women to tot up the cost of her clothes.
Alacrity called. “Tinker. Find Steve Yelbard. You know, the glassie. And Phoebe. Donk should know, if anybody.”
“Dunno, Lovejoy.” I slipped him a couple of notes, so he could keep supping ale, his only source of calories. “The Portland Vase final? That Phoebe’s a snotty cow. That bugger Yelbard’s worse —he’s honest.” He spoke with the gloom of the antiques barker, to whom honesty’s the ultimate cheat.
“Get on with it.” I made for the door, preparing a smile of welcome for Almira.
“Ere, Lovejoy!” Tinker was rolling in the aisles. One of his jokes loomed. Wearily I waited in the doorway for the hilarity. “I’ll bet you give her a better ride than her nags!”
And he literally fell off his stool. I eyed him gravely as he recovered, cackling helplessly, blotting his eyes as he climbed back up. A couple of blokes down the bar looked at each other uncomprehendingly.
“Very droll, Tinker,” I said sombrely, and left to the tender mercy of Almira.
She was there, glowering on the pavement. I started with surprise and rushed to embrace her with thankful exclamations.
“Doowerlink!” I cried, giving her a buss. “You’re there! Where did you get to? I left the note saying definitely ten-fifteen at the war memorial! I was absolutely frantic —”
It’s the one way to cast doubt into a woman’s mind, hint that she’s mislaid some vital message.
“Ten-fifteen?” she asked, mistrustful.
“Yes, love!” I was so impatient. “We’ve missed our chance, doorlung! The holiday I was planning!” I sighed. “The last places on the flight went at twenty-to. Oh, hell!” I took her hands, gazed sorrowfully at her. She looked about guiltily, tried to recover her fingers from my vice-like grip.
“Not here, Lovejoy.” She was trying to look casual for appearance’s sake.
“They couldn’t hold the seats. It was a charter flight.”
She was looking hard, seeing pure truth shining nobly from my eyes.
“You’ve been planning a holiday, Lovejoy? For us?”
I went all soulful. “It’s little enough, Almira. I mean, you take me out to lovely meals. And that weekend on the coast.” I looked away, biting my lip. “This was all I could afford.”
“Oh, Lovejoy.” She started to look guilty. I was pleased, making headway. “I’m so sorry. Was it very dear? Only—”
“No, love.” I went proud.
“A lovely idea!” she said mistily. “Where did you leave it?”
“Eh?” People were pushing past on the pavement. I kept having to move aside for prams and pushchairs.
“The note.”
“Oh, by the window. Propped up, where…” Where it could easily blow away, so ending the lies necessary on the subject.
She drove me to my cottage. Where my ancient Austin Ruby waited, glamorously restored and out of hock. I was overjoyed. Suddenly frightened, too, for who could afford to settle an expert car restorer’s six-month bill? Overjoyed, yes, but aware of how deeply I now was in Troude’s scam. And its enormity.
“Is this old car yours, Lovejoy? I didn’t know you had one.”
“Neither did I, love.” I said weakly. We went inside and made smiles. I couldn’t help thinking of Baff Bavington.
CHAPTER SIX
« ^ »
Women talk in the pluperfect vindictive, as the old crack has it. All the same, there’s not much wrong with malice—as long as the arrow falls short if it’s aimed at me. Why it’s such a constant for birds, heaven alone knows. They relish the stuff.
“Who gave you that car, Lovejoy?” Women never let go, but I’ve already told you that.
“Eh? Oh, had it years, love.”
She padded about the room shivering, moaning about draughts. Finally zoomed back, freezing, complained I’d pinched her warm bit and trying to manoeuvre me out of it.
“Whose bed is it?” I demanded. Frigging nerve.
“I’ve never seen your motor before.” All suspicion.
“The Ruby? It got cindered. Thought I’d seen the last of it.”
“Restored by loving hands, I see.” Rich women see a lot. “Who paid? Another woman? Seeing your electricity’s off, and the phone.” She lifted her head from the pillow. “And seeing you were going to take me on holiday, Lovejoy.”
See what I mean, about women never trusting people? She’d be on about this for months. Luckily we’d not last that long.
