Fear on Friday Read Online Free PDF Page B

Well, we’ll see just how happily Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth co-operate when they gel the Council’s decision!
    Secure in the knowledge that his report and recommendations were all-powerful, he left the house and immediately dismissed the Forsyths from his mind. He remembered the village shop, and pulled up in the forlorn hope that it would offer something suitable for his wife.
    N OTHING IN L ONG F ARNDEN WENT UNOBSERVED . J OSIE had seen Mr. Collins’s car arrive outside the Forsyths as she cycled back from delivering. Now he had parked outside the shop and was coming up the steps. A strange car. Who was he, then? And what did he want with the Forsyths? These thoughts were routine in the village. Everybody had them, and the answers fed the network of information that kept the gossips going.
    “Morning! Can I help you?” Josie was always cheerful.
    Blimey, thought Lois, coming in behind Mr. Collins. Can this really be our Josie, the sulky teenager who caused us so much trouble? She waited discreetly until he had wandered round the shelves, not seeming to know what he was looking for.
    “I don’t suppose you have any … er … any special chocolates, flowers, or …”
    “A present?” said Josie. “For your wife?” Oops, she thought. Is that a step too far?
    But the man nodded. “In the doghouse,” he said, with the trace of a smile.
    “Right,” said Josie briskly. “You’re in luck. I can just hear the flower van out the back, so there’ll be fresh flowers. And over here …” She walked across the shop to shelves in the corner. “Over here we have our Swiss chocolates. We put them away from the window. First mistake I made,” she added chattily. “I put some new stock on the front shelves so’s people would see them, and the afternoon sun melted the lot.”
    When Mr. Collins had paid and was about to leave looking infinitely more cheerful than when he came in, Josie asked lightly, “Are you a stranger round here? Need any directions?”
    Mr. Collins gave a gravelly laugh and shook his head. “No, I’m from Tresham. Been to see about plans for an extension.” It was said with a purpose. You never knew what useful information would result from a word in the right place.
    “Oh, you mean the Forsyths,” said Josie cheerfully. “Yeah, we know about that. Looks quite a good idea, for him and his letters! Needs a new building to house that lot!”
    “Letters?” said Mr. Collins, his nose twitching like a rat’s. Was this a business Rupert Forsyth was intending to conduct from his home? If so, there would be regulations to consider. Regulations were meat and drink to Mr. Collins.
    “Oh, just a joke,” said Josie hastily, seeing exactly which way the wind was blowing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see to the flower man. You had the pick of the lot! I hope your wife’s pleased. Have a nice day.” And she disappeared from Mr. Collins’s prying eyes.
    He reluctantly left the shop and climbed into his car, but did not start the engine straight away. Letters, eh? Maybe he should go back and have another word with theForsyths, just to make sure. Then he looked at his watch. Oh Lord, he’d only just get back in time to take his wife out to lunch. He couldn’t risk two scenes in one day. There’d be time later to see the Forsyths, he decided, and drove off towards Tresham and humble pie.

E IGHT

    B ILL ‘ S CAR CRUNCHED SLOWLY UP THE CURVING DRIVE to the Jenkinsons’ house, and parked round the back, as instructed. He looked at his watch. Nine o’clock on the dot. Mrs. M was very particular about punctuality, and he got out and walked swiftly to the back door.
    “Good morning, Mrs. Jenkinson,” he said cheerfully. “Lovely morning.”
    Doreen looked at him suspiciously. “Are you from New Brooms?” she said.
    “Yes, that’s me, Bill Stockbridge. How d’you do.” He extended his hand and shook her reluctant one.
    “I wasn’t expecting …” Her voice tailed off.
    “Weren’t