anything more interesting to look at?'
'No, definitely watching us. Or not us. Watching little Fee-lie. First time I noticed this woman was when I was sitting on a bench throwing crumbs into the water. Feelie was playing on the grass behind me and she must've taken a tumble, 'cos suddenly I heard her cry and when I turned, she was sitting on the ground with this woman stooping over her like she was going to pick her up and comfort her. Well, I know it's something that anyone might do, but I was taking no chances, you hear such things these days, and I got there quick, and grabbed her Feelie, I mean. The woman turned and walked away pretty smart and I thought, oh hell, I've probably offended her. But I would have spoken to her nice and polite if only she'd hung around.'
'But she did hang around. You say you've noticed her again.'
'Oh yes, many times. And at first I might have spoken. But she always took good care never to let me get close. If she was on a bench she'd get up as we approached and move away. But always within sight, her sight of us, I mean. And even if I couldn't see her, I got to feeling she was still watching.'
'You tell anyone else about this?' asked Joe. 'Like the police? Or your daughter?'
'No,' admitted Molly. 'I mean, what are the cops going to do but make me feel like a neurotic woman on the change? As for Dorrie, I don't want to start her worrying over what's probably nothing. But I think maybe I ought to say something to put her on her guard when she takes Feelie home.'
'She doesn't live with you then?' said Joe.
'No,' said the woman rather shortly. 'Likes her independence.' Then, relenting of her critical tone slightly, she added, 'Me too, if I'm honest. Though, God help us, neither of us is a very good advert for independence, me married three times, her up the stick at seventeen!'
'It would still get my vote,' said Joe, looking at her appreciatively and wondering what her husbands had died of. 'So what do you want from me?'
'I thought mebbe you could come down to the park one day, see what you think of this woman, follow her home mebbe and check her out. Turns out she's got a family of five and she comes to the park to get away from them, then it's me who's the loonie, right?'
'Right,' smiled Joe. 'Listen, don't sound to me like there's anything to worry about. If she had any notion of snatching little Feelie, she'd have come on nice to you, got your confidence. You gave her the chance, right?'
That I did. You're probably right, Joe. But I'd still appreciate it if you could take a look.'
'OK,' said Joe. 'Here's my number. Give me a ring next time you're taking her to the park and I'll see if I can get down there.'
'OK. Probably won't be till next week when we all get back to work. Thanks, Joe. You're a prince.'
No, thought Joe. I just know how it feels to be under the eye of a dangerous woman. He'd noticed Daph emerge from behind her counter to collect plates and now she was looking his way with an ill-boding frown.
'Gotta leave you now, Molly,' he said as the caff owner started heading towards him. 'Heavy schedule. See you!'
He scooped up Whitey and headed for the door.
Behind him Molly called, 'Hey, Joe, I didn't pay you for my choc and Danish.'
Joe paused and turned, not because of the money but because there was something else he wanted to ask her, or would want to if he could just hang around a little. When the Great Technician in the sky had doled out components, some folk got Pentium chips, some got transistors, and some had to make do with old-fashioned valves. They got you there in the end, but you had to wait a bit longer till the picture came up on the screen.
Joe was an unconvertible valve man, and today there was no time to wait for warm-up. Daph was almost on him and definitely not in one of her animal rights moods.
I'll put it on your bill,' he called to Molly. 'See you soon.'
He hit the pavement running, with Whitey on his shoulder hurling defiant abuse behind him.
'How many times do I have to tell you?' gasped Joe as he fell into the Magic Mini. 'You want a fight, you pick on someone your own size. Or slightly smaller!'
Fifteen.
Sycamore Lane was a bit down market from Beacon Heights but none the worse for that. Here there was space enough for private living but also proximity enough for community. Give a man too much ground and his boundaries become frontiers to be fought over instead of fences to talk over.
So, a good place to live, if this was the kind of life you wanted. Wouldn't do for me, thought Joe. He liked the sense of wraparound humanity the high-rise gave him. But chuck in a wife and family, and maybe he'd start thinking different... Fat chance! Way things looked, Whitey was the closest he was going to get in that direction. Sometimes he felt guilty about keeping the cat in a flat. Maybe that was a reason he should think in terms of a house and garden, a bit of space for Whitey to roam free in.
'What do you think?' he said aloud as he turned into the road where the Otos lived.
'Chase birds and all that crap instead of being driven around by my personal chauffeur? You must be mad!'
At least that's what Joe hoped the lash of the cat's tail meant.
He was glad to see Mary's Metro had vanished. He'd probably need another close encounter with the sister before he was through, but not yet. Also his ruse of leaving his donkey jacket behind was likely to get it thrown in his face if she'd answered the door. As it was, when Mrs. Oto heard his apologetic explanation, her expected reply was, 'Come on in, Mr. Sixsmith. You must be chittered without your topcoat. Will you warm up with a cup of tea?'
So far so good, he thought as he followed her into the kitchen. Now all he'd got to do was get her telling him the things he wanted to know without her knowing he wanted to know them.
Alternatively he could try the direct approach which consisted of looking straight into the other person's face
