'Trouble?'
'You know. Resentment that you're here and Zak's doing so well.'
'Oh, that kind of trouble. Nothing we haven't been able to handle. Why?'
'Just thinking that maybe as well as the money thing, somebody could have something personal against Zak.'
'And want to humiliate her by making her lose in front of her home crowd? Now that's a bit fanciful, wouldn't you say? I mean, I brought my kids up to know that in this life, nobody wins all the time. So long as you're doing your best, that's all that matters. Who cares about a bit of embarrassment?'
'Yes, but she wouldn't be doing her best, would she?' said Joe.
'She'd be doing her best for her family, and you can't do better than that,' said Mrs. Oto fiercely.
'No,' said Joe thoughtfully. 'Don't suppose you can. I'll be on my way now, Mrs. Oto.'
'Don't you want to know what I'm going to do now I know what's going on?' she asked.
'Sure I'd like to know,' said Joe. 'But first, I doubt if you'll know till you've talked to your husband and to Zak. And second, no way you're going to tell me unless you want to. So why waste my breath asking? I'm just the hired help.'
She laughed and said, 'Maybe Zak didn't choose so badly after all, Mr. Sixsmith. Don't forget your coat now.'
Back in the Magic Mini, Joe sat for a while looking out at the house. He glimpsed Eddie's face momentarily at an upstairs window. No need for the boy to come bursting into the kitchen like that. He must have known his mother would ask questions about the print-out. Also that when she looked at it, she'd know what it was about. So he'd done it deliberately. Why? Because he wanted her to find out what was going on without doing any direct sneaking? Or maybe he wanted to find out more for himself, so he set up a situation where his mother would get it out of Joe while he listened at the door? Could he be that devious? Why not? The thought processes of the young made politicians look straightforward!
And as for Mrs. Oto ... 'That woman's seriously worried, Whitey,' said Joe.
You were looking after my daughter, I'd be seriously worried, yawned the cat.
'Yeah, yeah,' said Joe.
He drove slowly away along the quiet suburban street. No getting away from it, this was peaceful living. And they wanted to keep it that way. He'd spotted a couple of Neighbourhood Watch signs. Ten to one somebody had already clocked him and was ringing in about the suspicious-looking lowlife cruising the area in his way-out car. He must have taken a wrong turn because instead of the main road back into the town centre, he found himself on the rural edge of Grandison where the developers were still biting into the green belt, though from the look of it they'd bitten off more than they could chew. Here was a sign advertising yet another small exclusive executive estate. Only the small exclusive executives must be getting thin on the ground as half the houses were unfinished with precious little activity around them to indicate the builders were in any hurry to complete the job. Their design was very like that of the Oto house, and when Joe spotted a Sales Office sign, he pulled over.
A middle-aged man with pouchy cheeks and a drooping moustache sat behind a desk reading a tabloid. His gaze registered Joe and rated him as unlikely to be doing more than enquiring where he should make a builder's delivery. But with times in the trade so hard, he couldn't afford to take chances, so he dropped the paper, switched on the smile and said heartily, 'Good morning, sir. Can I help you?'
'Hope so,' said Joe. Thinking of moving so thought maybe I'd pick up some literature, check out a few prices.'
'Well, you're in luck there, sir. We happen to be offering special deals on the few remaining properties, just for a limited period, you understand. Substantial cuts, five thousand off the four-bed Montrose, three and a half off the three-bed Elgin. Plus a very advantageous mortgage arrangement with the Luton and Biggleswade, subject to status, of course.'
Things that bad, are they?' said Joe sympathetically. 'Nice-looking houses too. They remind me of the one a friend of mine bought a few years back. Sycamore Lane.'
'Sycamore Lane? Yes, they were ours. Back in eighty-seven to eight-eight. Those were the days, people buying them as fast as we could build them.'
His eyes were moist with nostalgia.
'Well, Henry Oto was well satisfied,' said Joe.
'Mr. Oto? Your friend's Mr. Oto? It was me who sold him the place. Didn't know then of course I was dealing with a celebrity family. That girl of his is a real credit to the town, ain't she?'
'She certainly is,' said Joe. 'But I expect prices have shot up since then, eh?'
'Now that's where you're wrong, Mr. er ... ?'
'Chivers,' said Joe.
'Mr. Chivers. The bottom fell out of the market not long after we sold Sycamore Lane. Prices took a tumble. Well, we're well over that now, of course. Everything's on the up and up now with recent developments. Another boom on the way by the look of things, so now's your time to buy. But the thing is because we had those few bad years, and because we've got this special offer on, in fact you'd be paying very little different from what your friend Mr. Oto paid all those years ago. Here's a price list. I'll just get the key to the show house and give you the conducted tour.'
'No time today,' said Joe quickly. 'I'll just take the literature and call back when I've had a chance to study it.' He grabbed a handful of brochures at random and headed out. He didn't look back. Life was full enough of disappointment without feeling guilty about other people's.
As he drove away, his abacus mind worked out figures. When they moved Zak would have been coming up to secondary-school age but Mary would already have passed it. Which meant she must have started at Hermsprong Comp. which its critics described as Alcatraz with permanent home leave.
