McQueen's Agency (19 page)

Nelly was trying to start a conversation with Gloria but Al kept butting in.

‘I’m a self-made business man and my shops in Dundee and Glasgow all have wonderful turnovers. I sell a lot of cheap furniture to families who live in the single-end rooms in the tenements of Hawkhill and the Gorbals and places like that, but I also like to cater for the better off customers who have the cash to buy quality.’

Nelly looked at Gloria. She had a wicked glint in her eye. ‘Do you work in the business along with your husband, Gloria?’

‘My husband …? Oh yes, I do,’ she said while Al glared at her.

‘Yes, she’s my partner in crime you might say.’ He laughed out loud at his own joke. ‘She keeps me right when a customer comes in. She’s able to tell me if it’s Utility stuff or old antiques they’re looking for. If it’s the Utility stuff I normally run a twenty-week hire purchase scheme. A wee deposit and six bob a week. But if they’ve got a bit of cash going begging then I show them my prestige stuff.’

‘What a great business man you are, Al,’ said Nelly. Lena gave her a sharp look.

Molly’s headache had come back and she realised she had only brought a couple of extra aspirin with her, which she had taken before the dinner started. She wished this evening was over so she could be on her way home and get to bed.

Al stood up, followed by Gloria who almost toppled over on her high heels.

‘Well folks, we’d better be off. We need our beauty sleep and all that.’ He threw a wink at Nelly who beamed visibly.

‘Of course you do,’ she said. Her voice all sweetness and light.

Lena and Joe saw them to their car and watched as it drove off. Lena looked terrible and obviously needed her bed as well. Back in the lounge, Betty and Ronald, and Don and Davina, who had been persuaded to stay for a coffee, finished their drinks and looked ready to go as well.

Nelly stood up. ‘Before you go, dear folks, we have an announcement to make.’ She looked coyly at Kenneth. ‘Kenneth and I want to announce our engagement.’

For a moment there was silence. The sort of silence that usually presages a storm. Lena’s face went quite pale and she dropped her drink. Molly watched as the crimson sherry spread all over the beautiful Persian carpet but it was Kenneth’s face she also noticed. He looked angry and not at all like a betrothed fiancé. Joe seemed to be quite amused by this statement and it suddenly struck Molly that he didn’t particularly like Nelly. But then Molly didn’t like her either.

Then Ronald spoke and shook Kenneth’s hand. ‘Congratulations, Kenneth.’ He went over and said the same to Nelly. ‘Have you set the wedding date yet?’

Nelly looked coy again. She was positively simpering. ‘No, not yet, Ronald, but it’ll be soon. We’ll let you and Betty know.’ She turned to look at the other couple. ‘And of course, Don and Davina, you’ll both be told as well.’

Molly sat transfixed in her chair. Kenneth gave her an agonised glance but Nelly had moved over and sat down next to him. She was showing off a gorgeous diamond ring and Molly could see from where she sat that it hadn’t come out of Al’s store for a wee deposit and six bob a week.

Then it was all over. The two couples drove off after making arrangements for the delivery of their goods and Molly went to put on her coat.

It was a lovely evening. The river shone like a silver ribbon under the moonlight and as she made her way to her car, she suddenly felt so weary. She struggled to open the door and she felt she could hardly keep her eyes open.

It was a horrendous journey. Molly’s eyes kept closing and she had to give herself a shake to keep awake. She had all the windows down but there was hardly any air. There must have been a shower earlier when they were all inside because the road was wet and there was the smell of damp vegetation.

The drive towards the road was creepy as usual and the trees seemed to lean down and touch the car, as if trying to grab it in their branches. Molly shook her head. What a vivid imagination she was getting. It must be all the drama of the night. She remembered Kenneth’s look. She was sure it had been a shock to him and that anguished glance he had thrown at her … What was that all about?

She drove for a mile and her mind started drifting. Suddenly a grassy back loomed up and she wrenched the wheel back onto the road. I must have dozed off, she thought and, to keep herself awake, she decided to sing ‘I Believe’.

Frankie Laine had nothing to worry about judging by the way she murdered the song but the singing did the trick. She was relieved when her house came into view.

Marigold’s light was still on but Molly decided she was too tired to see her tonight. She would have put Sabby inside the house so she would go and see her in the morning.

Sabby was sleeping in her basket in the kitchen but ignored Molly when she poured a glass of water. Her headache was now a dull throbbing at her temples but she decided not to take any more aspirin. They were making her feel so tired and she didn’t want to go over the stated dose.

Instead of hanging her clothes up in the wardrobe as usual, she let them fall to the floor and tumbled into bed.

Molly was drowning in a cold emerald green sea. She felt the strong currents tug at her feet and legs and her mouth was filled with the sharp tang of salt water. She tried to swim to the shore. She could see it through the waves that lashed her face. It was a dim black thumbprint on the horizon. Everything was dark and there were no stars. Just an image of land in the distance. There was a light shining, like an isolated house on a lonely island. A large wave caught her and pulled her down but she struggled to reach the surface again. A moon appeared from behind a threatening bank of clouds and the land seemed to be nearer. She was shocked to see Christie standing on the shingle beach. She called out to him, her voice drifting over the water. He saw her but didn’t move. She shouted out again and again until she was hoarse. The waves pulled her down and the last thing she saw was Christie walking away. Her ears popped and in the distance someone closed a door.

Suddenly she was awake. She felt awful and was soaked with sweat. The nightmare was still vivid in her mind and she shivered at the thought of it. She recalled the tang of salt water in her mouth and she was parched with thirst. She still felt groggy but needed some water.

Padding down to the kitchen, she drank the cold water like a dehydrated woman and wondered if Sabby might like some milk. The milk was kept in a little food safe in the back garden, in a spot away from any sunlight.

She opened the door and almost tripped over Sabby who came running in from outside.

Molly was so surprised until she realised that the cat must have got outside somehow. But all the windows were closed. Sabby made a loud noise and stalked off to her basket.

Then the truth hit her. Someone must have been in the house and the cat must have gone outside. The back door wasn’t locked so had Marigold come in? No, she wouldn’t have allowed Sabby to be outside.

Molly quickly locked the door and went into the lounge. Everything seemed to be normal although there was a faint smell. Molly couldn’t quite place it but maybe Marigold had been in the house earlier.

She was on the point of putting out the light when something caught her eye. She moved over to the writing bureau and there was a corner of a letter hanging out from one of the drawers. Molly was sure it hadn’t been like that when she came in for the aspirins because that was where the bottle was kept.

She tried to think if she had opened that drawer but was sure she hadn’t. She had lifted the flap and taken four aspirins out of the bottle then put it back. She gingerly pulled the flap down. The bottle was gone. Nothing of importance was kept in here except perhaps some bills and letters which were lying in a pile on the surface but when she moved them, the aspirins were underneath.

Now very alarmed, she ran around the house checking the windows and doors. The front door was locked and she had just secured the back door but all the windows were closed.

Moving to the back door, she reopened it and gazed outside. It was starting to become light and dawn was a golden streak in the east. The air felt fresh and there had been more rain during the night.

There was a stone step at the door but her father had made two little flowerbeds on each side of this step. To her horror, she saw a footprint on the wet earth. Maybe it’s Marigold’s, she thought. But she knew in her heart it wasn’t. Someone had been in the house. What Molly couldn’t understand, was why? Her parents had nothing much to steal. Then she remembered Christie.

He had waited for her yesterday afternoon and would have seen the back door. And he had been in her nightmare.

Why would a stranger, this Canadian, want to rummage through her house?

She was almost asleep on her feet so she made her way back to bed, but not before she pulled the small bolt at the foot of the kitchen door.

She would see Marigold later and maybe her neighbour would stay with her at night, in case the intruder came back.

Someone was knocking on the door and Molly could hear a voice calling. It was all part of her dream she thought. Then the knocking became more insistent and she woke with start and jumped out of bed.

Her head felt like a lump of cotton wool and she couldn’t remember what day of the week it was. She heard the voice as Marigold tried to unlock the door. Molly then remembered that earlier she had pushed the bolt at the bottom of the door. Marigold came into the kitchen with a bottle of milk in her hand and a parcel in the other.

‘I’ve come to feed Sabby,’ she said

‘What time is it?’

‘It’s half past eight. I wouldn’t have bothered you but I heard her crying at the window. Then I couldn’t get the door to open and I thought something was wrong.’

With the sun shining, Molly felt stupid about her fears the night before. She still felt woozy and slightly sick and hoped she wasn’t coming down with something. Being ill was the last thing she needed.

‘Come into the kitchen, Marigold, and I’ll make some tea and toast.’

Marigold fussed around Sabby who weaved in and out through her legs, making purring sounds while she filled her saucer with the milk.

Then Molly remembered she had been going to give her milk last night when she saw the footprint.

‘Marigold, you didn’t step on that patch of ground by the back door, did you?’

Marigold looked surprised. ‘I don’t think so, Molly. Is there something wrong?’

Molly shook her head. ‘No, it’s just that I saw someone’s footprint there and I was worried.’

Marigold went to the door and looked out. It was clear someone had stood on the patch but it could have happened at any time.

‘Maybe it was the postman. Oh I almost forgot, the postman must have left this packet yesterday. I expect it was too thick to go through the letterbox and he left it at the front door. I saw it at teatime and took it home but I thought you might be tired last night so I didn’t come over.’

Molly looked at the small brown parcel. It had a foreign stamp on it but the postmark was so blurred that it was difficult to see when or where it had been posted.

She opened it quickly. A small but quite thick diary lay in the folds of paper.

‘Oh it’s a five-year diary,’ said Marigold. ‘It must be from your parents as a present from Australia. Look it has a wee lock and key to keep all your secrets intact.’

‘There’s nothing with it to say it’s from them,’ said Molly, ‘but it must be because of the stamp. Can you see Australia on the stamp?’

Marigold took the paper and scrutinised it. ‘The postmark is covering it and it’s difficult to make out where it was posted.’

Then Molly thought, ‘It’ll be from Nell. She was always writing up her diary and telling me I should do the same. I bet she’s sent it.’

Marigold was looking at it in dismay. ‘The lock is broken and the key doesn’t work. It must have got damaged in the post.’

‘Well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t have any secrets to lock away.’

‘Oh I almost forgot,’ said Marigold. ‘And that is the reason I’m over so early on a Sunday morning. There was a policeman here to see you yesterday.’

Molly suddenly felt faint. ‘A policeman? What did he want?’

‘He didn’t say but I told him you normally go over to the office on a Sunday and he would be able to catch you there. I said around twelve o’clock.’ She stopped when she saw Molly’s white face. ‘I hope I did the right thing.’

Molly quickly recovered from the shock and said, ‘Yes you did, Marigold. I’ve got to go over to Dundee so I better be getting dressed.’

Marigold sat with her cup of tea as Molly rushed upstairs to get ready. Going to the office was the last thing she wanted to do today. She would have loved to stay in bed and have a long sleep.

Marigold was folding up the brown paper when she came downstairs.

Molly gathered her handbag and the diary and made sure everything was switched off. ‘I hope there isn’t another incident like last Saturday,’ she said.

‘What was that?’

‘Oh, a woman had her handbag stolen as she was getting off the ‘Fifie’. She nearly fell into the water. Poor woman, she had all her housekeeping money in the bag.’ Molly didn’t mention the old woman’s strange theory that she had been the intended victim.

Marigold said, ‘I read about that in the paper but some young girl found the bag at the Victoria Arch and handed it to a policeman. The money was seemingly still in her purse.’

Molly was puzzled. ‘Why would anyone steal a bag then not steal the money?’

Marigold shrugged. ‘It’s a funny world.’

‘Well I’d better be off as I’ve lots to do today. Did the policeman say anymore about what he wants?’

Marigold said no he hadn’t, but she added, ‘Maybe it’s because you were a witness to the robbery. He maybe thinks you saw the thief and can give a description.’

Molly was relieved. ‘Of course, that’s what it’s all about. Well he’s going to be disappointed because I didn’t see the thief. I only heard all the commotion.’

Molly waited at the pier for the ferry and she still felt ill. She was aching all over and the headache was still there. She hoped it wasn’t a summer cold or even worse, the ’flu.