Nancy Business

by R. W. R. McDonald

  Fabulon hurried down the garden steps in front of us, then slowed down and lifted his leg, peeing beside the red front door.

  Devon grimaced. ‘Awful.’

  Uncle Pike ignored him and opened the door. Paint fumes hit us straight away. As I entered the first thing I noticed were the ceilings—they looked amazing painted black, like you could fall up into them forever. ‘Jack and his crew have been busy over the weekend,’ Uncle Pike said. Fabulon pushed past us and trotted down the hallway, his nails clicking on the floorboards.

  I was quiet, craning my neck up to inspect the ceilings. I opened my bedroom door and stuck my head in. They had painted it the way I asked, black walls and white ceiling. I ran inside and twirled, trying to take it all in at once. ‘I love it!’ I called out. Uncle Pike and Devon came in, and for the first time in ages, they both smiled at the same time.

  Next we checked out their bedroom. It had been painted as well, and the silk wallpaper was up. Even unfinished it was like something from a magazine. Finally, Devon spoke. ‘Well, I must admit Jack Pepper has done an excellent job with the painting and wallpapering.’

  ‘High praise indeed,’ Uncle Pike said.

  Devon fake-smiled then disappeared out of the room. We caught up with him in the ensuite, where the walls and floor were pale blue with waterproofing. Next, we checked out the living room, which was unchanged.

  I had an idea. ‘Can we move the couch in there?’ I asked, pointing to the Nancys room.

  My uncle put his arm around my shoulder. ‘Standing meetings, Tippy, standing meetings.’

  ‘Ugh,’ I said, and moved away. Fabulon stiffened then barked a deep loud woof. He ran off down the hallway. Banging, rather than knocking, came from the front door. Devon froze in the middle of filling up the jug and we all looked at each other.

  ‘Duncan Nunn again?’ I whispered.

  The banging continued, then we heard Lorraine’s muffled yell: ‘I know you’re in there losers, your ute’s parked outside.’

  ‘Lorraine’s here?’ Uncle Pike said. ‘Wow. I’ve got a few words for her.’ He moved towards the hallway.

  ‘No,’ I said. He stopped like I’d slapped him. ‘If she’s here it must be important. Maybe it’s about today’s bomb threat.’ Although I didn’t know that, I wanted to see her because she could have new information. And no way was I going to lose a mystery, Riverstone Bridge and Devon.

  Uncle Pike crossed his arms. ‘Tippy, we’re done.’ He glanced at Devon.‘After everything, and more importantly after what she did—’

  ‘What happened to me,’ I said. ‘I need this, and the Nancys need this. You owe me. Both of you.’ Devon looked at the bench. ‘I’ll deal with it,’ I said. I left them and ran to the door, not giving myself any more time to think.

  Fabulon was already on his hind legs, barking and scratching at the front door’s fresh paint. I pulled him down by his collar. ‘Sit.’ He sat beside me, pressed against my leg, and watched me open the door.

  Lorraine Ashton stood there like a bouncer, wraparound sunnies on and her arms folded. She gave me a head tilt. ‘Chan.’

  I expected to feel a surge of hate or anger towards her, but instead I felt nothing. It was just Lorraine.

  She frowned at Fabulon. ‘Why’s your dog pink?’ He barked at her and she reached for her throat in surprise.

  ‘Hold on.’ I grabbed Fabulon by his collar and pulled him towards the master bedroom. ‘What’s wrong with pink?’ I opened the bedroom door and dragged him in. He wasn’t happy but I managed to get the door shut.

  I turned and nearly tripped over Lorraine right behind me. Her sunnies were off and her left eye was a dark purple.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked.

  ‘Door fell on it.’ She stunk of stale booze. ‘Chan, I’m sorry.’

  Uncle Pike growled from the living room doorway. ‘After what you’ve done. You can take your—’

  ‘She’s with me,’ I said. I grabbed Lorraine’s hand, which was warm and sweaty. I tried not to grimace. ‘Come on.’

  ‘I don’t want her in this house,’ Uncle Pike said.

  ‘Too bad.’ I dragged her down the hallway, her hand nearly slipping out of mine. ‘At least she told me the truth.’

  His face turned red. Uncle Pike had never yelled at me before, but there was always a first. Then he spotted Lorraine’s eye and backed down instantly. ‘Shit. Are you okay?’

  Devon appeared behind him. ‘Who did that?’

  Lorraine grunted and raised her eyebrows then winced. ‘Let’s say that maybe I deserved this door slam.’

  My uncle frowned. ‘No one deserves that. Ever. Come on, truce. Sit down.’

  ‘I can put makeup on it if you like?’ Devon said. ‘If you want it to disappear?’

  She waved him away. ‘Let’s not talk about it.’ She sat on the couch and looked down at her hands. ‘But thank you.’

  Devon put the jug on and I hopped up and got her a mug of water. She held it in both hands, and my throat thickened at the memory of Lorraine happy with her mugachino at Skinny Genies before I told her about Barry. She gulped the water down. ‘Ahhhh, needed that.’

  ‘Big night?’ Uncle Pike asked, glancing at Devon. ‘Wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Hornblower?’

  ‘He’s on a bit of a bender. You heard about his mum?’

  Uncle Pike nodded and Devon avoided his eyes.

  Lorraine raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s up with you two?’ The jug’s rocket booster noise started and my uncle gave her a creepy smile. ‘I’m sure Hornblower’s filled you in.’

  She brushed down her pants. ‘I did hear you got your arse bitten.’

  ‘Coming forth,’ Devon yelled over the jug making its takeoff noise.

  Lorraine frowned at Devon then looked at me and my uncle for a response. I shrugged. She leaned back and sighed.

  We were quiet while the jug finished leaving Earth’s orbit. I jumped up and grabbed sugar and milk and put them on the coffee table while Devon filled the teapot. He brought it over on a tray with the mugs.

  Uncle Pike picked it up. ‘Ow, fuck!’ He dropped the teapot onto the tray. ‘How did you get this so hot?’

  Devon put his hand on his hip. ‘Hello?’

  I took a sip of my tea and burned my mouth. ‘Ow!’ I glared at Devon. ‘How?’ I waved my hand in front of my mouth. ‘This has milk in it.’

  He ignored me and spoke to Lorraine. ‘You’re cousins with Councillor Dalrymple, right?’

  She snorted. ‘I’m fourth generation. I’m related to half the town but not that wannabe.’

  Devon tapped a teaspoon against his chin. ‘That does explain the hair.’

  ‘Doesn’t explain Chan’s though.’ Lorraine smirked.

  ‘Burn!’ Devon said.

  Uncle Pike tried not to snigger.

  I rolled my eyes and gripped my mug, hoping the heat would stop me saying something I’d regret. The room went quiet. I was about to ask her about the security camera blind spot when I had an idea: if Lorraine knew what we already had, it would be quicker for her to fill in the gaps.

  ‘We can show you,’ I said to Lorraine, standing up. Plus I was proud of the Nancys and couldn’t wait for her to see our HQ. She was our first official visitor.

  ‘Excellent idea, Tippy,’ Uncle Pike said.

  Lorraine stared at me. ‘Show me what?’

  ‘Not here,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to get up. It’s in the next room.’

  She sighed and stood up to follow Devon. He opened the Nancys’ door and shrieked, backing into us.

  ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Uncle Pike spilled hot tea down his front. I managed to juggle my drink so I didn’t drop it. Lorraine was not impressed. Devon turned to us with his mouth open.

  Behind him the walls were freshly painted white.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  We rushed in. The paint fumes were strong. All our work had been wiped out. Our forensic lab was gone. No paper anywhere—the floor spotless.

/>   ‘You got me up to show me nothing?’ Lorraine said.

  ‘Did you take photos?’ Uncle Pike asked me.

  I shook my head. ‘Not like Mum’s windows. I thought …’ I pointed to the walls. I examined them closely in case our drawings were still visible under the paint, but I could only see white.

  ‘So we don’t have a backup?’ Devon rubbed his hands through his hair. ‘We’ve lost everything. My pens?’

  Lorraine sighed and checked her phone.

  ‘We could check the rubbish?’ I said.

  Devon buckled to his knees on the floor. ‘We’re ruined.’

  Uncle Pike snorted. ‘It’s not like we’re a bank,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, Tippy. I’m sure we can work this out in no time.’

  I put my hands on my hips. ‘Why are you blaming me?’

  ‘Of course I’m not.’ My uncle sighed, flapping his shirt where the tea was.

  ‘Kind of feels like you are,’ I said, clenching my fists.‘Just because I’m a girl doesn’t make me the secretary.’

  Lorraine grunted in agreement.

  Uncle Pike’s face flushed. ‘No one’s saying that.’ A chill hit me. Unless that’s what a P.A. is supposed to do? ‘You took photos at Christmas time, remember?’ he said. ‘And when we’ve been out.’

  He was right. ‘Oh,’ I said, suddenly feeling like an arse-clown.

  ‘We’re supposed to be corporate,’ Devon said to my uncle. ‘That’s what you said. More efficient, better group productivity.’ He put his hands on his head. ‘Increased collaboration!’

  Lorraine raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms.

  ‘You remembered all that?’ Uncle Pike said.

  ‘Well, it’s pretty clear your standing up meetings have had the opposite effect,’ Devon said, then walked out, yelling, ‘I remember everything.’

  ‘Is this normal?’ Lorraine asked me.

  Uncle Pike sighed again. He lifted his shirt, showing his big belly with an angry pink splotch where the tea had spilled.

  ‘You okay?’ I asked.

  He dropped the shirt and gave me a tired smile. ‘I will be, honey. Thanks.’

  I touched Uncle Pike’s hand. ‘He’s not wrong about the standing meetings.’

  We went back to the living room and sat down. I told Lorraine everything we had seen and done, Uncle Pike and Devon adding in any extra details. When I finished Lorraine nodded. ‘Hornblower, I knew it. I knew he couldn’t keep his trap shut.’

  She leaned back and snickered. ‘No wonder they painted it—you have nothing. I think your clown posse’s solving Everson’s murder at Christmas was a fluke. Maybe just stick to “What I did on my school holidays”.’ Lorraine would be a horrible boss.

  Devon batted his eyelashes. ‘To be fair, these actually are Tippy’s school holidays.’

  Lorraine slurped her tea. ‘And maybe we’ll never know why Willem Jansen did it. You’re all wasting your time.’ She sounded almost happy for Lorraine.

  Devon massaged his temples. ‘Why are you LOLing? Shouldn’t you investigate? And you’re still not off the hook for giving Tippy her Dad’s accident report. You can’t go telling other people’s stories.’

  ‘That is literally my job.’ She turned to me. ‘And I am sorry, Chan. That’s what I came here to say.’

  I nodded. I could tell she meant it. ‘Same here,’ I said.

  Lorraine gulped down the last of her drink. ‘Police aren’t taking the bomb threat seriously. They think it’s a hoax. Security is beefed up, maybe an extra car today, but that’s about it.’

  ‘But how do they know for sure?’ I said.

  She passed me her warm empty mug.‘Embargoed—even I don’t know that.’ She stood up. ‘If you ask me, there’s plenty you could be doing with your time rather than creating conspiracy theories about a second bomber.’

  ‘But the blind spot?’ I said. I felt like she was holding something back. ‘Is that what happened to your face, you got too close?’

  Lorraine gave me a weird look then sighed. ‘Fine, I owe you. Off the record, the pub’s security camera was moved on Saturday before the explosion.’

  The same day Mrs Brown saw Mr Tulips in town at the vet. We all looked at each other while Lorraine rummaged in her bag.

  She pulled out a pen and a notepad. ‘Riverstone Security had a work order but no one knows who approved or ordered it. Hornblower told you that when he was drunk, okay?’ She tapped her pen against the pad. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you are that worried you should talk to Barry.’

  We all stared at her.

  ‘For fuck’s sake.’ Lorraine scribbled down his number on a notepad. ‘I got a lot of information off him before …’ She trailed off and glanced at me, then tore off the corner with his number on it and held it out to Uncle Pike, who went to take it. At the last moment, she pulled her hand back. ‘But on the remote chance you find something, you share. And you still owe me that carton of cigarettes and single malt.’

  My uncle nodded and she handed him the paper.

  ‘I thought reporters never reveal their sources,’ Devon said.

  ‘Not my source anymore. He belongs to your crowd.’

  Uncle Pike burst out laughing and Lorraine joined in.

  ‘And when you’re ready to share about this.’ My uncle pointed to his eye. ‘You let us know.’

  Lorraine appeared to be about to say something, or cry, but instead gave him a nod goodbye.

  I put our mugs on the table. ‘I’ll show you out.’

  ‘See you, Nimrod,’ she yelled at Devon from the hallway. As we got to the front door she stopped. ‘Chan, I really am sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. You told the truth. Remember? You and me, we’re truth tellers.’

  Lorraine put on her sunnies. ‘Veracious.’ She smiled. ‘You’re a good bitch, Chan. Don’t let anyone tell you different.’

  I shut the door after her and heard scratching from the master bedroom. Shit, Fabulon. I opened the door and he trotted off down the hallway, then veered off to explore the ensuite. I checked inside their bedroom, but luckily no doggie doo.

  As I walked back to the living room, I wondered about the security camera being moved. Uncle Pike had picked up a couple of the bags of clues and I grabbed the rest, taking them to our blank, whitewashed Nancys room, and dropping them into the middle of the floor.

  I crouched down and pulled my tablet out of the backpack. I got the security-cam video files on screen and passed it to him. From outside the room came a loud scraping noise. ‘Since those standing meetings the Nancys haven’t been the same,’ I said.

  My uncle glared at the hallway. ‘Really?’ he said. ‘I don’t think you can blame standing up—’

  The scraping stopped as Devon appeared in the open doorway, holding up one end of Grandma’s floral couch.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Uncle Pike asked.

  ‘Yay!’ I said. I was so sick of standing up.

  ‘You’re scratching the floor,’ my uncle said.

  Devon ignored him, dragging it in and scratching the floor even more. He dumped it in the middle of the room. ‘Not my problem,’ he said.

  Uncle Pike frowned. ‘It’s our house?’

  Devon climbed on the sofa and took my hand, pulling me up. We both jumped up and down on it. ‘No more standing, no more standing,’ we chanted.

  ‘Hope you break it,’ Uncle Pike said.

  The couch made strange noises as we jumped, the springs squeaking and clunking. Devon tried to go higher, ‘Let’s use the window this time,’ he said. ‘Easier to clean.’

  ‘And I’ll take photos of them with my tablet,’ I said.

  ‘Thanks, Tippy,’ Uncle Pike said. ‘Only if you want to.’

  I smiled. Devon stopped and sat, burying his head in his hands.

  I stopped bouncing and glanced at my uncle, worried. ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked Devon.

  He looked lost.‘I don’t have any markers,’ he said in a small voice.

 
; ‘Oh.’ I sprang off the couch and rummaged in my bag, pulling out a brand new pack. ‘Present!’ I handed them to him.

  His mouth dropped open then he leaped up. ‘Yay!’ He turned to my uncle. ‘Okay if I use the window?’

  ‘Fuck that,’ Uncle Pike said and took the pens. I was about to tell him off for being mean when he drew a red circle on the white wall. ‘The walls are bigger. We can always re-paint them,’ he said, not turning around.

  I noticed Devon grin. ‘Great idea,’ I said, and he nodded.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked my uncle.

  He pointed to it. ‘Come on …’

  We both shrugged. ‘Toilet paper?’ I suggested.

  Devon scratched his head. ‘A clown nose?’

  ‘It’s a bomb,’ Uncle Pike said.

  Devon wrestled the red pen off him. ‘I guess … Thank you anyway.’

  I side-hugged Uncle Pike and he chuckled, his belly moving up and down. ‘Well, we are the Nancys.’

  Devon held the red pen up close. ‘Hello, red.’

  I beamed and perched on the edge of the couch. We were back together. Uncle Pike sat beside me. He watched all the security-camera videos. Seeing them again still made me feel like I was watching something private. I rubbed the back of my neck and concentrated on details this time. I kept an eye out for Chuck. I was right, he didn’t appear in any of the videos. No one was on the footpaths from Mum’s work, Bigelow Jewellers, or the security camera above the pub. I had secretly hoped we had missed something the first time round because we had been focusing on the van and the explosion.

  After Uncle Pike watched the last one, he sat back on the couch and rubbed his face. Fabulon put his head on my uncle’s lap.

  ‘Let’s map it out,’ Devon said, red ink on the tip of his nose.

  ‘Good idea, darling,’ my uncle said. He reached out to touch Devon, then must’ve realised what he’d said and pulled back, embarrassed. ‘Sorry, got a bit carried away there.’

  Devon bowed his head and pretended not to notice, but from his smile I could tell he was secretly pleased.

  On my tablet I pulled up a map of downtown Riverstone, before the bomb. Devon copied it in blue pen, using our old forensics lab space above the fireplace. He drew from the last arch of Riverstone Bridge, then the corner of Main Street all the way to the end of the first block, where Barry had put the police cordon up on the night of the bombing. Then he put in the town hall, pub, Henderson Lawyers, shops and Mum’s work. On the other side of the corner he drew the road that runs alongside the rugby field and showgrounds, and the grandstand.