Death of a Hussy by MC Beaton Read Free Book Online Page A

looking at the Renault. ‘It’s a grand wee car,’ he said. ‘But I think before the test, we’d better let Ian down at the garage have a look at it. If there’s anything at all up with your car, they won’t even let you start the test. Are you ready? Get in the driving seat. You’ll be starting right away.’
    Alison climbed in and Hamish doubled his lanky length into the passenger seat beside her.
    ‘Now,’ he said, ‘check that your seat is the right distance from the pedals and that you don’t have to stretch. And then check your driving mirrors.’
    Alison shuffled about, jerking the car seat up too far forward and then sending it flying too far back in her excitement. Hamish got out again and took two Learner plates out of the Land Rover and fixed them to the front and back windows of the Renault.
    He climbed in again and then began to instruct Alison how to move off. ‘Mirror, signal, then manoeuvre,’ he said. ‘You turn your head and take a quick look back before you move off. Just imagine you’re out on a busy road. Turn on the engine, put the gear into first, release the clutch slowly to the biting point, that is until you feel the car surge forward a bit, and then release the handbrake.’
    Alison stalled several times. How could she ever get the coordination right? Driving was an unnatural act.
    ‘I think we’ll change places for a bit,’ said Hamish, ‘and I’ll take ye out on the road. Hardly anyone about at this time of night.’
    He patiently explained everything all over again once they were out on the road while Alison, once more in the driver’s seat, prayed to the God in whom she did not believe to send her wisdom.
    And then suddenly she was moving slowly along the cliff road while Hamish’s patient voice told her when to change gear – and then she was driving, the headlamps cutting a magic path through the night. Hamish decided to let her drive straight along for as long as possible to give her confidence. It was too early to teach her how to reverse or park. Alison, maintaining a nervous 30 m.p.h., felt she was flying as free as the wind.
    At last Hamish suggested gently that he turn the car and take her home.
    To Alison, Hamish Macbeth had become a godlike figure. She was so grateful to him and so shy of him at the same time, she could hardly stammer out an offer of coffee. But Hamish Macbeth was cautious and old-fashioned and knew enough about village gossip to realize that even in this isolated spot, someone would somehow find out he had gone into the house with Miss Alison Kerr and so he refused.
       
    He was surprised the following night to find a much more confident Alison, but Alison explained she had been driving up and down the short driveway all day. And then just as she was cruising along the cliff road, the engine began to cough and then died completely. ‘It’s Maggie, that old bitch,’ shouted Alison. ‘She’s been mistreating this car for years.’
    ‘Now, now,’ said Hamish soothingly. ‘I’ll just hae a look under the bonnet.’
    Alison waited in an agony of suspense while he raised the bonnet and examined the engine under the light of a powerful torch.
    He came back shaking his head. ‘Ian’ll need to hae a look at it,’ he said. ‘Wait here and I’ll walk back and get the Land Rover and we’ll tow it down to Lochdubh. Have you any money?’
    ‘I’ve been collecting my dole money,’ said Alison, ‘and I’ve quite a bit.’
    ‘Fine. Repairs are expensive, although I’ll have a word wi’ Ian. He owes me a few favours.’
    Ian Chisholm, the garage owner-cum-repairman, was not pleased at having to work after hours, and grumbled at the filthy state of the engine. ‘I’ll dae ma best,’ he said at last. ‘But it’ll cost ye. The points need cleaning and while ye’re at it, it needs a new clutch plate.’
    ‘A wee word with you, Ian,’ said Hamish, leading him away from Alison.
    Alison waited anxiously while the two men put their heads