Lois Meade 14 - Suspicion at Seven by Ann Purser Page A

loved especially the ones from Dot, which always had a humorous story or two to raise a smile.
    Only one client was not yet signed up, and this was over at Fletching. Lois had been to call on the woman, who had grilled her thoroughly. After this, with no offers of cups of tea or general chat, Lois had left, convinced that this one was a no-go. But then yesterday there had been a message left for her, asking for another visit. Lois had begun to believe the woman was planning to set up a rival business, having learned all the details from New Brooms. It was a possibility.
    She picked up the phone and dialled the Fletching number.
    “Good morning, this is New Brooms. Lois Meade speaking. You left a message for me?”
    The woman sounded much more friendly, and said she had decided to go ahead, and could Lois call in and they would discuss starting dates, et cetera.
    Looking at the cleaning schedules, there seemed to be a spot for Floss to have time free. Mrs. Tolervey-Jones, unofficial assistant to Lois, and at present recovering from a serious illness, had insisted on retaining Floss as her New Brooms cleaner after she had moved from Farnden Hall to the Stone House in the village, but her hours had been cut. Mrs. T-J—as she was known by the cleaning girls—and Floss had always been a sympathetic pair, and Floss, keen on riding, regularly exercised the old mare that Mrs. T-J could not bear to sell. It lived a contented life in a small stable and coach house, disused for many years, that she had spruced up at the bottom of her garden.
    Lois picked up her phone again, and dialled Floss. “Morning, all well?”
    “Fine, thanks. About to go home. I’ve finished Mrs. T-J. Can I help?”
    “Could you call in? I have another client for you. That is, if you can fit her in. I see you have Friday morning free at the moment. You can? Good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, and we’ll go over to Fletching. I will introduce you, explain what’s to be done, and then you can start next week. Okay?”
    *   *   *
    As Lois worked through the last of the reports, Gran stuck her head round the door and said she was going down to the shop, and then on to see Joan. Back in time to get lunch. Lois watched from her window as her mother walked briskly down the drive and disappeared. She’s certainly got a spring in her step this morning, thought Lois. Ah well, Aurora had promised she would let her know what Gran and Joan were up to.
    After she had tidied up her office, she set off upstairs to collect some washing and make sure Derek had not forgotten to change his vest. As she passed her mother’s bedroom, she saw the door was open and a strong wind had got up and was blowing the curtains about. She walked in, closed the window, and was about to leave when she saw the wardrobe door was not quite shut and a large bag had been stuffed inside.
    “What the hell is that?” she said aloud, and pulled the bag out so that she could push it in more tidily and shut the door. It was a strong canvas bag with a logo of a chrysanthemum flower entwining through a capital letter B. With great strength of character, knowing how furious her mother would be if she opened it, she returned it to its place in the wardrobe and shut the door.
    The logo haunted her until Gran returned, and then, as Derek asked over his pudding if Lois knew how Aurora was doing, she knew what it was. Brigham Luxury Jewellery. So Elsie and Joan had got as far as a starter pack! And that would have been bought and paid for.
    “Oh, all right, I think,” she answered Derek. “Back in harness. With the bakery, anyway. I expect she has a lot of thinking to do before she can restart the jewellery business. What do you think, Mum?”
    Gran went pink, cleared her throat and said there was more pudding if anyone wanted seconds.

T WENTY- S IX

    F loss was already parked outside Briar House when Lois arrived next morning. Lois beckoned to her to come and sit with her for a few minutes,