by Sam Speed
Copyright © 2020 Sam Speed
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Contents
Copyright
Dinosaur Diet
Lisa's Helping Hand
Not So Berry Nice
A Wet Snowball
Foraging Fun
Dinosaurs and Bikes
An Indoor Jungle
Where Babies Come From
A Little Light Reading
Turn of the Screw
Rambling Lisa
Yvette's Work
Lisa Ignores the Detective
Lisa Moves On
Wendy Rebels
Jean in Trouble
No Such Thing as a Free Lunch
Lorna's Story
Suzy's Story
Lisa is Accosted
Lisa Goes to Church
Christine Supplies the Answer
Afterword
Dawn's Dinosaur Detectives
Books By This Author
Dinosaur Diet
by
Sam Speed
Lisa's Helping Hand
Now I understood. The missing bike spoke. The attacks. With this, I could prove my innocence. I was going to take so much pleasure in telling Detective Black. I could imagine the shattered look on his supercilious face. A smile played on my lips. Then I heard a sound behind me.
#
My knees creaked and locked into place. Every bone and muscle in my body ached. Why on earth did I agree to this? Whoever heard of a dinosaur diet? Well, of course, no-one has, which is why it and the matching exercises were my best friend Dawn's new fad.
Dawn tossed her long reddish-blond ponytail back over her shoulder. Sometimes I envied Dawn's hair, but my short feathered cut was much more practical. Besides, it's not the same flicking a mousy brown ponytail.
'Right ladies,' she said, 'that will do for today. You've been a great class. I'll look forward to seeing you back here next Thursday. Feel free to invite your friends.'
I looked around at the rest of the class, all two of them. It took more than a small setback -- like almost no-one coming -- to curb Dawn's enthusiasm.
'Now don't forget to pick up a pack at the door. There's lots of information about what the dinosaurs would have eaten. Please keep to the diet as far as possible, practice your exercises every day and walk instead of drive. I've included leaflets about foraging, thanks to my friend Jean. That's a great way to save money but I wouldn't try it on your own, in case you pick the wrong thing. We'll be organising a group forage soon. Jean runs a foraging class if you want to know more. Her phone number is on the leaflet. Why don't you take some packs for your friends?'
Dawn looked wistfully at her massive bundle. My friend the eternal optimist.
'If either of you wants to have a go at gathering your own honey, pop around to my house any morning.'
'I didn't realise dinosaurs farmed honey,' I said with a smile.
Dawn grimaced, but she knew I was winding her up.
'They didn't, but I need to allow honey to keep the diet balanced. And it's natural.'
The beehives in Dawn's tiny cottage garden were a left over from an earlier fad. The bees still caused a bit of irritation among her elderly neighbours, but she was always so kind to them they never complained. Besides, they liked the free jars of honey.
'That went well don't you think Lisa?' Dawn said as we cleared the hall after the class.
'I thought the exercises were quite fun,' I said with an unusual attempt at tact. 'Although you are going to need a lot more than two in the class if you want to make money out of this.'
'You're right, as always, but I'm not sure what more I can do. I put up posters in the local shops, delivered leaflets and paid for an advert in the Leader.'
I loved Dawn to bits, but she had no idea when it comes to human nature. This called for a little Lisa magic.
'I'm sure word will get around and you'll have more people next week,' I said.
Dawn's amber eyes widened in surprise. She knew I was up to something; I don't do optimistic. But, as usual, she decided it would be better not to know.
At night, I slept the sleep of the just, well of the just about to be sneaky.
In the morning, I jumped into my car. All right, I slid slowly in, every muscle aching from my exercises the day before. I had a brief twinge of guilt as I remembered Dawn saying that we should walk whenever possible. After all, dinosaurs didn't have cars. But, my indignant muscles over-ruled my rather weak conscience. It's not like I need to lose weight. I'm one of those lucky people who can do no exercise, eat whatever rubbish I want and still stay as thin as a supermodel. What? It's true. Some of us are born to be perfect.
So I drove the short distance to the Spar. When I say Spar it's actually a Co-op and has been for years but this is Ayrshire and people in Ayrshire don't like change. So the Spar it remains to the local people in Nu Faran, the Kilmarrick housing scheme where I live, and the Spar it will always be. Despite having grown over the years to have the stock of any small self service shop, the owner Anne MacDonald still worked the shop herself and liked to treat her customers as though they were in an old fashioned corner shop.
Anne was standing at the side of the counter chatting to her friend Christine Murray. I could never figure out how those two became friends. Anne was short, plump, middle-aged and a workaholic. She liked nothing better than gossip and could be quite nasty about it.
Christine was in her early thirties, small and petite. Despite being widowed at an early age, she was always smiling and helping people in any way she could. She'd inherited money from her parents when they died in a car accident a few years before. So she didn't have to work,but she did a lot for local charities.
One of the leaflets about foraging was lying at the side of the shop so it looked liked those had been passed around.
Anne came bustling over to where I was standing. If she'd been on her own I could have said my piece and got out before she realised I hadn't bought anything. But she moved smoothly into serving mode.
'Hello, Lisa. What can I do for you today?'
I bought a cream doughnut. Anne's were not as nice as the baker's in Kilmarrick town centre, but I would force it down.
I straightened myself up to my full five foot eight inches to tower over Anne and emphasise how slim I was. I indicated the bundle of Dawn's leaflets lying at the side of the counter.
'How brave you are,' I said, 'missing out on your chance to lose a bit of weight. I know people expect a local shopkeeper to be comfortably cuddly, but...'
At the words 'comfortably cuddly' Anne's face radiated from white to red.
'I really don't have time for a class, what with the shop,' she spluttered.
'That is so you,' I said, 'always putting other people first. You keep working away, not even considering your own health. I know I wouldn't want my husband to be lying on the sofa every night watching television while I work in the shop, but you are such a saint. You never even take a night off to go out with Christine, now she's on her own. You are so dedicated.'
'Know something. You're right. My son is staying at home at the moment. Perhaps I can get him to watch the shop for me.'
'Yes, I heard about him losing his job at the call centre and breaking up with his girlfriend. Sorry to hear that.'
Of course, I couldn't care less but was not stupid enough to say so.
&nb
sp; I left the shop as Anne picked up one of the leaflets and started reading it.
'What do you think Christine? Might be fun.'
Christine moved over to look at the leaflet and I left, confident that I had done enough.
I hung about reading the small ads in the shop window as I waited for my next victim, err customer. And here she came.
Yvette was thirty something and bordering on obese. Unfortunately, she seemed to think she looked attractive in clothes more suited to an anorexic teenager with no taste. Today she had on a short cerise tunic which was tight enough to show her rolls of fat. She wore it over a pair of green and orange striped leggings. Her fat legs stretched them until the seams were coming apart. To top it off she had on luminous purple trainers. She wore sunglasses on the top of her head. At least her hair wouldn't get blinded.
I could see her silver car with its black cat motif, parked close by. She was well known for her lazy parking. The nearest parking space was only a few yards away but she wasn't prepared to walk the short distance. Instead, she abandoned her car right outside the shop. The back of her car was on yellow lines and the front half way into a disabled bay blocking the car already in the bay. The disabled driver who was trying to move her car tooted her horn to let Yvette know that she couldn't get out. Yvette waved cheerily to her as she walked towards the shop.
As far as I was concerned the only good thing about Yvette was that she liked cats. Other than that she was a selfish manipulative bitch. Not that there's anything wrong with being manipulative when it in a good cause, of course.
'Hi, Yvette,' I said sweetly.
She looked at me suspiciously. Why did no-one believe I could be nice? Admittedly, being nice to Yvette was a struggle.
'You missed yourself at Dawn's new class,' I said. 'The diet is tasty and the exercises were such fun. Don't you think Angela's looking great?'
I glanced across the road the road to Yvette's arch enemy Angela. Angela was petite and slim and she worked hard to keep it that way. Her Lycra leggings even looked all right on her. At least they were not full of bulges. Her short blond hair waved over her face. With her button nose and full red lips, it was hardly surprising Yvette hated her.
'Is Angela going?' Yvette looked interested.
Every time Yvette opened her mouth the stale smell of cigarettes wafted out from between her yellow stained teeth, turning my stomach. It almost put me off the thought of my doughnut, but not quite.
'Oh, you know Angela,' I said, 'she'll do anything to keep looking good. And this class is more like fun than working out.'
There, done without having to actually lie. No way that Yvette would miss out on the class if she thought she might have a chance to show up Angela. As if.
I crept across the road. A car raced impatiently down the street and screeched to a stop when I turned my world famous, well at least town famous, glare on the driver. I could see him cowering behind the wheel as he waited for me to finish crossing. He was visibly praying that I would not feel the need to talk to him about his driving. This was so much more fun than the phony being nice to people thing. But, I was on a mission and reluctantly, I let him go.
#
Yvette watched Lisa walking across to speak to Angela. A tear trickled out of her eye, but she wiped it away. It wouldn't do for anyone to see a moment of weakness. She had no idea she would become so emotional. She wished she could be as confident as Lisa. Lisa didn't seem to care what anybody else thought, but people didn't hate Lisa the way they did Yvette. She supposed there were reasons for that.
#
Angela was easy to persuade. She was only too happy to try out another fad diet and exercise class, especially when she would have the chance to show up Yvette. I wondered why she hadn't come the night before until I saw her peering at the leaflet I'd given her. Reading was not Angela's forte.
She skipped away, probably deciding which of her stunning Lycra outfits to wear at the new class. On her way, she passed a pram with a pair of plump legs beneath it.
It was Mary out walking her new granddaughter. I knew it was Mary because she was the only one living in the scheme who was too small to be seen over the top of the pram.
'Do let me see the baby,' I cooed. The things I did for Dawn.
The baby was wrinkled and red with its face screwed up. The bags under its eyes were worthy of a two-day bender. I nearly vomited at the usual disgusting baby smell of sour milk and sick. Those explained the white stains on the pink blanket. The smell of alcohol was probably the misguided mother cleaning the baby's cord with meths.
'She's lovely,' I said.
My first actual lie of the day, but it was a white lie. It's definitely not diplomatic to tell someone your honest opinion of their new grandchild.
'Thank you. She's such a good baby, slept all last night. And she's feeding so well. She gained a whole pound last week.'
I looked at Mary's chubby body and felt positively sorry for the child.
'How is your blood pressure these days?' I asked, doing my best to sound sympathetic.
'Still a bit high,' she said, 'my doctor says I will have to lose weight if I'm to see the baby grow up.'
Talk about leading a lamb, or should that be diplodocus, to the slaughter.
'You should come to Dawn's new class. It's great fun and good for you. And you'll lose weight without even trying. Come and give it a go for the sake of your lovely little granddaughter.'
Mary's eyes lit up at the thought of losing weight without trying.
'OK. Thanks for suggesting it.'
Mary walked on and I saw Sheila, the minister's wife, walking towards me. She had shoulder length mousy hair, permed into loose curls. Amazing she could find a hairdresser who still did perms. Her figure was curvy, although she was spreading out a bit as she got older. At over six feet she was one of the few women I'd met who could tower over me. She had been one of the two other people at the class the night before.
Time for a little honesty, I thought.
'Hi, Sheila. Can I ask you a favour?'
'Of course,' as always Sheila was the good little, ok not so little, minister's wife always ready to do anything to help.
'This new exercise class is important to Dawn. Since Donald left her, she's been struggling to stay her usual bouncy self. Not to mention she needs the money. Would you try to persuade the rest of the churchy ladies to come?'
Being a good Christian, she ignored my jibe at the women who spend all their time attending church events and classes.
'I enjoyed the class last night,' she said, 'and I'm happy to spread the word. I'll support Dawn any way I can.'
Sheila followed my gaze across the street where a half dozen of her churchy ladies were standing chatting to each other, patiently waiting for their leader to notice them.
'Don't worry about them,' said Sheila. 'I'll make sure they and the other ladies come along. They're my groupies and if I say they'll enjoy it, they will.'
It was the first time I'd heard Sheila say anything less than sweet and angelic. I was impressed and a little shocked. I also felt a bit sorry for Sheila because she had probably come on her own to the class to get a break from her fan club.
My job was done. Word would get around the scheme now and hopefully the next class would be much busier. It was time to go home and chill out in front of the television, kitten on lap while stuffing my face with cream doughnut.
#
The moment of truth had arrived. Time to go along to the community centre and see how many had turned up for Dawn's class.
I was stunned. I knew I was good, but the hall was already quite full and people were still arriving. That was the beauty of living in a Kilmarrick housing scheme. Once word got around, everyone wanted to join in.
Sheila and her entourage had arrived early. She insisted on introducing me to a few of her followers, even although I knew half of them already.
'This is Suzy. She's having a break from the church, but I'm hoping to persuad
e her back into the fold.'
Suzy glared at Sheila, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down. I didn't think Suzy was going to return to 'the fold' anytime soon. I'd seen her around the scheme. She was slim with short curly bleached blond hair. She didn't look like she should have any problems with the exercises, but then neither did I. And I was still suffering from the week before.
Janice, in her late thirties, was well overweight with straight greasy chin length brown hair and a face like a gurner. But she exuded such confidence in her own powers of attraction, it worked. She never seemed to be short of a man. She must have charms that weren't obvious to me.
Lorna was short, dumpy and looked exactly like a middle-aged housewife. In another time that's what she would have been but she had to work. She Suzy worked together at a local call centre.
The rest were chatting to each other and I managed to escape without having to be sociable to them.
Through a gap in the bodies I lowered my eyes to see Mary. It was obvious she had never been to an exercise class before. She wore a long-sleeved blouse, buttoned up to her throat and a white calf length skirt. She was going to struggle to exercise in that outfit.
Yvette was standing near the door, her Lycra pants and tight sleeveless vest showing off every bulge. She had a mix of natural brown hair with inexpertly applied blond streaks. She'd pulled it up onto the top of her head into one of those messy buns that some women seem to think attractive. Bits of hair hung down in what she probably thought were wisps, but were, in fact, more like straggly string.
She stood near the door watching everyone arrive.
If she saw a person she didn't recognise she would pounce on them, greeting them effusively. Welcoming them as though she was running the class.
Within seconds each poor soul would have told her who they were, where they lived, where they worked, what brand of toothpaste they used. Well, maybe not quite. Several looked uncomfortable at the inquisition and some walked straight back out. I'd always wondered why she was so keen on gathering gossip as she never seemed to pass on anything she found out.