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There was something wrong with the electric blinds in An- drew’s office. They kept raising and lowering themselves at will. The glare on Bright’s computer screen was awful so he packed up his laptop and headed into the clubhouse to try to find somewhere to get some work done.
He was also avoiding Dougal who seemed to have a tire- less supply of comments and complaints to be made. It was a mere coincidence that he ended up in the library where he could see Mary working away at her own laptop. After all, that was what the internet zone was used for, he told himself.
One of the lamps in the corner kept flickering on and off like some sort of Morse code, so he got up and unplugged it. What on earth was up with all the electrics here? From where he stood, he could see Mary making notes. She had reindeer earrings on today, the noses little glowing red lights. Every now and then she paused to think, tapping her pen against the notepad in time to the radio. He wondered what she was thinking about. When she looked up and noticed him star- ing, she gave him a warm smile.
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“Someone’s been pinching my socks,” Dougal said in his ear, making him jump. It would seem he hadn’t gone far enough from his office. “This is the third one to go missing.”
“You’ve lost three pairs of socks?” Bright clarified. “No, no, just the one.”
“One pair?”
“No.” Dougal sighed loudly. “Three socks. One sock each time, not a pair. From my clothesline.”
“Are you sure your washing machine isn’t eating them?” Mary called out helpfully.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m not a flaming idiot, I know I hung both socks out each time. And three times, one of them has disap- peared. Someone is nicking them,” Dougal huffed.
“Why would anyone want only one sock?” Mary asked. “How the hell should I know?” Dougal grumbled. “Maybe
it’s that bloke up at forty-three with the prosthetic leg?”
“Ohhh,” Mary said. “Yes, Marvin Petrois. That’s a fair assessment. No, wait. I think he’s gone to the hospital and doesn’t get around much these days.”
“Well, he managed fine before with one leg, didn’t he?” Dougal grumbled.
Bright sighed. “I’m really not sure that there’s much to be done about three missing socks to be honest, Mr Cartwright.”
“Four,” Bets called out from the hallway.
“Sorry?” Bright could feel the start of a headache forming.
He really needed a coffee.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” Bets said. “I lost one of my lovely green bed socks last week.”
“Right,” Bright said, rubbing his forehead. “Well, I’ll make a note ...”
“And Helen and Viv have both lost a knee-high.” “A what?”
“Knee-high. Stockings, love. I only remember this because they were saying how odd it was that they lost one each. And how it was a shame they didn’t match as they could have paired up the other two if they did. But one was a thick navy and the other was a spotty one. A compression one, I believe, you know, for on the aeroplane. Stops you getting an STD ...” “I think you’ll find it’s DVT,” Mary said with a sort of
laughing cough. Bright held back a grin. “I’ll look into it then.”
“The case of the missing socks,” Bets said, clapping her hands together. “How exciting.”
“Riveting,” said Mary with such a straight face that he had to look up and catch her wink to realise she was being sarcastic.
“Perhaps, Ms Star,” he said, “we could have a meeting over a coffee and discuss our sleuthing technique?”
“Excellent idea, Bright,” she said, and there was something rather nice about the way she said his name. He thought per- haps he liked it.
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The cafe at the clubhouse was fairly small. It had a long servery area with a glass cabinet of various cakes and slices and also a pie warmer with sausage rolls and mini quiches. A robust woman stood behind the counter taking drink orders, her hair in a net, a smudge of orange lipstick on one tooth.
“What can I get you?” Bright asked Mary.
“I’d love a flat white, thanks. Shall I get us a water each and nab a table?”
Bright ordered their hot drinks and then eyed the cakes. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth but he’d noticed Mary did. He ordered a couple of brandy snaps as well and paid.
Mary had picked a table at the back by the ranch sliders and she was sitting watching him, a smile on her face. He smiled back but then stopped. Glenda had stopped to chat to her, along with a young guy in a garishly bright tie-dyed T-shirt. Bright didn’t like the way he had his hand on Mary’s shoulder. There was something a little too familiar about it.
“Here he is,” Mary said. “Dallas, this is Bright, our tem- porary manager. Bright, this is Dallas, Glenda’s grandson, visiting from Dunedin.”
“Hey, mate.” Dallas gave him a head nod. Bright put out his hand, forcing Dallas to remove his from Mary and shake it.
“I was telling Mary that she should join Dallas for dinner tonight,” Glenda told him. “I booked us a table at La Dolce but silly old me forgot that I have bridge.”
“That really is kind, but I’m afraid I already have plans,” Mary said, and for some reason Bright felt quite relieved. He briefly wondered what her plans might be.
Bright thought that they’d never leave. Dallas was hov- ering around Mary like a skunk to a sunflower and Glenda continued to natter away. He watched Mary, listening to Glenda, her head tilted to one side, silly earrings swaying each time she nodded, like she genuinely was interested in what Glenda had to say.
“Well, I’d best get back and get my washing in. Last week I had one of my lucky lawn bowls socks go missing. There were dirty boot marks on the pavers too, so I don’t think it fell off and blew away. Why on earth would anybody want a single sock?”
“It is a bit strange,” Mary said.
“I’m a bit worried they might come back for my ...” She leant in to whisper furtively to Mary, but not quietly enough that Bright couldn’t hear. “... smalls.”
“Right. Let’s hope not. I understand you wanting to hurry off though.”
“Panty thieves, they’re called. It’s disgusting to think what they might be doing with them.” Glenda shuddered dramatically.
“It was nice to see you again, Dallas,” Mary said, when Glenda turned to leave, gesturing for him to follow.
“You’ll be seeing a bit more of me, no doubt. I’m here for a while scouting out jobs.”
Bright gritted his teeth and hoped the job market wasn’t favourable. There was nothing small about Glenda, he thought, as her ample backside made its way between tables towards the exit. He couldn’t think of one single thing a pair of granny pants would be useful for — other than polishing the car, maybe.
Mary’s eyes sparkled, as though she could tell what he was thinking.
“Gran would have called them her apple catchers,” she said with a grin as she took a sip of her coffee, then picked up the brandy snap and took a large bite, moaning apprecia- tively. “Mmm, delicious. These are one of my favourite treats at Christmas.”
There was a blob of cream on her lip and Bright thought about reaching out and rubbing it off with his finger, but Mary picked up her serviette and dabbed her lips and he mentally shook himself for such an idiotic idea.
He felt oddly tongue-tied and drank his coffee way too
fast, burning his tongue. They finished much quicker than he would have liked.
“So the socks?” Mary asked with a grin.
“Yes, I doubt it’s anything more than forgetfulness, but I suppose I can sort something out. See if there’s anything to worry about.”
“Well, let me know if there’s anything you want me to help with. Thanks for the coffee, Bright. I’m sure you’ve got loads to do, so I’ll head off and see Mrs Greene at number thir- ty-two.” Mary stood and hoisted up the overstuffed tote bag she lugged around with her. “She hasn’t been well. I’ve made some soup and I want to see if there’s anything she needs.”
“I’ll get on to the security stuff,” he said. He had a friend in the business who owed him a favour. Mary weaved through the tables, smiling and waving at the residents. As he fol- lowed behind her, he couldn’t help but think about under- wear. Not the type Glenda would be wearing either.
CHAPTER 9