It was all sorted out. They parted without argument, and re-grouped eventually, after Dave had lost his way and almost ended up on the Forth Road Bridge, at a pub in North Queensferry which served food. It was an old building and the restaurant was spread over different areas which could once have been separate rooms. They found a table near a window.
As they sat down, Dave nudged Christopher.
‘Look at that,’ he said in a voice very slightly lower than his usual bellow. He pointed over to a secluded table in a dim corner, where Sean Fraser and Penelope Johnstone were deep in conversation.
‘Sssh,’ said Jemima reprovingly. ‘They’ll hear you.’
‘I was whispering!’ said Dave, reverting to the kind of sound level that could probably be heard at the other side of the Forth Bridge.
Amaryllis saw Penelope glance up and catch Christopher’s eye. He blushed and looked away.
‘She’s saying something to Sean,’ reported Dave.
‘Don’t look!’ muttered Christopher, studying the menu carefully.
'Have you forgotten what you like?' said Amaryllis helpfully. 'Or maybe your head's been turned by continental cuisine?'
'No, it hasn't,' he said with dignity. 'I'm thinking of trying a vegetarian dish.'
‘Just have the steak,' said Amaryllis. ‘You need the iron.'
‘No, I don't,' said Christopher. He stared even harder at the menu.
As usual, Jemima and Dave decided to share their food, which would result in Jemima having two mouthfuls and Dave eating the rest. They were all so set in their ways, thought Amaryllis. Why didn't they eat out somewhere different like this more often? It wouldn’t be out of the question to go into Edinburgh one day, have an early dinner and come back.
‘Smoked salmon and then the Portobello mushroom risotto,’ said Christopher suddenly and decisively to the waiter.
‘Look out,’ murmured Amaryllis. ‘They’re getting away.’
She nudged Christopher and wouldn’t stop nudging until he looked in the direction she was looking, and saw Sean Fraser helping Penelope into her coat. Amaryllis scraped back her chair, fumbled in her bag and produced a packet of cigarettes, then headed for the exit.
As she went outside she heard Dave saying accusingly to Christopher, 'She doesn't smoke, does she? What have you said to make her take it up?'
She smiled as she imagined the baffled expression that was undoubtedly spreading across his face at that moment. She had never actually smoked, but she usually carried a packet of cigarettes with her as a potential prop. Just outside the door, she took out a cigarette and pretended to struggle with a lighter she knew didn't work.
'Excuse me, you don't have a light, do you?' she said as the door opened again and someone came out. Then, quickly, 'Oh, hello Penelope - sorry, I didn't know it was you.'
'I didn't know you smoked, Amaryllis,' said Penelope, giving her a hard stare. Sean followed close behind her.
'Oh, no smoke without fire, you know,' Amaryllis muttered vaguely. She smiled at Sean. 'You haven't got a match, have you?'
'No, sorry.' He took Penelope's arm and seemed to be trying to hurry her away.
'I hope you're not leaving because of us,' said Amaryllis. 'Dave can be a bit loud if you're not used to him. And maybe you were hoping for a quiet meal together. Or are Dee and Dilly joining you?'
A strange expression crossed Penelope's face. Amaryllis couldn't tell whether it was suppressed horror or just irritation.
'Just two friends having a quiet meal,' said Sean smoothly. 'And minding their own business. It's always the best way, don't you think?'
They stalked off. Amaryllis stared after them. She was unwilling to take the broad hint he had given, and yet it would be almost impossible to follow them surreptitiously in a place the size of North Queensferry.
She shrugged and put away the cigarettes for another day.
'What on earth was the point of that?' said Christopher when she appeared back at the table.
'I'm not sure,' said Amaryllis. Perhaps she could end the evening by being enigmatic and tantalising Christopher. That was always fun.
Chapter 14 Labradors
Even as she glanced through the membership form, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. It might have been better to focus on other legitimate ways of staying in the country and not build up her hopes of finding a partner at the Happiness Club. She hadn’t even seen anyone remotely suitable, unless you counted Chief Inspector Smith, and it wasn’t at all clear that he had really entered into the spirit of it at the two events so far.
It was Sean who had talked her into it while they were trapped on Inchcolm the previous week for the whole afternoon and most of the evening. She suspected he had talked a few other people into it too; she had seen him going the rounds. Jemima and Dave had kept him talking for a while, but Maisie Sue didn’t really understand their interest in the club. It was unfair of them to join if they weren’t looking for new partners.
She was baffled by some of the questions, but presumably the answers were part of the information that was going to be put into the computer program that matched people up. Sean had boasted that it would compare her details with those of people from Limekilns to Leeds, and from Torryburn to Tipperary. She wasn’t sure that Tipperary was in the UK so it wouldn’t be much help in the visa department to meet some man from there.
‘What’s your favourite colour? Favourite flower or plant? Favourite animal?’
After some thought she put down ‘Blue’, ‘Rose’ and ‘Labrador’. Then she scored out ‘Labrador’ and put ‘Dog’. Then she thought that looked too simple and stark, so she wrote in ‘Labrador’ again. The form started to look a little messy, which wasn’t the impression she wanted to give, but she wasn’t sure if Sean would give her another copy and in any case there was something about him that made her hesitate to ask. She paused for a moment to work out what it was. Maybe you could call him ‘creepy.’
Or was that a word that only teenagers used when talking about teachers at high school?
Maisie Sue found she had written ‘creepy’ on the form in reply to the question about her hair colour. Funniest thing, because the hairdresser had called it 'frappuccino summer.' She wondered if anyone else she knew was having this kind of trouble. Maybe they could compare notes. She crossed out 'creepy' and wrote 'dusky blonde', thinking that the computer might not have access to quite as many hair colours as the stylist did.
When she had finally filled in the final answer on page ten at about four o'clock in the afternoon, she found she didn't want to look at the form any more. She would take it straight over to the Happiness Club and then not think about it until the queue of gentlemen callers started to form on her doorstep
She was still smiling to herself at the idea of this as she left the house and turned down towards the High Street. Then she was startled by a car backfiring and began to worry. Wasn't this the kind of thing Amaryllis and Christopher would find funny? Had she been spending too long in their company? Maybe the Happiness Club would change all that, she told herself.
There was a 'closed' sign on the door. Even if they were still recovering from the bowling night, you would think Sean, Dee and Dilly would be up and about at this time of day, working at building up their business. After all, it was only by working hard that people could ever get on in life. Sometimes Maisie Sue wondered if anyone in this country understood that. She hoped the Frasers hadn't been put off by some of the bad things that had happened. There was the explosion on the boat, for instance, though nobody could possibly blame that on them. If it was anyone's fault, it was surely Jock McLean's, with his careless disregard for health and safety. But then maybe a few days in hospital would teach him a lesson.
She gave the door a little push, and it opened under her hand. She tiptoed in, realised she should really make a bit of noise to try and attract someone's attention, and called, 'Hi there! Anyone home?'
It was a silly thing to say, she told herself,
because this wasn't anyone's home, but she couldn't think of anything else.
She walked across the room. It had a slightly neglected air, as if Dee and Dilly weren't doing their housekeeping very well. She eyed the door in the middle of the wall beyond the service counter. There could be someone in back, working on the accounts or operating a computer. It was impossible to resist. She walked over and opened the door, calling again, 'Anyone home? It's only me! Maisie Sue MacPherson!'
She didn't want to call out anything more, because if nobody was listening it wasn't worth it, and if anyone was listening then she would catch up with them later.
She was in a small lobby. There was another door facing her which looked as if it could lead to the outside world, and a door at each side. Perhaps one of these was the way to the office. As she stood there, she heard a kind of scuffle from behind the left-hand door. Mice? Rats? She wasn't sure what other kind of wildlife might be around. Certainly not raccoons or skunks, anyway. One of the things she most appreciated about Scotland was the absence of those particular vermin.
She crossed to the back door and tried that first. It opened on to a yard where there was a cream Porsche, a couple of the dinky white vans of the kind she knew everyone here complained about, and a tiny - by American standards - motor caravan. She had hoped Dee or Dilly would at least have been around, putting rubbish in one of the dumpsters or something.
The right-hand door turned out to lead to a sort of second lobby, from which opened a broom cupboard and a small toilet. Maisie Sue was pleased with her decision not to sample the facilities during the speed-dating event. She resolved to tell Dee and Dilly to sharpen up their act before the barn dance she had been trying to persuade them to hold.
At last she tried the other door. She had been reluctant to open it because of a couple of embarrassing possibilities: one was that someone didn't want to be disturbed generally or by her in particular, and another was that she might be caught in the act of prying by Sean or his sisters. But maybe she could just leave her form on the desk and go. She would have achieved her objective if she did that.
The door swung open. She peeped in before crossing the threshold. It was almost empty of furniture, although there was a big desk across one corner blocking access to another door which might either lead to a cupboard or even back into the main room. That's kind of silly, reflected Maisie Sue, but it wasn't up to her to plan other people's interior décor. She was surprised not to see a computer on the desk. Maybe Sean kept it elsewhere for security reasons. He certainly didn't bother too much about security in here. Anyone could just walk in, she thought indignantly. She wondered whether it was a good idea to leave her Happiness Club form on the desk, but she was by now so determined to get rid of it that she threw caution to the winds, placed it right in the middle of the desk on top of a pile of odds and ends, and scuttled out of the room again before she could change her mind.
She did start to change her mind halfway home but it was too late by then. If Sean had already returned and found the form, she didn't want to be seen to be indecisive by going back to retrieve it, and if he hadn't, well, there was no point.
A short distance from home she was almost knocked over by Penelope Johnstone, who hurried past as if something big and ferocious was chasing her. Penelope was a well-built woman whom Maisie Sue had always thought could stand to lose a few pounds here and there, and what with the weight of clothes she tended to wear at all seasons of the year, being almost knocked over by her was rather a scary experience.
Maisie Sue turned to watch as she bowled down the road. It looked almost as if she was headed for - no, she had turned off just before the Happiness Club. But had she gone down the alleyway at the side, the one Maisie Sue had been reluctant to go down? Or wasn't it as far along as that? It was hard to tell at this distance, and Maisie Sue wasn't about to go back and have another look. No, she would leave Penelope to her own devices. She could always drop the form on the desk just as Maisie Sue had done.
Just before Maisie Sue arrived home, the cream Porsche swept past and headed towards Limekilns and the coast road. Was it the same cream Porsche she had seen out back at the Happiness Club? There couldn't be many cars like that in Pitkirtly. Pearson would have liked it.
Pearson wouldn't see many cars like that in Gdansk, and it would serve him right!
Feeling militant, she poured herself a tumbler of Pearson's favourite cognac and drank it down in one go. It was so good she had to have another glass half an hour later.
That was why, when the police arrived at around seven she was in the kitchen singing 'The Streets of Laredo' at the top of her voice and making popcorn. The sound of the door-bell joined in like another voice, and for a moment she didn't recognise it for what it was. When she did, her heart suddenly pounded. She knew Amaryllis didn't ring bells to announce herself but just materialised in people's houses like an often malevolent spirit. She didn't have many friends in Pitkirtly since the great schism of the quilting group. Unless it was someone from Cosy Clicks? Of course! It must be Penelope, whom she had already seen not far away. And she was here to apologise for rudely pushing past Maisie Sue earlier.
She hurried to the door, seeing two shapes behind the glass panel, which puzzled her a little - Penelope and Zak? -and opened it. Two police officers stood there. Neither of them was Inspector Smith.
Her mind darted towards deportation. But surely it was too soon for things to have reached this stage? Unless they had found out something about her that necessitated immediate removal from the UK - what could it be? Her proximity to the explosion on the island? Her involvement in Cosy Clicks? Her friendship with Amaryllis?
She started to close the door, with some thought of escaping through a window, but one of them stepped forward and blocked the move.
'Mrs MacPherson? Can we come in?'
'I'm sorry,' she said, and held the door open again after all. 'I - thought you were somebody else.'
She knew they wouldn't believe this for a moment, but she was fresh out of plausible reasons for wanting to close the door in their faces.
As she showed them into the living-room, a series of little bangs came from the direction of the kitchen.
The corn had popped.
'What's that?' said one of the officers.
'Oh, just my popcorn,' she said wearily. 'I guess I'd better do something with it. Would you kindly excuse me for one moment?'
Instead of waiting conveniently in the living-room, the officers trooped into the kitchen with her and surveyed the scene: cluttered worktops and open bottle of brandy; smell of burning because the popcorn had been left just a few seconds too long. It was a wonder, thought Maisie Sue grimly as the smoke alarm went off, that they didn't arrest her for crimes against cuisine.
At last she thought it was safe to leave the kitchen, and they went back to the living-room. She offered them coffee, but, not surprisingly after they had seen the kitchen, they declined it. She sensed they were impatient to get on with whatever they had come for anyway.
'I'm Inspector Forrester and this is Sergeant Whitefield,' said the male officer. 'Do you know a Mr Sean Fraser?'
Maisie Sue sighed with relief. It wasn't deportation after all, or at least not yet. But what had Sean done?
'Yes, I guess I do,' she said cautiously.
'You were seen this afternoon entering the premises currently occupied by the Happiness Club, and we have found some forms that appear to have been completed by you. Is this the case?'
'Oh dear,' said Maisie Sue. 'I did go into the building but I didn't mean any harm by it. I just left my forms right on the desk so that Sean would see them when he got back.'
'When he got back?' said Inspector Forrester. 'He wasn't there, then?'
'Nobody was there,' said Maisie Sue firmly. 'I don't know who saw me go in, but they'd tell you I was only in the place for a few minutes. I looked in all the rooms and I opened the door to the yard and looked out, but I didn't see anybody.'
'Not in the yard either?' said the inspector. Sergeant Whitefield was taking notes in a little book. She didn't look up at Maisie Sue.
'No - there were some cars around but I didn't see anybody.'
'So you left the forms in the office?'
'Yes, that's what I said. On the desk. Right on top of the other stuff that was there. It was quite cluttered - I was surprised at that. And I thought he would have a computer right there. I guess he has other premises elsewhere.'
'Cluttered. Mmm.' The inspector seemed to find that interesting for some reason.
He got to his feet abruptly.
'Do you have a gun, Mrs MacPherson?'
'A gun?' The question was so unexpected that she almost laughed. 'I don't think I have a gun.'
'You don't think so? You don't know if you've got a gun or not?'
‘My husband. Pearson. He had a gun. I guess he took it with him when he went off to Gdansk.’
‘Gdansk?’ said Inspector Forrester, giving her an odd look. ‘Do you have any proof of his present whereabouts?’
‘I can’t really say,’ said Maisie Sue, slightly taken aback. How had Pearson sneaked into this conversation?
‘And when are you expecting him back?’ asked the inspector.
‘Not at all,’ said Maisie Sue.
‘Not at all?’
‘He’s not coming back,’ said Maisie Sue. ‘Not to me, anyway. He’s gone for good.’
There was an awkward pause. Sergeant Whitefield scribbled.
‘So – you don’t think he left his gun here?’ said Inspector Forrester.
‘It isn’t very likely,’ said Maisie Sue. ‘He has it for work, you see.’
‘For work?’ The police officers exchanged glances. She could almost hear them speculating about what kind of work Pearson did. She wasn’t inclined to make it easy for them to find out, although she was sure they could get hold of the information quickly enough if they wanted. There must be some sort of a database.
‘Did you come straight back here after leaving the form on the desk?’ said the inspector, switching tack.
4 Death at the Happiness Club Page 9