Scandal at Six(8)

“Nothing to sort out, as far as I’m concerned,” Gran said, calmly putting the kettle on the Rayburn. “You know where the cutlery is, and I’ll get plates out of the dishwasher. You did remember to switch it on last night before bedtime, I hope?”

“No, we didn’t,” snapped Lois. “You know perfectly well you always do it before you go up.”

Gran ignored her, and began to assemble bread, butter, marmalade, eggs and bacon. “Here you are, duckie,” she said. “I’ll just nip upstairs and get some dry shoes, and you can give me a shout when breakfast’s ready.”

When Derek came down, he sat glumly opposite Lois and said, “What do we do now? Is this just to show how we can’t manage without her? If so, for heaven’s sake, let’s make peace with her and get back to normal.”

“Not sure about that,” said Lois. “Don’t forget what she said at the meeting. She’d got it all worked out, even to continuing to cook for us—at a price.”

“She’s coming down. Act normal,” said Derek. “Maybe she just needs time to think.”

The door opened, and Gran came in. “Ah, that looks nice. Scrambled egg for me, please.”

Instead of replying pleasantly, Lois stood up, pushing her chair back violently. “Then get it yourself!” she said, and stormed out. Derek and Gran heard her office door bang shut, and in a minute or so, her voice on the telephone, sharp and loud. Gran looked at Derek and smiled. “Bacon for you, dear?” she said, and began to cut off the rind.



*



“My favourite caller!” said Inspector Cowgill. “How are you and the family?”

“Not happy, Cowgill,” she said. “Meade House is falling apart, and I haven’t had any breakfast. Mum is on strike, and I am in danger of committing whatever is the word for murdering your mother. Derek, as usual, is trying to keep the peace. Oh yes, and the shop is being invaded by reptiles. But you may have heard about that from Matthew?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I was away at the weekend, visiting my sister, but no doubt when I see him he will tell me about the invasion. Why don’t you take a deep breath and start at the beginning with Mrs Weedon’s defection?”

Lois subsided. Cowgill always had a calming effect on her, except when she suspected she was being patronised, when the call would be summarily cut off.

“Right, okay, sorry if I shouted. I’ll tell you briefly about the reptiles, because that’s what made the subject of the empty flat come up. When Josie went in first thing Saturday to open up, she went to the storeroom and saw a snake looking at her from a pile of boxes. She screamed, and Andrew Young, who was coming in for a paper, rescued her. The Tresham Zoo man came and took it away. But meantime, Josie had opened the counter drawer to find the account book, and found a sodding great toad crawling towards her. The next morning, Matthew went upstairs to look in the flat for clues, and trod on a dead frog halfway up.”

“I know some of this already, of course, but it is not nice, Lois. Carry on.”

“We didn’t tell Josie about the frog. But all of us agreed that we should get a tenant for the flat as soon as possible, to keep an eye on security. O’course, that great spread in the newspaper about the snake won’t do us any good in attracting tenants. Anyway, we had a meeting yesterday, and Gran made this ridiculous suggestion. She wants to be the tenant, and come up and cook for us on a freelance basis. And she wants to be paid!”

There was a short silence, and then a snuffling sound from Cowgill.

“Are you laughing, Hunter Cowgill?” said Lois angrily.

“No, of course not. It’s just that I was thinking how clever your mother is. She chose her moment to strike, didn’t she!”

“You mean she planted the reptiles!”

“Well, that’s possible. But no, that’s not what I meant. She, too, was shocked and shaken by the cruelty of it, and then found a way of taking your minds off it by letting off steam about being taken for granted. Can you see her living down the street, cut off from all that goes on at Meade House?”

Lois was silent for a moment, then said, “I suppose you couldn’t come over? You could say you were investigating the reptiles, and then have a chat with her. I know you’ll think of a good excuse. She’s cock-a-hoop at the moment, being right at centre stage. Please?”

“Oh dear, and I’ve got a golf game fixed up for this morning. Will this afternoon do?”

“She’ll probably have swanned off on the train to London by then. There’s sales on in Oxford Street, and she always goes. Not that she buys anything, but she loves to be part of sale fever. Can’t you cancel it, or postpone it, or something? Please?”