“Quiet!” snapped Pettison. He was enjoying himself. He had no intention of hurting his nephew, of whom he was actually very fond. But subordinates must be corrected, made to understand who was in charge.
“Into my office,” he ordered. “Now, while I pour myself a whiskey, you can tell me exactly why you asked a supplier, previously known only to myself, for details of animal people to be delivered direct to you.”
“I wouldn’t mind a shot of whiskey myself,” Justin said mildly, smiling sweetly.
“Oh, very well. You really have been a naughty boy, though. What was it all about? Do you want me to up your percentage? We could discuss it.”
“Fine. Now, I have no wish to take business from you, Uncle Robert. You are a very private operator, you know, and I would like to play a bigger part in your operation. I could be a lot more use to you, if you would let me.” That should do it, he thought. I shall keep him stalled until I am ready to fly the coop.
Pettison stared at him, as if trying to read his mind. “Is that the truth? If so, I am sure we can come to some new arrangement, Justin. Shall we have another drink and discuss this further?”
*
“What are you doing this afternoon, love?” Derek finished his plum tart, and asked for a second helping. Gran smiled at him, and cut a generous slice, topped off with a dollop of whipped cream.
“Mum!” said Lois. “Talk about cholesterol! Derek will be a walking tub of lard!”
“Rubbish,” said Derek. “I shall work it all off this afternoon. Big job over at Fletching, clambering about in a loft. So what are you doing, Lois? Taking Josie to buy some new clothes? I’d like to cheer her up a bit. You can give the bill to me.”
“Hadn’t thought,” Lois said. “I’d quite like to go over to Farnden Hall. They’ve opened a new designer-clothes shop in converted stables. Could you do a couple of hours in the shop, Mum? Give Josie a break?”
“Of course I can,” Gran said. “It’d be nice to see you with your daughter for a change, instead of tearing about with policemen an’ that.”
“Your grandson-in-law is a policeman, don’t forget,” Lois said. “And I don’t tear about. But thanks; I’ll give her a ring right away.”
Farnden Hall, formerly the home of Mrs Tollervey-Jones, was a pleasant, stately home, set in parkland studded with mature chestnut trees, which in spring were ravishing with pink and white blossom candles swaying in the breeze. Josie, in common with other youngsters in the village, had played hide-and-seek there in the spinney at the back of the house, and collected conkers from the chestnut trees in the autumn. They had become adept at avoiding the lady of the manor. Now, as she sat beside her mother in the New Brooms van, she grinned. “A proper visitor, me!” she said. “Not chased out by you know who!”
They found the shop and went in. “Melanie’s” was a scented boudoir, with rows of beautiful clothes at astronomical prices, and Lois’s heart sank. They couldn’t possibly afford them. But Josie had a bargain-hunter’s nose, and moved to a rail of last season’s models.
“Look, Mum, this would be lovely for the summer.” She held up a chiffon dress in pastel shades.
“Perfect for you, Josie,” said Melanie, who was a regular customer of the post office in the village shop, and so knew the Meade family well.
“But your father wanted you to have something warm for now,” Lois objected.
“Then this will be ideal,” said Melanie triumphantly, holding up a scarlet jacket with a white fluffy collar. “Only really lovely girls can wear this!” she said.
“No need to go over the top, Melanie,” said Lois. They were friends from way back, and New Brooms cleaned regularly at the hall and in the developing businesses attached. “But she does look wonderful in it! Will that do, Josie?”
“But look at the price, Mum!”
“No matter. We’ll take it, please, Melanie,” Lois said.
The door opened, and Lois noticed a change of expression in the shop owner’s face.
“Good afternoon. Can I help you?” she said coolly. “I’ll be with you in a short while; meanwhile, perhaps you’d like to look around.”
The scarlet jacket was now wrapped, and Lois looked at Melanie with eyebrows raised questioningly.
“Old bag!” Melanie mouthed in return. She turned to the new customer. “Now, Mrs Brierley, what are we looking for this afternoon?” she said.
*
“So what was all that about?” Josie said, as they returned to the van. “And thanks, Mum, and Dad, for this lovely jacket! I shall wear it every day until the summer.”