The Birthday Present by Pamela Oldfield

deserted her momentarily. ‘Bernard? I’m sure he didn’t.’
    Marcus shrugged. ‘To get back to what we were talking about – Marie’s request that she should spend time with Mother. Of course we must make that possible and if Rose would come with us that would solve the problem. If Rose agrees, that is.’
    Letitia thought rapidly. ‘It would have to be a holiday for her. We don’t want to pay her anything.’
    ‘On the contrary, we would have to pay her as a travelling companion because she has work of her own as a singer and would be forced to miss it. She can’t exist on fresh air.’
    Letitia regarded her brother with something akin to loathing. Why did he have to spoil her morning? She had been feeling very cheerful with life and had been looking forward to making her invitation list and then Marcus had to blunder in and ruin everything. The way he always did when they were children, she thought.
    ‘By work you mean ironing and singing in seedy halls. Well, she won’t need much compensation for losing that!’
    Marcus flushed angrily. ‘I think what you mean is – “I hope she will agree to go with Marie and I shall be grateful that I don’t have to make the journey”! That would be a generous reply in the circumstances but then generosity was never your strong point, was it!’
    They glared angrily at each other and Letitia flirted with the idea of crossing her brother off the list but that would look odd and she didn’t want the da Silvas to think she was at odds with members of her family. She swallowed hard and her anger turned to anxiety. What had Bernard said about liking Rose, she wondered uneasily. She desperately wanted to know but would die rather than ask Marcus.
    He broke the long silence. ‘Then I’ll go in search of her and ask her if she’ll do it for us. I also want to know what happened at her interview with that Markham chap. Steven seemed to think he was a reasonable man but I’m not so sure.’
    ‘She’s not exactly a shrinking violet, Marcus. I’m sure she can look after herself without you trailing after her. She’s chosen a tough profession so she’ll have to take the rough with the smooth. Let me know what she says.’ She turned back to her lists, trying to hide the fact that the conversation had upset her.
    He hesitated for a moment as if he was about to add something but she glanced up from beneath the brim of her straw hat and said, ‘You still here?’

Four
    PC Arnold Wicker smiled at the young woman on the other side of the front desk. ‘And what can we do for you, miss?’ he asked, smiling. ‘Cat stuck up a tree, is it? Little brother got his head stuck in some railings?’ He fancied himself as a bit of a wag. His mother always laughed at his jokes and so did Doris, his young lady.
    This particular young lady did not even smile. She said ‘Hilarious! I need to speak to someone a little more senior. Is PC Stump around by any chance?’
    ‘’Fraid not.’ She was looking a bit stern but she was still pretty. Blonde curls were a weakness of his. ‘Will I do, miss? Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll see if I can help.’
    ‘I’d rather speak to PC Stump.’
    ‘He’s still on leave. His wife died. Did you know? Poor blighter. Knock you sideways, something like that. Funeral’s Friday.’
    ‘I’ll talk to someone else then. It’s about my father, Alan Paton. My neighbour says he’s been arrested. I’m Rose Paton and I want to  . . . to make a complaint of wrongful arrest. It’s got to be a mistake. I need to talk to him.’
    His eyes widened. Of course. They had found stolen goods stashed away in his house earlier in the day and they’d caught him red-handed, so to speak. Some mistake! ‘They found the stolen property, miss. Tipped off by his partner in crime. We’ve got them both under lock and key.’
    That took her back a bit. He saw the doubt written clear as day on her face. Nice eyes. Shame about the father.
    She pulled herself together.