Freeing Grace Read Online Free PDF

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    She grabbed four bottles of red, more or less at random, and one of gin. The gin was expensive, but David’s father lived for the stuff. She wouldn’t be drinking any of this herself, though. Not tonight. Maybe not for a long time.
    Resting her wire basket on the counter, she smiled at Dora Davies, behind the till. ‘’Evening, Dora.’ She tried to sound friendly but brisk, a woman with no time to chat. Leila had been on her feet all day; she’d dispensed about two hundred prescriptions, meticulously checking each one for interactions and errors in the knowledge that a single mistake could prove fatal. She’d managed anxious customers—some tearful, some aggressive—and shopfloor politics. Finally she’d raced off, nipping into the off-licence on the way home for some last-minute shopping.
    ‘’Evening, Mrs Edmunds.’ Dora wasn’t about to let such a prize slip through her grasp. She began, with agonising care, to wrap each bottle in brown paper. Leila watched helplessly. What the hell was the point of that ? She glanced at the clock behind Dora’s head. Already after six o’clock, and they were coming at seven-thirty. Please, please hurry up, Dora.
    The shopkeeper reached for the next bottle. ‘Nasty weather we’re having.’ She tutted disapprovingly and smoothed another sheet of paper onto the counter. ‘I’ve never known such a torrent.’
    ‘Quite a downpour, wasn’t it? Still, it’s the time of year.’ For God’s sake, who cares? Just hurry up.
    Dora hunted about for the sticky tape, musing in singsong Brummie. ‘Actually, I got caught in it when I went out earlier. I had to go, though, to visit my mother. She’s in hospital, did you know?’
    ‘No, no, I didn’t know. I’m sorry to hear it.’
    ‘I looked like a drowned weasel by the time I got there. Water dripping off me in the ward.’
    Five past six! This is a nightmare. I have to get home and cook dinner for six people, one of whom will be delighted when I make a mess of things. Please shut up, you hag.
    ‘It’s her hip, you know. Mother’s been on the waiting list for . . . ooh, Alan, how long’s Mother been on the waiting list? Alan? A year? No, love, much longer than that. At least two years, because Dad was still alive, and I know he passed away two years ago last month, even though it feels like yesterday. It got postponed five times, her operation did, right at the last minute. That’s the NHS for you. I expect you know about all that, being involved in it yourself. Five times!’
    ‘No! Five? Disgraceful. Er . . . don’t worry about wrapping up the gin, Dora.’
    Dora stopped wrapping altogether. Tucked her chins into her neck. Took off her glasses, very deliberately.
    ‘Anyway. She tripped over the dog last night. Broke the other one.’
    ‘Oh, no.’
    ‘Lay on the floor all night, only Frodo to keep her warm.’
    ‘No!’
    ‘Milkman found her this morning. Luckily he noticed the curtains.’
    Leila was trapped. You could not fail to show an interest in a woman of eighty-five who’d spent a long, painful night shivering on the floor with a broken hip. But it was now almost ten past six, and her pulse was going wild. She imagined herself hitting Dora on the head with a bottle before sprinting out. The security camera footage would be shown on the news, all grainy and blurred, with the headlines ‘Clergy wife in robbery’ and ‘All for a bottle of gin’.
    ‘Thank goodness for the milkman.’ She reached into her handbag. ‘How much do I owe you?’
    Dora shook her forefinger. ‘Wait a minute! You haven’t heard the half of it yet.’
    Nightmare. It’s a nightmare.
    ‘Milkman looks in through the windows, sees Mother lying there, thinks she’s dead, which almost gives him a cardiac, calls the ambulance on his mobile phone. Then he breaks in. Glass everywhere!’
    ‘What a hero.’
    ‘Nah. Silly sod. You’d think he’d find the key under the mat, wouldn’t you? Everyone keeps their key under