Paws for Alarm by Marian Babson Page B

we really – what do you say? – blotted our copybooks with her, all right.’
    â€˜Never mind.’ Hazel laughed lightly. ‘She’ll get over it. I’m sure you’ll find she grows friendlier as the hedge grows out again.’
    â€˜We won’t be here that long.’
    â€˜At least, she’s on speaking terms again.’ Hazel seemed determined to be a little ray of sunshine. ‘That’s something.’
    â€˜Sure.’ Lania rallied round in an emergency, and undoubtedly she’d let us know if the house was on fire. But she wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for in the way of neighbours when I left home. I was really missing the friends I’d left behind. Even Celia was beginning to seem like a bosom buddy compared to Lania.
    â€˜Anyway, about the day trip. We planned it and booked the coach ages ago, but there are still a few places left. If you’re interested, we could fit you in easily. I think you’d enjoy it.’
    â€˜Enjoy what?’ I was still suspicious. Even Hazel’s friendliness might have an ulterior motive. The image of those arms around Arnold, having recurred to me, would not fade. It led to a bemused wonder as to just how she had said goodnight to John Blake the night he met his death. Had she given him something to think about that night? So much that he was distracted and not paying attention to his driving when that other driver had come at him? Rosemary had blamed Hazel for his death – was she righter than she knew?
    â€˜France —’ The magic word drove everything else out of my mind. ‘Boulogne. Shopping. We do it four or five times a year. The coach takes us straight to the supermarket and we pick up our duty-frees and shopping and don’t have to worry about carrying it. After that, we have lunch and explore the shops in the centre of town, then catch the last ferry home and are delivered straight to our doors. It makes a nice day’s outing.’
    â€˜Day? You mean you can do it in a day? Go to France?’ I was aware that my voice had risen to a squeak. Arnold and the kids looked at me expectantly.
    â€œThe bus will leave here at eight in the morning, it’s less than an hour’s drive to the coast, the crossing is about seventy-five minutes on the ferry. The coach will take us straight to the supermarket, wait until we’ve done our shopping, then drive us into town and leave us. We’ll make our own way to the ferry at the end of the day – the dock is right across from the main shopping area — and the bus will be on board waiting for us. It couldn’t be easier.’
    â€˜You’ve just picked up four more passengers.’ Arnold was nodding enthusiastic agreement. ‘When do we go?’
    â€˜Wednesday. It’s a market day in Boulogne, so we’ll leaflet, ‘a man would sail his own boat across the Channel, load up with booze and tobacco –’
    â€˜You haven’t got a boat and you don’t know how to sail.’
    â€˜Smuggling – that’s the only way to beat them!’ Arnold’s eyes narrowed. He struck a stance and declaimed: ‘ Four-and-twenty ponies, trotting through the dark – ’
    â€˜That reminds me,’ I said. ‘Brandy is even more expensive than rum – the best brandy.’
    â€˜Ah-ha!’ Arnold swung his attention to the twins. They cringed under his sudden calculating scrutiny. ‘And they fitted up their cohorts with body-belts for gold, hollow-heeled shoes, coats with secret pockets –’
    â€˜I gotta go look for Esmond,’ Donald said uncomfortably. ‘I haven’t seen him all day. Maybe he’s in trouble.’ He began hobbling off.
    Hobbling ? ‘Wait a minute,’ I said. ‘Come back here. What’s the matter with you?’
    â€˜Nothing – honest.’ He paused in the doorway, shaking his head. ‘I’m okay,