cooking at a hot stove. “Well, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” she said to Jamie, “and I’m fed up with you,” she added, turning to Lois. “Who do you think you are? Miss Marple or something? Rushing about and stirring up trouble for the rest of us! Why can’t you stick with being a wife and mother, and running a successful cleaning business? What more do you want! It’d be good enough for most sensible women. It’s got to stop! Leave it to the police, Jamie.”
“Now, now, Gran,” Derek said soothingly. “Lois has done a lot of good with her ferretin’ in the past. And now this business does have a direct connection with our family. Akiko is Jamie’s friend and colleague. Of course we all want to help as best we can.”
“Huh! Well, you’ve soon changed your tune, Derek Meade!”
“Lois knows how I feel, Gran,” Derek said patiently. “And I think we should leave it there.”
“May I speak?” Jamie pushed his chair back roughly, and stood up. “Seems all this is my fault. So the best thing I can do is go back to London as soon as possible.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jamie! Of course it’s not your fault. And this is your home and where you should be.” Lois was about to expand on this when Jamie’s mobile rang. He rushed outside, and they could see him on the lawn, walking up and down and speaking animatedly.
“Was it Akiko?” Derek asked, when Jamie came back.
“No, Dad. Just a friend of mine, dammit.”
“Never mind, lad,” Derek said, and got up from the table. “She’ll turn up of her own accord, like as not. Now I must get on,” he said. “I know it’s no good asking you to stop ferretin’, Lois. Just be careful, me duck. That’s all.”
* * *
I N HIS OFFICE, C OWGILL TOOK A CALL. “ O UTSIDE A BLOCK OF flats where?” Someone was testing a police siren in the backyard, and he could hardly hear the voice.
“Speak up! Who is it?”
The young policeman seemed reluctant, but continued haltingly.
“Your superior told you to ring me?” said an exasperated Cowgill. “So where were you? Address? Go ahead then . . . Of course I know it! And you couldn’t catch a small, defenceless girl? Said she was Jacqueline Dupre? Dear God, give me patience. Speak to me later.”
He put down the phone, grabbed his jacket, and went to the lift. A notice on the doors informed him that the lift was out of order. He swore, and tackled the stairs two at a time, arriving at the bottom considerably out of breath.
“Leaving,” he said to the receptionist, and stepped out into blinding sunlight.
E LEVEN
“B ETTER HAVE A STOP SOON,” P ARSONS SAID. “ I NEED COFFEE to keep me awake, and you look peaky, Miss Akiko. And this old bus could do with a rest.” He had pulled into the car park of a motorway café and turned off the overheated engine.
They had driven through the night, with the old van in no danger of breaking the speed limit, and now they were more than halfway to Hightoun House. Akiko’s father had purchased a large mansion some years ago, partly for investment, but also for business entertaining and a retreat for himself and Akiko in Scotland.
He had adored her from the moment she was born. An elderly father, he had been glad that he had chosen a wife half his age. But then his plan had gone awry. She had contracted a virulent influenza bug and had died when Akiko was not quite two years old. Distraught, he had hired a loving nanny who had stayed with her charge until she left school and went to college.
Akiko had had plenty of time on the journey north to think about her father and try to understand why he had endeavoured to keep such a restricting rein on her, even though she was now an independent adult. She recalled how hard he had tried to dissuade her from moving to London, but she had protested that she needed to see more of other cello players and establish some useful contacts, and he had given way. As an extra precaution, he had
“Now, now, Gran,” Derek said soothingly. “Lois has done a lot of good with her ferretin’ in the past. And now this business does have a direct connection with our family. Akiko is Jamie’s friend and colleague. Of course we all want to help as best we can.”
“Huh! Well, you’ve soon changed your tune, Derek Meade!”
“Lois knows how I feel, Gran,” Derek said patiently. “And I think we should leave it there.”
“May I speak?” Jamie pushed his chair back roughly, and stood up. “Seems all this is my fault. So the best thing I can do is go back to London as soon as possible.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jamie! Of course it’s not your fault. And this is your home and where you should be.” Lois was about to expand on this when Jamie’s mobile rang. He rushed outside, and they could see him on the lawn, walking up and down and speaking animatedly.
“Was it Akiko?” Derek asked, when Jamie came back.
“No, Dad. Just a friend of mine, dammit.”
“Never mind, lad,” Derek said, and got up from the table. “She’ll turn up of her own accord, like as not. Now I must get on,” he said. “I know it’s no good asking you to stop ferretin’, Lois. Just be careful, me duck. That’s all.”
* * *
I N HIS OFFICE, C OWGILL TOOK A CALL. “ O UTSIDE A BLOCK OF flats where?” Someone was testing a police siren in the backyard, and he could hardly hear the voice.
“Speak up! Who is it?”
The young policeman seemed reluctant, but continued haltingly.
“Your superior told you to ring me?” said an exasperated Cowgill. “So where were you? Address? Go ahead then . . . Of course I know it! And you couldn’t catch a small, defenceless girl? Said she was Jacqueline Dupre? Dear God, give me patience. Speak to me later.”
He put down the phone, grabbed his jacket, and went to the lift. A notice on the doors informed him that the lift was out of order. He swore, and tackled the stairs two at a time, arriving at the bottom considerably out of breath.
“Leaving,” he said to the receptionist, and stepped out into blinding sunlight.
E LEVEN
“B ETTER HAVE A STOP SOON,” P ARSONS SAID. “ I NEED COFFEE to keep me awake, and you look peaky, Miss Akiko. And this old bus could do with a rest.” He had pulled into the car park of a motorway café and turned off the overheated engine.
They had driven through the night, with the old van in no danger of breaking the speed limit, and now they were more than halfway to Hightoun House. Akiko’s father had purchased a large mansion some years ago, partly for investment, but also for business entertaining and a retreat for himself and Akiko in Scotland.
He had adored her from the moment she was born. An elderly father, he had been glad that he had chosen a wife half his age. But then his plan had gone awry. She had contracted a virulent influenza bug and had died when Akiko was not quite two years old. Distraught, he had hired a loving nanny who had stayed with her charge until she left school and went to college.
Akiko had had plenty of time on the journey north to think about her father and try to understand why he had endeavoured to keep such a restricting rein on her, even though she was now an independent adult. She recalled how hard he had tried to dissuade her from moving to London, but she had protested that she needed to see more of other cello players and establish some useful contacts, and he had given way. As an extra precaution, he had
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