Come to Harm Read Online Free PDF Page A

it.”
    â€œWho is Viola?” said Keiko.
    â€œOh yeah right, my kid,” said Fancy. “My daughter, you know.”
    â€œI see,” said Keiko, then frowned. “But all those feathers and pink fur …”
    â€œYeah, see no, that was the nuns. The nuns were mad keen on sewing. We kept telling them that word-processing or spreadsheets or that would be tons more handy, but basically they had loads of sewing machines and they didn’t have no computers, so there it was. Anyway, it all started from people maybe bringing in stuff for dry-cleaning with like a button off or something. Or they might be getting stuff cleaned to pack it away because it didn’t fit anymore. And I would go, ‘Well, I could alter it instead.’ And so I was slogging away one night and it hit me! Fancy dress costumes!”
    â€œOf course!”
    â€œBecause you don’t need expensive fabrics—you don’t really want them to last, because of getting beer and that all over. You just knock them together and then chuck them when they get disgusting. So, six months and a few gorilla suits later and I’d paid back the startup loan. And then the novelty cakes thing grew out of the party costumes, really. And because Pet’s a florist so she can always steer them my way.”
    â€œThat sounds very sensible,” said Keiko. “Who is Pet?”
    â€œPetula McMaster,” said Fancy. “My foster mum. So all I want now is a name that says cake, cleaning, and fancy dress. Everybody’s got their own printer-scanners now so I’m only keeping that going till these machines peg out. And I’ve stopped the pet food, because pet food and cakes together was never going to be big. Craig McKendrick came up with ‘Fancy That,’ which is okay, but I don’t know.”
    â€œMcKendrick!” said Keiko, latching on to a familiar name like a drowning man to a buoy. “And Fancy is a nickname?”
    â€œNo, it’s short for Frances, but yeah, kind of. And anyway I should wait till I see what ends up being the main thing, because the aromatherapy might take over completely. So long as I can …”
    â€œWhat is it?” said Keiko. Fancy had taken a deep breath and was letting it go slowly. “Are you all right?”
    â€œGod, I hope so,” said Fancy. “I’ve spent a fortune on it, so I’d better be.” She selected another grape, put it between pursed her lips and held it there for a second before sucking it in with a pop. “Anyway, didn’t mean to go on. Only I don’t often get the chance for a good old goss.”
    â€œYou are surely very busy with your business and your daughter,” said Keiko.
    â€œWell yeah, there’s that, but I’m not exactly in demand for tea and cakes. But I’m not saying anything. You’ll make up your own mind.”
    Keiko thought of Mr. McKendrick and wondered if that was all that lay behind it: a single parent, a fostered child. “It was lovely to listen to you,” she said. “You have a most easy to understand voice.”
    â€œThat’s cos I’m English, instead of Scottish,” said Fancy. “From Bedfordshire. Near London, you know? I came when I was nine.”
    â€œTo your foster mother,” said Keiko.
    â€œThat’s it,” said Fancy, giving Keiko a square look.
    â€œWho must be wonderful if you stayed here, so far from home.”
    â€œWell, I came back is more like it,” said Fancy. “Landed on her doorstep with a baby and all my stuff in black bin bags.” Fancy bit her lip. “I talk too much,” she said. “Talked your bloody ear off, haven’t I?”
    â€œNo,” Keiko said. “You are very kind.”
    â€œYeah, I’m some kind of angel, me,” Fancy said.
    â€œI mean it,” said Keiko wondering what was wrong suddenly. “I need one person in this town I can