by Ann Purser
“Look at that!” Douglas said. “Hey, Susie, wake up Harry so’s he can see it.”
“Not a good idea,” Lois said quickly. “You know how fractious he is when he’s woken up. Let’s all get out first, and then we can unload him straight into his pushchair and get going. That’ll take his attention and we won’t get the usual screams.”
Susie frowned. Sometimes she wished her mother-in-law wasn’t quite so ready with the voice of experience. Harry was hers and Douglas’s, and they were best at managing him. But she bit back a sharp rejoinder and heaved the pushchair out of the boot space. She saw Matthew Vickers approaching, and said, “Nice to see you. Always useful to have a policeman in the party.”
“Off duty, I’m afraid,” he said, and grinned at Josie. They all set off across the almost full car park towards the main entrance, and as they got closer, Lois began to feel oddly apprehensive. Inside the reception area children and parents and grannies and granddads milled about. She stood still to get her bearings and saw a snack café off to the side. Suggesting that they have a snack lunch before everyone else converged there, she led the way.
With only one cashier, it took a while to get settled, and Lois had a chance to look around. The low lighting in the wide reception area heightened the feeling she already had on glimpsing vast models of distant planets of being in an alien environment, and she was glad when they sat down with their trays in the sunlit café, though another near-panic hit her when she caught sight of what looked like large upturned buckets hanging down from high above the chattering families.
“Derek! Isn’t that where the great fire that launches the rockets comes from?” she said nervously. She realised they were now inside the silver balloon, and she could see that this housed two huge rockets stretching up above them. A sudden memory of the Challenger that crashed back to earth killing all inside, including a lovely young woman, jolted her.
“Yep, that’s what gets ’em up into space. Want me to put a match to them?” He laughed at her, and patted her shoulder. “We’re quite safe, gel,” he said.
Meanwhile Matthew and Josie seemed oblivious to anything but themselves, seated as they were at a cozy table for two. The others had grouped together, with a high chair for young Harry, and then made short work of sandwiches and coffee, anxious to get going.
As they filed through the paying booths, Lois suddenly saw ahead of them a man going through the turnstiles and was sure he was familiar. When he turned to talk to a woman she recognized as Kate Adstone, she was sure it was Gavin. Following them, and clearly part of their party, came a tall, portly man with thinning ginger hair and a boozer’s nose, bright red to match the rest of his complexion. Lois and the others were still waiting in the queue for tickets when the Adstones and friend disappeared from sight.
“Did you see him?” she said to Derek.
“Who?”
“Gavin Adstone. You know, from Farnden. On your SOS committee.”
Derek shook his head. “Nope. Still, it could’ve been him. We might bump into him as we go round. His toddler’s a bit young for this, I’d have thought.”
“Older than our Harry,” Lois replied.
“Get on, then,” Derek said. “You’re holding up the queue.”
“NO POINT IN OUR TRYING TO STAY TOGETHER,” DOUGLAS decided, as Susie said Harry needed a nappy change, and Matthew and Josie elected to start with the lift to the top of the rocket tower. “Let’s say we’ll all meet in the shop when we’ve seen everything. O’ course, I expect we’ll bump into each other going round,” he added, and Lois whispered to Derek that they might well get another look at Gavin Adstone and his funny-looking friend.
“Lois!” Derek said sternly. “Forget it! Why shouldn’t the man be here with a friend? Nothing suspicious, no ferretin’ needed! For God’s sake, woman, forget all that rubbish and enjoy a family day out.” He marched off towards the planets and disappeared from sight into space. She hurried after him, and found him staring incredulously at a row of Heinz baked bean tins.
A couple of schoolboys were also intrigued by this unexpected earthbound display of tins, and began to lift them up, one by one. Derek was now reading the text above, and turned to Lois. “Gravity, Lois,” he said authoritatively. “Shows you the different pulls of gravity on different planets. Have a go.”
“Try the sun,” the biggest boy said, grinning at the other.
Lois shrugged. Blimey, anybody could lift a baked bean tin. But when she tried, she couldn’t move it, and the boys chortled. Then she moved on to others, and felt distinctly different pulls, as if invisible hands of varying strengths were holding on, determined not to let her run away with the valuable exhibits.
“Does that mean if we landed on one of them with not much gravity we’d fall off into nowhere?” she asked the boys. She trusted them rather than Derek to know the answer. But they had turned away and were heading for the weather forecast.
“Oh, look, Derek,” Lois said. “Over there, where the boys have gone. That sort of cabin thing. Something to do with the weather satellite. See, there’s a television screen inside. Let’s go and look.”
A small group of people had gathered, and Lois saw with interest that Gavin’s party were amongst them. The two boys had gone into the booth, and were staring at the screen and giggling. Lois edged her way forwards so that she could see what was going on, and saw the bigger of the two boys pressing a button and a weather map coming up. Then text appeared on the screen and the boy began to read, looking alarmed but ploughing on, using his hand as a pointer to indicate locations on screen.
“He’s pretty good at it, Mrs. Meade,” said a voice behind her, and she turned to see Gavin Adstone looking down at her.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, including Kate and Cecilia in a warm smile. “We Meades are here in strength,” she added, as if Gavin had threatened her with abduction. Why did she feel so uneasy? “And is this another member of your family?” she asked him, seeing that he showed no signs of making an introduction to the ginger-haired man.
“Good God, no,” the man said. “No relation. Just good friends,” he added and laughed.
“This is Tim Froot,” Gavin said shortly. “A Tresham business associate.”
Froot obviously thought that sounded a little abrupt, and added that his building company head office was in Holland. “But I spend most of my time in Tresham,” he explained. “My Amsterdam office runs itself, and as there is much work to be done in the UK, I prefer to be here. Now, we had better be getting on,” he added to Gavin. “No peace for the wicked!” This last was directed at Lois, along with a knowing smile.
“Speaks very good English, for a Dutchman,” said Derek, and then in spite of Lois’s mocking laugh, he stepped inside the now vacant cabin and began pressing buttons.
MATTHEW AND JOSIE HAD FIRST GONE UP A FLIGHT OF STAIRS and on to a gallery, which led to the rocket lift. Halfway along, they stopped to stare at what they read to be an actual Soyuz spacecraft, found in a Russian car park. It looked used, secondhand, and Josie said she felt a bit sorry for it. “Looks a bit like it was made of Meccano,” she said sadly. “Got left behind.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “Cheer up,” he said. “Come on, let’s go. Space awaits us!” He was feeling a little light-headed, something to do with a combination of Josie’s hand in his, and the undeniable atmosphere of excitement that pervaded the whole place.
Fathers and sons were playing games based on magnetic attraction, and Josie said, “Why does that dad always win? He could lose for once. Give the boy a chance.”
Matthew looked at her seriously. “Any son of mine would probably win anyway,” he said. She was about to answer that it would depend on whose genes the child inherited, when her eye was caught by a familiar figure. “Hey, that’s that new bloke from Farnden,” she said. “Comes in the shop occasionally, and has his groceries delivered from Tesco.”
“Where? Who is it?”
“Him, over there.
Adstone, that’s his name. Gavin Adstone, with his wife, Kate. She’s all right, but he’s a real know-all. Treats us all like country bumpkins. He’s on Dad’s SOS committee, unluckily for Dad.”
“Not taken to him, then, Josie? I expect he’s harmless enough,” he said, and began explaining the function of a hoodlike piece of equipment apparently lined with gigantic shirt buttons.
SEVEN
AS THEY ALL MADE THEIR WAY TO THE CAR PARK, JOSIE announced that she would go back to Farnden with Matthew. They were both effusive in thanking Douglas for organising the outing, and Josie said she intended to give the centre some publicity by pinning details to the shop notice board.
“That’ll certainly up the attendance figures,” said Douglas with a straight face. “Mind how you go, Matt,” he added. “Won’t do for a policeman to be caught speeding!”
Matthew Vickers sighed. How many times had this been said to him? But he was a good-humored soul, and smiled dutifully. “Precious cargo,” he said. “I shall be extra careful.”
“Blimey, our Josie’s a precious cargo, is she?” muttered Derek to Lois. “Getting serious, d’you reckon?”
“Hope so,” said Lois. “Time Josie got wed.”
“Mum! I heard that,” Douglas said, as he started the engine. “Don’t push. Best way to put them off, that is.”
They turned out of the car park, and this time they took no wrong turnings but drove steadily down a mercifully quiet M1 motorway. Conversation consisted entirely of an exchange of views about the centre, what they had liked best, what they’d missed. The general consensus was that it was a great day out, and they’d certainly go again soon.
Harry’s head soon drooped, and he was asleep.
“Look, Doug,” Susie said, turning round from the front seat. “He’s smiling, bless him.”
“Probably dreaming of walking in space,” Douglas said.
They were silent for a while, and then Lois said, “Hey, Derek, isn’t that Gavin Adstone and family?”
A large black car with darkened windows sped past them. “Idiot driver going too fast to be sure. Must be doing at least a hundred,” said Derek.
“And with a child aboard! And if you don’t mind my mentioning it, Doug, you’re doing eighty yourself,” said Susie.
“Could you see two men?” persisted Lois.
“Give it a rest, Sherlock,” said Derek, and settling himself comfortably, he closed his eyes.
EIGHT
MONDAY MORNING, AND JOSIE STOOD AT THE SHOP WINDOW, looking up and down the street, wondering if any customers were likely to appear. She opened up every morning at eight o’clock, though she had to be on duty much earlier to take in and sort the post. This morning, apart from one or two early birds who came in for a newspaper, she had sold nothing.
It was half term, of course, and there wouldn’t be the usual kids who came in for unhealthy snacks before the school bus came along. In spite of their daily fix of chocolate bars and cans of sweet drinks, they all looked rosy-cheeked and healthy to her. The only one who was pale-faced and had a persistent cough was a girl from Blackberry Gardens whose parents were strict vegetarians. Josie hoped she was able to stuff herself with sausages at school dinners.
A woman came hurrying out of the house opposite. Josie retreated behind the counter, and saw it was Paula Hickson from across the road. “Morning!” she said. “Children all at home this week, I suppose?” She thought the woman looked even more harassed than usual, poor thing.
“Well, the twins and little Frankie are at home,” Paula said. “Only one missing is Jack Jr. Staying over with a friend in Tresham. Rang me this morning.”
“That’s nice,” Josie said. “He’s quite a big lad, your Jack. I expect he misses living in town with all his friends.”
Paula nodded. “I worry about him, though,” she said. “I’ve got no idea who his friends are, or where they live. If anything happened . . .” She trailed off, and took a packet of biscuits off the shelf. “Better get back,” she said. “I left the twins minding Frankie. Not legal, I know, but I can see the house from here.”
Josie handed over her change and frowned. “You can always give me a ring and I’ll pop over with whatever you need,” she said.
“Thanks,” Paula said. She started towards the door, then stopped and turned back. “You don’t know anybody wanting cleaning done, do you? I’ve got to get some extra money, what with Jack Sr. not contributing. He’s disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Josie said. “But how would you manage with the baby still so young?”
“I was told the local nursery would take him two days a week. I’d get help from Social Services for that. Then with the twins staying for dinner at school, I could do quite a few hours. Anyway, if you hear of anybody . . .” She looked anxiously at her house over the road and began to open the door.
“Just a minute,” Josie said quickly. “My mum might be able to help. She runs New Brooms, the cleaning business. Shall I ask her?”
Paula’s face cleared. “Could you? It’d be ever so good of you. I’m a good worker, you can tell her. Got references, an’ all. Paula Hickson’s the name. Better get back, an’ thanks.” She ran across the road and into her house. As she opened the door, Josie could hear screams, and hoped the twins hadn’t thumped the baby.
Were children really such a good idea? Josie was well aware she had a pleasant, well-organised life, devoted to her shop and able to manage her own time as she liked. Matthew was certainly more attentive than ever, and she had the feeling that any minute now the question might be popped. Well, perhaps it would be best to give Mum a ring about a job for Paula and let true love take its bumpy course.
LOIS WAS IN HER OFFICE WHEN JOSIE PHONED. GRAN HAD JUST brought her a cup of coffee, and she had settled down with her computer. New Brooms team would be meeting here at noon, and she had a morning’s work to do organising schedules and other admin that had piled up during the week.
“Hello, love. All well?”
“O’ course. Nothing earthshaking has happened since I saw you twelve hours ago. No, this is a business call. You know that woman who’s moved into Pickerings’ house? Mother with four children. Tearaway teenager, lively twins, newish baby. Needs money.”
“Yep,” said Lois, checking her emails while she listened. She knew what was coming, anyway. “So have I got a job for her?” she said.
“Exactly. So have you?”
“I’ll certainly have a talk to her. She seems a nice woman, with a lot on her plate. I’ll call and see her. I presume she’s worked out some free hours?”
“When can you go?”
“Tomorrow afternoon? Say about two o’clock. Will that suit?”
“Yep. I’ll slip across and tell her. It’s half term, so all the kids will be there. Still, could be a good thing. You’ll see the real Paula!”
Lois smiled as she went back to her computer. Soft-hearted Josie! Who would’ve thought when she was a troublesome teenager that she would turn out to be a good businesswoman with a heart of gold. She was a captive audience for villagers who wanted a listening ear, and always had some words of advice or comfort, even when she was dog tired. Still, Lois thought as she returned to the week’s cleaning schedules, it was good business sense to be a cheerful, sympathetic village shopkeeper. Few people had the nerve to come in just for a chat. They almost always bought something, and although most of the village did their big weekly shop in Tresham supermarkets, if Josie had a welcoming smile and the right kind of stock, she could just about survive.
On the dot of twelve, a knock at the door heralded Hazel Thornbull, office manager of New Brooms in Sebastapol Street, Tresham. “How’s the family?” Lois asked. Hazel had been with her a long time, and would be difficult to replace. Only one child so far, and no talk of another.
“Fine,” Hazel said. “Has Derek told you I’ve been co-opted on to his village hall committee? I must be mad. A poisoned chalice if ever there was one.”
“What d’you mean?” said Lois.
“Well, you know these village committees. Most of the time spent arguing and not much achieved. There’s already a split in the ranks, with that Gavin chap trying to take over. Still, your Derek is a match for him. I’ve always thought Derek was a mild man, but apparently not!”
“Tell me more about Gavin Adstone,” Lois said, but there was another knock, and then all the others came at once and settled down for the meeting.
After the usual business had been dealt with, and before they got up to leave, Lois said she had something else to discuss with them. “There’s this single mum in the village,” she said, and explained about Paula Hickson. “Anybody know anything about her?”
They shook their heads and Sheila Stratford, one of the original members of the team, asked where she came from. When Lois told her, she said she supposed she’d be one of those girls who get themselves pregnant to avoid having to work for a living. Lois explained that Paula Hickson had had a husband who had done a bunk, and that with four children she was still keen to earn some money for herself and not rely wholly on the state.
“Anyway,” Lois added, “I’m going to see her this afternoon, but I’d be glad if you would ask around and see if there’s anything I should know. Thanks a lot. I’ll keep in touch, as usual.”
They left chattering to each other, but Floss lagged behind. “Mrs. M,” she said. “Have you got a minute?”
Lois pointed to a chair, and said she always had time for the team.
“I don’t know if I should say this,” Floss began, “but I was talking to Kate Adstone. You know she’s got that little toddler, and seems a bit lonely. I asked her round for coffee, just to be friendly, and she was pathetically grateful!”