Eva had once more given him a dozen sensible suggestions why the two of them should set up house together, and he had given her his usual evasive answer. The idea appalled him. When his wife had been alive, she wasn’t a very warm companion, but it had taken him quite a while to get used to being alone. Now he had achieved a more or less satisfactory solitary life, making decisions that affected him only. His work occupied most of his time, and he had taken up golf which, although he was a late comer to the game, worked its addictive magic on him. He played most weekends, and told himself he was improving.
Now he dialled Lois’s number and waited. He saw that her message was timed at three thirty yesterday, and swore. He hoped it was not too late, knowing that she would never call him unless it was something important.
“You took your time,” Lois said, without introductory pleasantries.
He explained that he had been away on a mercy errand, and had just arrived back in his office. “How can I help you, Lois?” he said. Apart from inviting you to rush down here straight into my waiting arms, he added to himself.
“More like me helping you. It’s a vital piece of information. I don’t want questions, Cowgill. Just listen to this: an appendix scar from childhood, but still clear to see.”
“Got it,” he said firmly.
“I don’t suppose you’re any further forwards on the identity of the body in the canal?”
“No time to check yet,” he said. “But I’ll be in touch immediately I know more.”
He was about to thank her warmly, when she snapped, “Do that,” and rang off.
She turned off her computer, tidied her desk, and went through to the kitchen to tell Gran she was off to the shop. She knew Josie had been babysitting for Paula, and wanted to check that all had gone well. Gran had come home last evening from WI full of the dog-handler policeman. “He’d got this video, Lois,” she had said. “Great bits of film chases with the dog catching the villain. Better than the telly! Specially the one with the vagrant. The dog made a great rip in his trousers when he tried to run away! Still, the trousers was in rags anyway, and it served him right.”
Lois had lost her temper then, and had called her mother a narrow-minded old bag and other names, and the two of them had yelled at each other with Derek vainly trying to keep the peace. Now they were scarcely speaking, both being reluctant to back down.
“Going down the shop,” Lois said. “Anything we need?”
“No,” said Gran. “I’m well organised.”
Lois was just leaving the house when the phone rang again. It was Mrs. Tollervey-Jones, and Lois’s heart sank. It was going to be that kind of day. It couldn’t be Paula again, because it was Floss’s day at the hall.
“Mrs. Meade? Bit of a drama here. Your Floss has fallen off a stepladder. Turning out the kitchen cupboards, as arranged. Yes, she’s hurt her ankle. Says she can’t drive home. Be here within the next half hour, please. I have to go to a meeting in Tresham. Goodbye.”
THE ACCIDENT & EMERGENCY UNIT AT TRESHAM HOSPITAL WAS crowded. It was always crowded, and as Lois looked around for a seat for Floss, she realised they were in for a long wait. There were no spare seats, but a man got up and offered his to hobbling Floss. He was holding a hand over one eye, and nodded to them. “Nothing much wrong with me,” he said. “Just a wretched mote in my eye.”
“Thanks. But what did you say?” asked Floss, sinking gratefully into his chair. She winced as she caught her foot in the chair leg, and Lois patted her on the shoulder.
“It’s in the Bible,” she said, noticing the man’s dog collar. “Don’t worry, Floss. Think of beautiful things.”
“Like what?” said Floss.
“Hot coffee and chocolate cake,” Lois answered, and the reverend said no sooner said than done.
“Though chocolate cake is not a comforter mentioned in the Bible, so far as I am aware,” he said bravely, and set off towards the refreshment counter. There was a queue, and Lois saw that he couldn’t possibly carry a full tray with one hand. She told Floss to stay put, and followed him.
Floss tried hard to ignore the pain shooting up her leg, and looked around the room. There were two lads joshing each other, apparently fit and well, an old lady sobbing quietly into her handkerchief, a small, pale child held tight in her mother’s arms. And a tramp, bowed over in his chair, one hand held out, slowly dripping blood into a small puddle on the floor.
“Nurse!” said Floss, as a harassed girl passed by.
She stopped and looked at Floss. “We’ll get to you sooner or later,” she said.
“No, not me,” Floss replied quickly before the nurse could move on. “It’s that man over there.” She pointed to the tramp. “He needs help.”
“Everybody here needs help,” the nurse snapped. “He’ll wait his turn. He’s a regular, that one.”
“You could at least mop up the blood,” Floss said crossly. “And give him some tissues. You got tissues in this hospital?”
The nurse didn’t reply, but walked over to the tramp, said something, and disappeared.
“Here we are then,” said the reverend, appearing with Lois, who carried a tray of mugs and chocolate muffins. “This should put new heart into us.”
“Sorry about that Bible thing,” Floss said. “New one on me. ‘Mote,’ did you say? Must be very painful. Do you want a turn at sitting down?” The reverend protested that he was really a fraud and her need was greater than his.
As Floss took her coffee from Lois, she balanced it with the muffin and looked up to thank her, but Lois was staring across the room at the tramp. Floss was about to tell her about her conversation with the nurse, when Lois began to walk towards him. At that moment, a different nurse appeared and took the tramp by the arm. He struggled to his feet, and they vanished into the depths of the hospital.
JACK JR., LURKING OUT OF SIGHT OF THE BUS SHELTER, HAD SEEN Lois drive her van off towards the hall and shrugged in a resigned way far beyond his years. He’d missed the bus again, deliberately this time. He dreaded that he would be met at the other end with more appeals to take sweets, gum, cigarettes, other stuff. He hoped to get a lift and by not arriving on the bus he would be able to slip into school without being noticed.
Now, nearly into Tresham, dawdling along with his head down, he heard a vehicle coming. No good. It was going the wrong way, and he recognized the New Brooms van. He ducked into a gateway and hid behind the hedge, but too late. The van stopped and he heard Mrs. Meade’s voice calling his name. He didn’t move, hoping she would go away.
“Ah, there you are.” She was standing by the open gate, staring at him. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Walkin’ to school,” he grunted. “None o’ your business.”
“Don’t you speak to me like that!” Lois said, advancing on him. She took him by the arm and marched him to the van. Thrusting him into the backseat, she climbed in and began to reverse into the gateway.
“What’re you doing, Mrs. M?” Floss said. “He lives in Farnden, opposite the shop.”
“I know that,” Lois said. “And he knows I know that.” She maneuvered the van, put on the brake and turned off the engine. “Now,” she said, “first you apologise, then you tell us exactly why you’re causing your mother so much worry and trouble.”
Silence from the backseat. Then, to Floss’s horror, she heard a very loud, rasping fart. To her amazement, Lois burst out laughing. “Good God, boy,” she said, “you don’t think that’s goin’ to shock me, do you? I ain’t brought up two good lads for nothing!” She turned round in her seat and looked at the sullen face. “How old are you, Jack?” she asked.