there’s no problems.”
“Oh, everywhere looks lovely!” enthused Mrs Betts. “There are certainly no problems as far as we are concerned. Only too grateful…there’s really no need for Mrs Meade to come again…”
“She always does,” said Sheila, collecting her jacket from the hall. “A very good employer, she is. Pity there’s not more around like her,” she added, smiling innocently. “I’ll say cheerio, then, and see you next week.” She walked swiftly out and round to the school gate, where she hugged the children and went off to have a cup of her daughter’s disgustingly weak tea.
¦
“Hello? Sheila? Lois here. Everything go all right?”
“Fine. Himself wasn’t there, o’ course. And Mrs Betts fluttered round like a daft old moth. Still, once I got goin’ she left me alone. Said she was pleased.”
“Was Prue there?” said Lois casually.
Sheila hesitated. “No, at school. But her mum said somethin’ funny. Said she’d promised her I wouldn’t go in her room. Keeps it locked. Wouldn’t’ve catched me letting our Jean lock her bedroom door! Funny, I call it.”
“Mmm,” said Lois. “Well, I’ll drop in and see her at the end of the week. Usual routine call. I don’t suppose you’ll run into Betts until the holidays, then we shall see. Thanks, anyway, Sheila. See you.” She put down the telephone and sat for several minutes staring at nothing, until Gran yelled from the kitchen that tea was ready.
? Terror on Tuesday ?
Twenty-Eight
“Last day wiring at the pub,” Derek said next morning as he kissed Lois goodbye. “Been a long job, but one more day will do it.”
“Tying up a few loose ends?” said Lois wittily.
“Good God, I hope not!” Derek replied. “Bit more technical than that, or I shall be in trouble,” he added, and then turned back from his van. “Just you be careful, my gel,” he said. “Keep your eye on the road and no thinkin’ about Dick Reading or the major or any o’ that.” He blew her another kiss, and was gone.
Lois went back into the house. She had given him an edited account of the smash on the Dalling road, chiefly to account for the need to check the insurance on Hazel’s car. Had he guessed there was more to it? Anyway, his words were timely. Eyes peeled for the Gorilla and his mate, Lois reminded herself. She had to drive to the wholesalers today to stack up on cleaning supplies, and meant to go round by Waltonby to drop in on the vicar. Just a periodic check, she’d told Bridie, but she had found the Reverend Rogers very pleasant and willing to talk, and with a bit of luck she could steer the conversation round to Mr Betts. She was sure the reverend would not divulge school secrets, but she just might pick up something useful. It was worth a try.
The vicar was in his garden, bent double over a flower bed, and Lois cleared her throat loudly as she approached. Deaf as a post, Hazel had said. He was not, but his hearing had definitely diminished and she did not want to startle the old bloke.
He straightened up with a welcoming smile. “Good morning!” he said. “I do hope you have not come to tell me Mrs Reading is indisposed? Or has another job? Or won the lottery?” He chuckled to himself, and added, “Come along in, my dear. Nice to see you again, and I’m so glad you’ve come to interrupt me. We can have a cup of tea and a chat.”
“No, nothing wrong with Bridie,” said Lois reassuringly. “She is very happy working here. No, it is just that I call in on all our clients every so often, just to check that there’s no problems.”
He confirmed that there were none, and began to talk about his garden. “It’s much too big for me, of course,” he said. “But you cannot get help these days, even though so many are out of work. I do get one of the bigger boys from the school to sweep up leaves in the autumn, and sometimes they’ll cut the grass. Anything to do with machinery! But as for weeding…well, that is too much like-hard work, I suspect.”
Keep him on the school, Lois! She poured him another cup of tea from the lovely china teapot that had seen better days, and said quickly, “That’s very thoughtful of Mr Betts to send boys round to help.”
The vicar nodded. “I suppose it is,” he said, “but to tell you the truth, my dear, I think it more likely that Mrs Betts is the one to think of these things. The headmaster has so much on his hands, always dashing hither and thither…not an easy man…” He stopped speaking and seemed to fall into a reverie.
Lois began again. “Gets on well with the parents, does he? My kids went to a big Tresham school, and sometimes the teachers and parents came to blows…specially on the Churchill, where we lived.”
He looked up at her suddenly. “Blows?” he said. “Mr Betts? Have you heard something, Mrs Meade?”
He had clearly not heard her properly, but she pressed ahead. “You can’t always believe what you hear,” she said cheerfully, “though my mum always says there’s no smoke without fire!”
“I do hope not, though…” And once more he tailed off without ending the sentence. She was sure he was well aware of the rumours, and far from being the batty old duffer that Hazel had described, had a cunning look in his eye. “Well,” she said lightly, “Mrs Stratford is cleaning for Mrs Betts now, so maybe she will be able to lighten the load a bit. I’ve heard Mrs Whatsit was not quite up to it, being old, an’ that.”
“Poor woman!” said the vicar, suddenly getting to his feet and extending a hand to Lois. “Must go and visit her. And I expect you’ll be wanting to get on,” he added, shaking her hand firmly and moving her gently towards the door, just as he did after morning service when a parishioner talked too long at the church door.
¦
Lois loaded up her car at the wholesalers and started back along the dual carriageway that took her out of the wasteland of industrial Tresham, stopping off at a garage selling cheap petrol. As she came out of the garage shop, she glanced behind her and saw a police car, chequered yellow and blue, parked to one side of the forecourt. It was Keith Simpson, the local bobby from her own district, and a sort of friend. He had been helpful on several occasions in the past, chiefly when Josie had got involved with that Melvyn Hallhouse and run away from home, and Lois waved. He smiled, and got out of the car. Oh blast, thought Lois. She didn’t particularly want to be seen talking to a uniformed policeman just at this moment.
“Hi, Lois! How are you…and the family?”
“Fine,” she said. “Got to get going now, children home from school…”
“Thought you had Gran living in?” said Keith Simpson, still smiling.
“Blimey!” said Lois. “Word gets around fast. Anyway, must go – ”
“Just wanted to ask you something.” Constable Simpson had stopped smiling now, and seemed to grow a few inches taller. “I believe you have a Gary Needham working for you?”
Lois nodded. “So what?” she said.
“I need to have a word with him,” he said, “about a police matter. He’s a bit difficult to track down. Doesn’t come to the phone…ignores our requests to come down to the station…that kind of thing. Don’t want to come down too heavy…not a serious thing. Could you mention it to him, Lois?”
“Certainly not!” Lois’s face was an angry red. “You do your job, and I’ll do mine! Gary Needham is a perfectly good worker and I’ve no fault to find. If you want him, you get him. I must go now,” she added abruptly, and, getting into her car, drove off without looking back.
Keith Simpson frowned. What was eating Lois? She’d overreacted a bit, surely, considering it was only a matter of going through red lights. And he wanted to take a look at young Needham’s car, check that it had got a current MOT, etc. Ah well, Lois had been a tricky one in the past. Women. You never knew which way they would jump. He went back to his patrol car and forgot about the encounter as an emergency call came in.
Lois, on the other hand, did not forget. She wondered what Gary had done. He was a difficult one to sort out. Sometimes he seemed so straightforward, and then at others he was secretive and uncommunicative. The one consistent thing about Gary Needham was his politeness and good temper. Nothing ruffled him, and he took reprimand without argument. Perhaps she should not have been short with Keith Simpson, but tried to find out more. Still, it was a real cheek asking her to intervene. Her loyalty was to her staff, and that would remain a priority until she had some definite evidence that Gary was up to something.
She looked at her watch. Gran would be there in Long Farnden by now, so she decided to call in at the supermarket to get supplies. It was crowded with shoppers, and she had to wait a long time at the checkout. The children should be safely back, she thought, as she drove into Long Farnden. She was dying for a cup of tea. As she
