7 Sorrow on Sunday by Ann Purser Read Free Book Online Page B

“How was Josie?”
    “Didn’t see her,” Lois said casually. “Rob was in the shop, and she was busy in the stockroom. I had a chat with him, bought the eggs and came straight home. Happy?”
    “I don’t know why you are so difficult,” Gran said. “You had loving parents, were a spoilt only one, and have a very patient, wonderful husband.”
    “Not to mention my long-suffering, hard-working mother!” Lois gave her mother a big hug, said some people reckoned she, Lois, was exactly like her mum, and so there was nothing to be done. “I’ll be in my office for an hour or so,” Lois continued. “Paperwork to catch up on.”
    Sitting at her desk, Lois looked at her diary. Tomorrow would be market day in Tresham, and usually she and Gran went together. It was a routine outing, and Gran loved it, trawling the market stalls for bargains and meeting old friends. Lois chewed the end of her pen. Could she take Gran into the pub? And then what would she do with her if Joe Horsley was there? Come to that, how could she introduce herself to a perfect stranger without sounding like a middle-aged whore?
    She doodled on her pad, then realized she had drawn the face of a heavily made-up, raddled old woman.
Exactly
, she said to herself, screwing up the paper and throwing it in the bin. But wait a minute. If she and Gran decided on a snack lunch at the pub, a special treat, she could keep her ears open for mention of Joe Horsley—maybe at a game of darts, or standing his round. Lunch was more respectable than just a drink, and then she could do some serious eavesdropping, somehow concealing it from Gran. Yep, that was worth a try. If he wasn’t there, nothing would be lost.
    The telephone rang. She picked it up, and heard the familiar voice of Cowgill. “Hello, Lois. How are you?”
    “If you’ve nothing better to do than enquire after my health, then don’t waste my time,” she answered sharply.
    “Only keeping up standards of politeness in the Force,” he said. “You sound fierce. Any reason why I’ve irritated you more than usual?”
    “Yes. You have gone too far, Cowgill. You had already asked me to talk to Derek, see if he’d remembered anything extra. Then you go and approach him direct! If you don’t trust me, then we’d better end all this malarkey right now.”
    “Slow down, Lois!” he said firmly. “I asked you to talk to Derek about the van crash. My suggestion that he might come in and tell us what he knows about stable thefts is another matter entirely. Fair’s fair, Lois. You must admit that.”
    Lois said nothing for a few seconds, and then conceded that he was right. “But I’m working on the thefts, and at the moment it’d be best if you left Derek to me. By the way, have you got any useful info?”
    “Nothing beyond speculation at the moment, Lois. But you’ll be first to know if we get something concrete.”
    “Like a block of it through the police station window?” she answered. “I should know better than to ask.”
    Cowgill chuckled. “I love you, Lois,” he said, but his voice was carefully light. “And have you anything to tell me?”
    “Nothing beyond speculation at the moment,” she said, and ignored his declaration of love.

E LEVEN

    D OT N IMMO, NEAT AND CLEAN AND SMELLING OF CHEAP scent, left her house by the front door, carefully locking up behind her. She walked past New Brooms with her head down, and turned into the next street. There she waited for a bus to take her into one of the wealthier areas of Tresham, where there were big old houses and tasteful new housing developments. Dot had been there before, but not for a long time.
    The bus was full. It was market day, and many people went into town early to catch the bargains and fresh food, and were now on their way home. Women with bulky plastic shopping bags, and young mothers with pre-school children clogged up the aisle when Dot wanted to alight. “Make way!” she said sharply. “Some of us ’ave a