As a place to live, Christchurch was desirable for many reasons. It was historic, quaint and interesting, full of medieval ruins, ducking stools and sights that were achingly pretty. Two rivers, the Stour and the Avon met for the briefest of moments like a couple of star-crossed lovers, only to be swallowed by Christchurch Harbour. Watched over by the vast, aging priory, you wouldn’t find a more charming town than Christchurch. However, what residents wouldn’t tell you is that the relentless prevailing wind driven off the sea travelled on a direct collision course with the town, raking everything in its path with stinging, salt-laced air. Sooner or later, the corrosive mineral burned anything metal with rust unless it was well maintained. Telephone cabinets were not well maintained. Actually, they were not maintained at all, which meant the lock poor Daisy was currently attempting to crack didn’t stand a chance, furred up as it was with legions of rust.
“Are you sure it won’t budge?” Partial Sue muttered.
“Positive,” Daisy replied. “What do we do?”
Fiona tried to think. This was supposed to be a quick, stealthy, in-and-out mission, and now they were standing around wondering, and possibly drawing suspicion. She hadn’t anticipated this. “What do people do when metal is seized with rust?”
Partial Sue’s sharp brain provided the answer. “WD40!” she answered a little too loudly. “It’s still in the back of the car. I’ll get it. We can spray it on the lock, loosen it up.”
“Good thinking.” Fiona watched Partial Sue dart back to the car with a fast walk that really wanted to be a run.
Simon Le Bon whined, concerned that one of them had left the pack, while Daisy got to her feet, her knees complaining with a snap, crackle and pop. She wiped the sweat from her top lip. “Let’s hope this works.”
“Me too.” Fiona had no idea what they would do if it didn’t.
Partial Sue returned and surreptitiously passed the can of WD40 to Daisy, who crouched down and doused the lock with spray lubricant. In one swift motion, Partial Sue took the can off her again and slid it out of sight into her coat pocket.
“Give it a moment or two,” Partial Sue whispered. “For it to soak in.”
Daisy obeyed and was about to insert her picks into the lock when the school bell rang, making them all jump. Five classroom doors burst open along the length of the playground. Bubbling with pent-up energy, dozens of little bodies came tumbling out for morning playtime. A chaotic mess of chatter and random movement, they spilled out in every direction. However, like a murmuration of starlings, one group simultaneously emerged and moved as one in the direction of the fence, lured by the sight of a cute, scruffy dog. The mass of little bodies squatted down and pushed their faces and hands through the fence, accompanied by a chorus of aahs. Simon Le Bon played right into their hands and began wagging his tail and licking their outstretched fingers.
One of the pupils giggled. “It tickles.”
Fiona tugged Simon Le Bon back a little, figuring that this wasn’t the most hygienic thing for small children to be doing.
A deluge of questions followed, generated by curious little minds.
“What’s his name?”
“What sort of dog is he?”
“Can I stroke him?”
“What does he eat?”
“How old is he?”
“Does he bite?”
“Does he chase cats?”
“Can he do tricks?”
“What’s his name?” This question got repeated more than the others.
“Simon Le Bon,” Fiona replied.
“That’s a funny name,” a little girl said.
“Why is he called Simon Le Bon?” another asked.
“I bet he’s French,” a little boy answered.
Out of the corner of her eye, Fiona could see one of the playground monitors approaching to see what all the fuss was about.
“I think our cover is blown,” Partial Sue whispered in Fiona’s ear.
Fiona agreed. “Daisy, we need to get out of here.”
“But I haven’t—”
“Abort mission. Abort mission.”
Daisy straightened up again, her knees complaining. There were sighs of disappointment from the children as the charity shop detectives made a swift exit with their tails between their legs, apart from Simon Le Bon’s, which stood proud and pleased with itself thanks to all the attention.