“Well, this man got into the hospital without being spotted, and made his way to Pettison’s private room. A nurse saw him and let him in. She shouldn’t have, but he convinced her he was family. He was there for only about five minutes, they reckon. Pettison had asked the nurse to get rid of him after ten minutes, but luckily he was able to reach the bell before that, and she came running. Too late to catch the intruder, though.” Dot began to laugh. “Oh, sorry, Mrs M,” she continued. “It’s just the thought of it. What if he was wearing one of them little shorty hospital nightshirts?”
“Dot! Get on with it, gel,” said Lois. “Most of that I can read in the newspapers.”
“No, there’s more. Now, we all know that the nurse ran for help, and they got him cleaned up and back into bed. His face was red and sore, and he was very cold. But mostly he’d lost the power of speech. He wasn’t damaged, but it was the trauma and humiliation, Betsy said.”
“And it was him in church?” Lois said thoughtfully. “He must think he’s going to die in mortal sin. But knowing Pettison, he probably had some ulterior motive. So what else did Betsy say?”
“Well, apparently her and that Justin Brookes, who’s Pettison’s nephew, are keeping things going, and have plans for the future of the zoo.”
“How are they going to keep it going? Pettison may recover, I suppose, and then it’ll be business as usual.”
Dot shook her head. “No, Brookes and Betsy mean to make some changes. There’s no possibility of Pettison recovering immediately, and maybe never as good as he was before, so it seems.”
“This’ll take some thinking about,” said Lois. “Thanks for coming over, Dot. I do appreciate it. On your day off, as well. I’m just about to take the dog for a walk. Do you want to come?”
Dot shook her head. “Gracious no, Mrs M. I’m going home to a good fire and a film on the telly. I’ll say cheerio, then, and see you at the New Brooms meeting tomorrow.”
Forty-nine
“So what did she want, gel?” Derek said, as they sat side by side on the sofa, the telly finally switched off, Josie and Matthew waved off to the cottage, and Jeems safely in her basket in the kitchen.
“You mean Dot? Well, I’m sworn to secrecy, I’m afraid.”
“Oh dear, not again,” he said. “Couldn’t you make up a story, not necessarily true, and then I can be happy?”
“That’s a bit devious, isn’t it?”
Derek shrugged. “Please yourself,” he said.
Lois took a deep breath, and began. “Once upon a time, there was a nosy old man who lived in a nice village in the English Midlands. He couldn’t bear for his wife to have secrets from him, so he attached her by the wrists to a picture hook on the wall. It’d have been a very strong hook, as she was seriously overweight.” At this, Lois collapsed into laughter. “Oh Derek, this is ridiculous. No, I’ll tell you a serious story, and you can decide how much I am making up.”
When she had finished, they both sat in silence. Then Derek spoke in a whisper. “Was it really all over him?” he said.
She nodded. “He was covered with it, everywhere,” she said.
“And the nurse found him like that?” Derek put his arm round her shoulders.
She nodded again. “But he didn’t swallow any paint, or anything like that.”
“No wonder he’s lost the power of speech, poor old fool.”
“I think it’s time for bed,” Lois said. “It’s been quite a day.” She kissed him fondly, and he gallantly stood up and pulled her to her feet. Then he picked her up, moved two steps and put her down again.
“You’re right,” he said. “She was seriously overweight.”
*
Next morning, Lois was in her office preparing for the team meeting when her phone rang. It was Diana, and she had news. “Hi, Mrs Meade. Jamie’s been in touch. Apparently he heard the story in Australia! No, that wasn’t the reason I’m ringing. This morning we’ve had a handout from Tresham Zoo,” she said. “I thought you might be interested.”
“What does it say?”
“It says that owing to local rumours about the zoo closing, they want to assure all visitors that although it is under temporary new management, they are open as usual, and there will be more interactive opportunities, as well as upgrading the café.”
Justin and Betsy haven’t wasted any time, Lois thought. I hope they’ve consulted Pettison. He is still the boss, after all. “That café could certainly do with an overhaul,” she said. “Coffee tastes like dishwater, and the cakes are always stale.”