Threats At Three Part 13

"Not at first," Hazel replied. "Not a great talker, our Jack Jr., but when I asked about his father, I certainly hit a raw spot. He was vitriolic about his father and hoped never to see him again. Then he said something really important, if it was true. He told me about a man at the school gates, peddling drugs. Apparently he's been pestering the lad, maybe because Jack had tried something once. Jack won't say anything because of getting his mother involved. He's probably regretting telling me by now."

"You'd better keep it to yourself, then," John said. "We don't want our family having any truck with that world."

"Hey, since when were you a nimby? And you a parish councillor, too. That Hickson woman has got enough to put up with, without her thirteen-year-old son being in that kind of trouble!"

John backtracked, saying he'd make some discreet enquiries.

"And also," said Hazel sternly, "I told Jack about the Youth Club and building a soap box, hoping it might give him something to do, somewhere to make friends. But he wasn't interested, not on the surface, anyway. It is just possible he might turn up tonight, so could you make an effort with him? I've got this horrible feeling something bad is going to happen if n.o.body does nothing to help him."

JOHN WAS PLEASED TO COUNT FULL ATTENDANCE AT THE YOUTH Club. The soap box idea had galvanised the usually indolent youths, and they were already in a huddle, discussing design and building plans. Apparently their tech teacher at school had got interested and was helping them.

"Right, girls," Floss was saying, "let's make sure we get in on this. Can't have the boys taking all the credit." As she herded the two groups together, she saw the door open and a face look round. Then the door shut again.

"Jack Hickson," she said quickly to John, and dashed for the door. Jack was disappearing up the lane, and she yelled, "Jack! Come here a minute! Can you spare a minute?" Then John was following her, and the pair of them caught up with Jack, who looked fixedly at the ground and said nothing.

"Come on, boy," John said. "We hoped you'd come. Another pair of hands needed, and I've heard you're a handy lad. Come on, let's go." John's man-to-man approach worked, and Floss was relieved to see the pair walk back to the village hall.

"When we packed up," she said to her husband, Ben, later that evening, "Jack Hickson looked a different chap. Head up, laughing at John's silly jokes. And he'd had some good suggestions for the vehicle, so John said."

"Let's hope it lasts," said Ben, from behind the evening paper. "These things can be a one day wonder. Especially with kids. Any coffee going? I've been waiting 'til you came home to put the kettle on."

THIRTY.

ARE YOU GOING TO BE LATE TONIGHT?" KATE ADSTONE SAID. She had been asked if she would like to join the WI, and although Gavin had laughed scornfully and said he thought young wives would be more in her line, she had said yes, she would go along and see if she wanted to become a member. It had been that pleasant woman, grandmother of nice Josie at the shop, who'd asked her. Mrs. Weedon, her name was, had offered to call for Kate and take her along to the village hall. "It's a special meeting," she had said. "We're entering a soap box, and hope to get most of the members involved. Some of us are a bit creaky, but there'll be jobs for everyone."

Now Gavin grabbed his doc.u.ment case, pecked Kate on the cheek, patted the top of Cecilia's silky head, and said that he'd make sure he was back by six thirty.

After he'd gone, Kate stacked the dishes and tidied up. It was Cecilia's first morning at the nursery on her own, and she wanted to get there a little early, so that she could stay and make sure she was settled. There had been a week when she had stayed with Cecilia for the whole morning, and now the idea of abandoning her was awful, She had been a.s.sured that it would be good for the child, and she would learn from the other children around her. Kate did not want her to learn some of the less charming ways of other children she had seen, but gave in, and now this important morning had arrived.

"Good morning, Kate! And here's our Cecilia come to stay with us for a little while. Shall we go and see what Sarah is doing in the playhouse?" She took Cecilia's hand, and the little girl toddled off obediently after the woman in charge. Kate stood watching them, wanting to burst into tears, grab her baby and run away forever. But she saw the woman motioning that she should leave and so she turned and made her way blindly out of the village hall and up the lane.

She occupied herself changing sheets and stuffing the was.h.i.+ng machine, and then sat down to glance at the newspaper. Her attention was caught by a story about abduction and rape, when there was a loud knock at the door. She rushed to open it, convinced that something had happened to Cecilia, and found Tim Froot standing there, smiling broadly at her.

"Are you all right, Kate?" he said. "You look a little distraught! Gavin been beating you up again?" He laughed heartily, and said he was just pa.s.sing and thought he would cadge a cup of coffee from her. He'd been meaning to have a chat about this and that for some time.

AT NURSERY, CECILIA HAD BEEN FINE FOR FIVE MINUTES, THEN looked around for her mother and realised she had gone. She was instantly heartbroken, and wept bitterly until Sarah, the young a.s.sistant, sat her on her lap and fed her teddy-bear biscuits. "Against the rules," Martha, the woman in charge, had said crossly, but Sarah knew that it was a tried-and-tested remedy for heartbreak, adopted by all the a.s.sistants at the nursery.

"Another thoroughly spoiled toddler," Martha said. "We shall soon lick her into shape." Sarah winked at the woman who came in to prepare the morning snack. They both knew that Martha was as soft as grease with the children, in spite of her p.r.i.c.kly exterior. The little ones seemed to know it, too, and always ran to Martha for comfort in times of distress.

"Mrs. Adstone seems a very pleasant mother," Sarah said. "Have you met the father?"

Martha shook her head. "I've seen him outside, waiting for Kate. Works in Tresham, I believe, at the same place as Mrs. Meade's son, Douglas. That's another one who should expand his family as soon as possible! They have a little boy called Harry, I think, and the apple of everyone's eye. Needs a little compet.i.tion! The trouble is, you know, Sarah, it is too easy to plan the family these days."

Uh-oh! Here we go again, thought Sarah.

"In some ways," said Martha, looking nostalgically out of the high windows in the village hall, "it was better when the only family planning method was abstinence! Then children came along one after the other, and you got it all over when mother and father were still young. And grandparents, too, were still young enough to be a huge help bringing up the grandchildren."

"Yeah, all ten of the little dears," said Sarah, smiling. "Not sure I agree, Martha. Still, you can't put the clock back. Most women wait for a bit, building up a career first."

Cecilia was struggling to get down from Sarah's lap and fixing her eyes on a small girl who was bathing a bedraggled doll; she toddled away to join in.

"NICE LITTLE PLACE YOU HAVE HERE, KATE," SAID TIM FROOT, settling his large frame into the best armchair. "How's Gavin liking his new job?"

Kate handed him his coffee, and perched on the edge of a chair opposite him. She was nervous. She had not liked him from the first time they met, which was when he interviewed her for a job in his company five years ago. She had not cared for the way his hot eyes looked at her, nor for the way he seemed to have a hold over Gavin, who worked in the same company. It was there she and Gavin had met, and subsequently became engaged.

The conversation limped along, and then he said, "Seems a long time ago that you fell for your Gavin. Why him, Kate, when you could have had the pick of my young executives?"

Mind your own business, thought Kate. But she didn't answer his question, and changed the subject. "I don't want to hurry you, Mr. Froot, but I have to pick up Cecilia from the nursery group."

"Not Mr. Froot, please! Surely we know one another well enough for you to call me Tim?" He looked at his watch. "And I'm sure Cecilia will be there until lunchtime? I'd love to see round your little love nest, my dear."

Kate felt panic rising, and stood up. "Oh, it's all too much of a mess for the escorted tour," she said, making a desperate effort to lighten the atmosphere. She edged towards the door, but he took hold of her arm. "Let me go!" she said, trying to shake him off.

"Oh, come on, Kate," he said. "I'm sure Gavin would want you to be nice to me. He's probably not told you, but he owes me a favour. I always collect," he added, and bent down towards her.

"Get away from me!" she yelled, and managed to pull herself free. She dashed for the door and ran out in the garden, down the path and along the road, where she almost crashed into Tony Dibson, who was pus.h.i.+ng his wife along in her wheelchair.

"Hey, hey! Look where you're going, young lady!" said Tony. Then he realised who it was. "Are you all right?" he added, and put out his hand, as if to support Kate, who looked decidedly shaky.

"Just wasn't thinking," she gasped. "So sorry. I'll just catch my breath. I'm really sorry, Mrs. Dibson." She looked fearfully behind her, and saw the big car slowly move away and disappear round the corner.

"Who was that?" said Tony. He had no qualms about airing his village curiosity.

"Oh, just a friend of Gavin," Kate said.

"Did he upset you?" Irene asked, leaning forwards and taking Kate's hand. "Would you like to come back with us for a cup of tea? We'll wait while you lock up. Go on, love. We like a bit of company, don't we, Tony?"

Kate was about to refuse politely, but began to feel dizzy again, and said that she would really like that, if they could spare the time. Tony laughed. "That's the one thing we got plenty of," he said.

AS THE CAR CRUISED SLOWLY ALONG, PURRING LIKE A SATISFIED cat, its driver was far from satisfied. Tim Froot did not like being thwarted. He was not used to it, and now he plotted his revenge. Up to now, he had handled Gavin very gently, he considered. He had allowed his former employee to think that this village hall scheme was very small beer to him. But he had bigger plans for Long Farnden. He had achieved a similar project in a number of other villages, and by using a careful building strategy he had made a financial killing without the hicks on their parish councils realising it. " *Softly, softly, catchee monkee,' " he repeated his mantra to himself now. But not so softly as before, Gavin, my lad. Time to put on the squeeze.

THIRTY-ONE.

AS GRAN WALKED UP THE LITTLE PATH TO THE ADSTONES' front door, she heard raised voices, mostly a man's voice. She stopped, wondering whether she should perhaps come back a few minutes later. But then the shouting stopped and the front door opened.

"Hi, Mrs. Weedon! Come in for a second. I'm nearly ready."

Gran thought Kate looked flushed, but she was smiling and looked calm enough. "Don't worry, dear," she said. "I'll wait in the garden. You've got some lovely smelly nicotiana over there." Gavin appeared, and said what on earth was nicotiana? Not a member of the marijuana family, he hoped.

"No, no. We always call it the tobacco plant," Gran said. "Go on, have a sniff."

"I'll take your word for it," he said, beckoning her in. "Just come in and say h.e.l.lo to Cecilia. She's all ready for bed and smells of baby powder. I must say I prefer it to anything called nicotiana!"

He seems jolly, Gran thought. Perhaps it was just a moment's spat. But when she took Cecilia in her arms to give her a cuddle, she could see traces of tears on the toddler's cheeks. Had her parents' shouting match made her cry?

"Right, off we go then, Mrs. Weedon," Kate said, and then reminded Gavin to make sure Cecilia had her favourite brown doggie in her cot. "Night-night precious," she added, giving Cecilia a kiss.

The two walked off towards the village hall, and Gran chose her moment. As they pa.s.sed the Dibson cottage, she said she hoped Irene would be at WI. "Her Tony usually pushes her down early to get her settled," she said. "I saw them this afternoon, going for a stroll down to the shop. They said they'd seen you this morning. I did wonder if you'd make it this evening. They said you'd been a bit dizzy and upset. Nasty turn, was it, dear?" Gran had pretty well decided the girl must be pregnant again, but would not ask outright. There were other ways of finding out.

"Oh, I'm fine," said Kate. "It was just that, well, you know. It was just . . ." Her voice trailed off and Gran glanced across at her. Oh dear, the girl was nearly in tears. Not pregnant, then, unless they hadn't planned it. But no, it must be something else.

"Had a disagreement, you two?" she said, and smiled. "It happens in the best of marriages, you know."

Kate shook her head. "No, it wasn't Gavin. I had an unpleasant caller. That's all. He scared me a bit, and when I told Gavin he was pretty angry."

"You should call the police," Gran said firmly. "Was he trying to sell you something?" They were nearly at the door of the village hall now, and Kate blew her nose and shook her head. "No. I knew him, but hadn't seen him for some time," she said. "It was nothing, Mrs. Weedon. All over now. Come on, we might miss the floor show!"

Gran laughed delightedly, but did not forget what had happened. Something to report to Lois, she thought. Strange men calling on vulnerable young women, petty thieving from people's sheds. What was going on? Sooner it was sorted out the better.

"Good evening, ladies," said Mrs. T-J. "Now, first of all, welcome to Kate Adstone, who's come to take a look at us. This is an extra meeting, of course, to discuss in detail our entry for the soap box grand prix, and Lois Meade is here, too, to direct operations. And for once, we have a man in our midst! Douglas Meade here has kindly agreed to help us, and we've established that this is within the rules. Well, what we have really established is that there are no rules, except that the soap boxes have to have brakes! So shall we get straight down to business?"

"Hi, everybody," said Douglas, standing up and looking a little nervously at the a.s.sembled group. "Mum says, that is Lois Meade, as most of you know, she says that you have decided on your soap box being a jar of jam! I like it, but we'll have to do quite a bit of design work. I have given it some thought, and reckon we could take a large barrel as our base. I thought if I did most of the construction, then you talented lot could decorate it, make it look like a jar of jam. By the way, will it be strawberry or raspberry?"

"Does it make a difference?" asked Lois, with a grin. They all laughed. Most of them could remember him as a sandy-haired schoolboy, and a nice one at that.

"Of course," said a straight-faced Douglas. "So where shall we find a barrel? Any ideas?"

"I think I can help there," said Mrs. T-J. "My people are in brewing, and I'm sure my cousin would be delighted to let us have a barrel. We shall probably have to clean it out, of course, but shall I go ahead with that?"

Blimey, the old thing is a mover and shaker. "Thank you, that would be a great start," he said, and then suggested they all move into a circle round the big table so that he could show them some preliminary drawings he had made.

Lois was proud of him. He had a gift for bringing out the best in people, either adopting their suggestions or tactfully sidelining them for the moment. Sheila Stratford said she was sure Sam would be able to find some good wheels on the farm. Although he was now retired, he still spent a lot of time there, helping out. Their long patch of trouble and involvement with the police had come to an end, and Sheila was anxious to rehabilitate Sam into village life.

By half past eight, Mrs. Tollervey-Jones announced that they had made really good progress and it was time to wind up the meeting. "We must meet again, weekly, if that is acceptable," she said. "Not much time, and I shall need some practise if you all insist that I drive a jar of jam! I must confess," she added modestly, "that I discovered one of my grandchildren has a similar vehicle, and I had a couple of practise sessions. Reasonably successfully, too. Quite an exhilarating experience, you know," she said confidingly.

The stunned WI members got to their feet, and Mrs. T-J said she would see them all next Monday evening. "Same time, same place," she said, and went out humming what could have been "Jerusalem" if she had not been totally tone deaf.

GAVIN, WATCHING TELEVISION WITH THE SOUND TURNED DOWN low so as not to wake Cecilia, looked at his watch. Kate should be home soon. He had had an uncomfortable evening, regretting some of the things he had said to her, but mostly worrying about Tim Froot. He had devoutly wished over and over again that he had never allowed himself to become involved with the man. He was not a man, he was a monster, so friendly and helpful at first, convincing Gavin that the investment he was recommending was all legal and aboveboard. He even offered, and persuaded Gavin to accept, a considerable loan to make the investment worthwhile. And now he was calling in the debt, so that there was not just a risk of exposure of fraud, but also a horrible threat of blackmail involving poor Kate.

The thought of the monster with his hands on his beloved wife sent blood rus.h.i.+ng to his head and he stood up, his fists clenched. As he heard her footsteps along the garden path he rushed out and hugged her tightly until she gasped for breath.

"I'm so sorry," he kept repeating, and she took his arm and led him into the house, putting her finger to her lips and reminding him that Cecilia was a very light sleeper.

"Now," she said, when they were sitting side by side on the sofa, "what exactly are you so sorry about? Not just a mild quarrel with me, surely? After all, I had every reason to send that Froot man packing. He won't try anything again."

Gavin was quiet for a minute, and then ran his hands through his hair and groaned. "It's a long story," he said, adding to himself that he could not possibly tell her all at the moment. Perhaps an edited version would explain his anger and caution her to be very careful with Tim Froot in the future. So he said that when he left Froot's company, he had had to break a contract in order to take up the new job, which offered really good prospects. Froot had been tough, he said, and made a deal with Gavin involving a loan, which he now wanted repaid.

"But can't we pay him in installments?" Kate said. "I can get a part-time job now Cecilia's at nursery. And I can work at home, too. Lots of people do now, using computers. It's a different world out there!"

Gavin nodded. "That'll help," he said. "Don't worry, love. We'll crack it together."

Later on, aware that Gavin was not asleep, Kate said, "You haven't told me everything, have you, Gav? You haven't said why Froot is always cruising round this village, down to the village hall and around the streets. Not because of my irresistible charms, I'm sure of that."

There was a long silence, and then an unconvincing snore. Kate sighed and turned over to face the wall. She had enjoyed the WI meeting, but it all seemed very unimportant now. It was a long time before she finally fell asleep.

THIRTY-TWO.

SO I SAID TO HER," GRAN INSISTED, "THAT SHE MUST REPORT him to the police. Mind you, I don't think she will. She said she knew him, so I expect it's more complicated than it looks."

Lois frowned. "It was a bit extreme, wasn't it, suggesting the police? After all, if they knew the man, a stern warning from Gavin should do the trick. Anyway, you did right to comfort the poor woman. But it doesn't sound like it was the same man as the mystery food thief, or Jack Hickson's missing father." Or the man who's persecuting him outside the school gates, she decided. Her mother had taken the whole thing a bit too seriously, she thought privately. Probably just a marital tiff, and Mum walked straight into it.

"Could be an old boyfriend stirring up trouble. But thanks for telling me, anyway," she said. "Nothing like a boost from Gran Weedon! Kate seemed quite restored at the meeting. Now, I must get on," she added, returning to her computer screen. "Floss is coming to see me later on, and yesterday's team meeting threw up a few problems. Thanks for a nice breakfast," she added tactfully, hoping she had not been too hard on her mother.

The telephone rang, and Gran lingered. Lois smiled at her and waved a farewell hand. Gran left the room in a huff. After all, she said to herself, Lois is not the only one with a nose for trouble.

"Hi, Inspector," Lois said. "Busy morning. I'm pushed for time here, so what's up?"

"Good morning, Lois," he said, and his tone was brisk. "Chris and I are on our way over to Farnden to investigate another theft, this time from you-know-who up at the hall. You could say we'd been summoned. I wondered if you'd be around for a quick chat? Chris will be with me, of course."

"I don't need a chaperone," Lois said lightly. "Still, she seems nice enough, and yes, I'll be here. But Floss is coming to see me at twelve thirty, so you'll have to make it snappy."

In ten minutes they were there, knocking at the front door and being admitted by a curious Gran. "Good morning, Inspector," she said. "And you, Miss . . . ?"

"Chris," said the policewoman. "I'm Inspector Cowgill's a.s.sistant. You must be Mrs. Meade's mother?"

"Yes, I am," said Gran. "I am her housekeeper, and we-"

"Thanks, Mum!" said Lois, emerging from her office. "Come in, you two. Perhaps my housekeeper would bring us some coffee?"

Cowgill smothered a smile, and Gran stomped off to the kitchen.

"Now," said Lois, "how can I help?"

Cowgill reflected that Lois was much more polite and friendly when he had Chris with him, and realised he preferred her as she was when he was on his own. Her abrupt accusations and downright rudeness seemed to him to be the real Lois, the Lois he loved. He knew from many perilous situations they had been in together that she was feisty, brave and impatient, not this mild person facing him now. Unless it was really necessary, he decided, he would not bring Chris with him in the future. In any case, for all he knew, Lois would not be so forthcoming with a third person present.

He was right. Lois held back when they asked if she had any idea who the thief might be, and had nothing to say on the more serious matter of the drug dealer at the school gates. It seemed that one or two parents at Jack's school had seen the man hanging about, and were worried for their own children. They had reported this to the police, and Cowgill asked if Lois had heard anything from parents in Farnden. She was cagey. Hazel had been in touch with her earlier this morning, filling her in on what happened when she gave Jack a lift, and Lois had promised to ask Paula what she knew. It was, after all, a matter for Paula to deal with, and Lois intended to back her up and support her all she could. But it would be better if she, and not the police, could get to her first.

"It happens every so often in most schools," she said now. "I remember when Josie was a teenager and dabbled briefly with substances, as they call them. It wasn't nice at the time, but it was a phase that pa.s.sed. You should ask some of the kids, the bigger ones. They probably won't tell you, Inspector, but Chris might have more luck, especially if she's not in uniform."

"And the thefts? Any connection, do you think, Lois?" Cowgill said with a sigh. He knew his Lois, and could see they were getting nothing of interest from her this morning.