“They want you to do something in the shed,” she said. “They wouldn’t tell me what it was, but they were both excited. By the way, young Justin’s gone off to Lincolnshire. His dad’s died, and he’ll be away for a couple of weeks. Now, do you want to hear the latest tidbit of gossip? Dot Nimmo phoned, and we had a chat. You know that Pettison at the zoo? Him that’s the boss, and lives by himself up in the big house? Well, when Dot went in first thing—she goes in to clean most days—she found him at the bottom of the stairs, surrounded by a broken whiskey glass and, to all intents and purposes, dead. Then, guess what happened?”
“Get on with it, Gran. I’m tired and hungry, and don’t much care about Pettison, alive or dead.”
Gran sniffed. “Oh, very well. I won’t tell you any more. You’d better get down to the shop, so that you can all come back and have our tea.”
“Gran!”
“Well, he wasn’t dead, but had broken a lot of bones and is in Tresham General Hospital. Very serious accident, they said on the news.”
Derek stood up from the kitchen chair where he had flopped down, exhausted. “I’ll walk down to the shop, then. Five minutes, an’ I’ll be back. Perhaps we could have supper on the table?”
“Yes, sir; no, sir; three bags full, sir.” Gran sniffed again, and turned her back on him.
Lois and Josie were sitting in the stockroom discussing what they had found when Derek arrived. Lois could see at once that he was in a very bad mood.
“Something wrong?” she said, kissing his cheek.
“I was having hallucinations on the way home,” he said. “A warm kitchen, with good smells coming from the Rayburn, and a beautiful wife in a frilly pinny stirring a saucepan, with a happy smile on her face. And what did I get? A mother-in-law with a frown, ordering me to turn round and go out again into the cold night air, to find my wife and daughter with a problem. Oh yes, and something about the zookeeper having had a fall. Apart from that, no, nothing’s wrong.”
Lois and Josie laughed. “Poor old thing,” said Lois. “Well, this won’t take long. Come out to the shed. We’ve got something to show you.”
When they put on the light and removed the bag, the little cage was clearly visible, and inside the small occupants once more stared out.
“For God’s sake, what the hell are those things?”
“Baby elephants,” said Josie.
“They look like shrews to me,” Derek said, peering more closely. “But shrews don’t have that long snout, do they? Very small anteaters? They’re actually quite sweet, aren’t they, Josie? Bright little eyes. Not really frightened of us. But I see what you mean by baby elephants! Let’s hope they’re slow growing. So what d’you think? Is Justin keeping them as pets? Did he say anything about them before he left?”
Lois shook her head. “No, he rushed off up to help his mother, didn’t he, Josie?”
They decided to try and find Justin’s home number and ring him to see if they needed to do anything with the baby elephants before he returned. Then they shut up the shed and locked it, and made their way back to an irritated Gran.
“So what’s so important about a couple of white mice?” she said.
“Good guess,” said Lois. “No, not mice, but something rare, I reckon. We’re going to get hold of Justin. But supper first! Derek is faint from want of food.”
“Oh, and by the way, Lois, Cowgill rang, and Dot Nimmo rang. Cowgill said he’ll try again tomorrow, and Dot said to watch the news on the telly. I reckon it’s something to do with that Pettison at the zoo. He fell downstairs and Dot found him this morning.”
“Dead?” said Lois sharply.
“No, but badly hurt. He’s in hospital. Now, please get on with your supper. They’re showing a good film in the village hall tonight, and I’m going with Joan. You’ll wash up, won’t you?”
Thirty-six
“Here it is,” said Gran. Lois and Derek were eating hot apple tart and custard, and Gran had relented and offered to call enquiries for Justin’s number while they ate.
“What has enquiries found?” Lois asked.
“Very helpful,” said Gran, putting down the phone. “Sounded such a nice woman. I reckon she was hoping for a chat.”
“Yes, well, what did she say?”
“‘Brookes, D. Holly Farm, Longtoft Fen’. That sounds like it, doesn’t it? You could try that, anyway.”
“Well done, Mum,” Lois said. “Right, Derek, will you, or shall I?”