Chapter 46

Looking up as Don returned from his trip to the post office, Lara saw him let himself back into the shop unaware of the two lads directly behind him. The next moment they jostled him through the doorway, pulled Halloween masks out of their pockets, and crammed them onto their faces.

“OK, don’t move, this is a stick-up, right?” slurred Dracula.

“Give us all your stuff!” yelled Zombie Head.

“Oh Jesus, oh God, no…” Don clutched his chest and tottered over to one of the mulberry upholstered chairs.

“Make up your mind then.” Lara pressed the panic button beneath the counter and gave the boys a hard stare; she’d seen them earlier, hanging around outside the shop and swigging Stella from cans. They couldn’t be more than sixteen and from the sound of it weren’t accustomed to strong drink.

“What’s that mean?” Dracula, the taller of the two, swayed on his feet.

“You told me not to move,” said Lara. “But you also want me to give you all our stuff. I can’t do both, can I?”

“OK.” Zombie Head nodded in bleary agreement. “Give us all your stuff. But do it slowly, yeah? No funny business.”

“Fine. Do you have a bag?”

“What?”

“To put all the stuff in,” Lara patiently explained.

“Haven’t you got one?”

“Well, no, because why would I need one? Look, let me just check he’s OK.” She went over to Don, who was hyperventilating and trembling, and checked his pulse. “It’s all right, they won’t hurt you.” Turning back to Zombie Head, Lara added, “He has heart problems, you know. I can’t believe you’d do this to a man who isn’t well. What kind of weapon do you have, anyway? A knife? A gun?”

“Both.” As if belatedly realizing it was meant to be an armed robbery, Zombie Head stuck his hand in his jacket pocket and made pistol fingers at her through the thin material. “I got a… gun. He’s got a knife.”

Dracula swayed and said, “Yeah, I have.”

“Well, look, why don’t you give me your hat and we can put everything in that? I’ll start with some gold bracelets, shall I? The masks are great, by the way. Where did you get them from?”

“Phil bought them from that party shop place.” Dracula took off his beanie hat and handed it to her, revealing spikily gelled blond hair. “You know, the one that does all the costumes and stuff.”

“Ah yes, I’ve been there. It’s a brilliant shop. Now, let’s get this cabinet unlocked… oops, better just make sure we aren’t disturbed by any other customers…” Lara crossed to the door, opened it, and said, “It’s OK, just boys, they’re unarmed.”

“Eh?” Dracula looked bemused.

“What’s going on?” slurred Zombie Head.

Lara stood aside and let the police in to arrest them. Honestly, some people, they didn’t have a clue. She said to Don, “OK now? I’ll put the kettle on and make us a nice cup of tea.”

Having sobered up fast, Dracula started to sob as the two policemen handcuffed him, whisked off his mask, and patted him down. “Oh no, my mum’s gonna go mental when she hears about this.”

The police took statements from Lara and Don, then carted the boys away for a fun-free afternoon down at the station.

“You treated the whole thing like a joke.” Don was fretful, refusing to calm down.

“That’s because it was a joke. They were schoolboys on half-term break, so drunk they didn’t know what they were doing.”

“They could have had guns!”

Lara said patiently, “Don, stop worrying about it. They didn’t.”

“But what if it happens again tomorrow with robbers who do?” He mopped his brow and shook his head. “I’m going to keep thinking that now.”

“You won’t. You’ll be fine. Go home and get some rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Rest? With my neighbors? Ha.”

He looked so upset. The racket next door had shown no sign of abating and the family had now acquired a cat that liked to sit on the wall each night yowling at the moon. When he’d attempted to protest, the charming mother had said, “Oh but, Don, how can we stop them? They’re cats, bless them. It’s what they do!”

Lara’s heart went out to him. To add insult to injury, they had already cheerily informed Don that on Sunday afternoon and evening they’d be holding a party.

“Look, come over to us on Sunday. I’m going to do a big lunch. How about that?”

“Really?” Don, whose idea of a Sunday roast was the kind you bought frozen on a cardboard plate and cooked in the microwave, looked tempted but wary. “Didn’t you say your aunt’s coming down for the weekend?”

“Nettie? She is. That’s why we’re having a proper lunch.”

“I don’t know. She sounds a bit scary.” He’d heard the stories from Lara about no-nonsense salt-of-the-earth Nettie.

“But in a nice way.”

“Hmm.” Don was still looking doubtful; he’d been intimidated by the tale of the escaped bull Nettie had once stopped in its tracks when it had gone on the rampage outside the local kindergarten in Keswick.

“Stop it, she’s great. You’ll like her,” said Lara. “I promise.”

***

Lara, lifting the blackberry crumble out of the oven, listened to the chatter and laughter carrying on in the living room. It was both strange and wonderful having Nettie back amongst them. Finally persuaded to leave her beloved animals in the care of Fred Milton, she had driven down yesterday morning and would be heading back up to Keswick tonight. Keeping in touch via phone calls over the past couple of months had been fine in its own way, but actually having her here was so much better. For the first time she had seen the house. Even more significantly, she’d met Flynn and they’d hit it off instantly.

“Come on then, tell us,” Lara heard Gigi saying now, “what’s been the thing you’ve missed about us the most?”

“Goodness me, how can I choose? Your singing, perhaps?” Nettie sounded amused. “The splurts of toothpaste in the bathroom sink? The not-quite-empty Coke cans left in unexpected places?”

“Oh no, you haven’t missed us at all! I bet you’re loving having the place to yourself! Hmm.” Gigi’s tone turned speculative. “So how are things going between you and Fred?”

Smiling to herself, Lara returned to the living room with the crumble just in time to witness the give-nothing-away expression on Nettie’s face. It was the kind of look you’d see on a politician being ruthlessly interrogated on Question Time.

“Fred’s very well. Finished harvesting his potatoes. I gave him a hand with his ewes last week. All dipped and clipped, they are, ready for tupping.”

Don frowned. “Tupping? What’s that?”

“Mating.” Nettie, who always enjoyed shocking townies, kept a straight face. “That’s why the tail area needs to be clipped.”

“Ah.”

“No need to blush, darling. All perfectly normal. It’s just sex.”

His flush deepening, Don swallowed and said, “Right.”

After a long lunch, during which the story of Don’s neighbors came out, Nettie said, “Come on then, shall we get this thing sorted out?”

“Excuse me?” Don glanced up, belatedly realizing she was addressing him.

“That noisy crew next door to you, the ones making your life a misery. I reckon they need a good talking-to.”

“I’ve already spoken to them.” He looked alarmed.

“And how much of an effect did that have?”

Lara watched, enthralled.

“But the thing is, they’re really nice people,” Don protested.

“Excellent,” said Nettie. “I shall be really nice too. I’ll be an official from the council investigating noise pollution. I’ll explain that unless they get their act together I shall be forced to serve a Noise Abatement Notice on them.”

“They’ll know it’s me who complained!”

“And so they should!”

“Oh God, they’ll hate me.”

“And you’d rather suffer in silence?” Nettie raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief. “Let your blood pressure climb until your heart explodes like a bomb? That, my darling, is called dying of politeness. Come on, let’s go.”

As Nettie rose to her feet, Lara said, “Do council officials wear checked shirts and jeans?”

Nettie said, “This one does.”

Don was surveying her as if she were a rogue firework that might be about to go off. “Are you always like this?”

“Only when it matters.” She reached for her keys and jangled them at him. “Right, hop to it. The sooner we leave, the quicker we’ll be back.”

Which didn’t exactly happen, it had to be said. Dusk fell, the lights of Bath came on, the hours passed, and Lara was on the verge of heading over to Don’s house herself when they finally returned at nine thirty.

“Where the bloody hell have you two been?” She eyed them in disbelief. “Why didn’t you answer your phones?”

Nettie said reasonably, “Mine’s in Keswick.”

“And mine’s right here.” Don patted the inside pocket of his smart cashmere jacket. “It didn’t ring. Oh, sorry, battery’s flat.”

“We were worried about you! I thought maybe the noisy neighbors had drugged and buried the pair of you under their patio.”

“She’s always been like this.” Nettie shook her head apologetically at Don. “Overdramatic.”

“You’ve been gone for four hours!”

“The neighbors invited us to their party,” Don explained.

“And you went?”

“He’s right, they’re lovely people.” Patiently Nettie said, “I did have a chat with them about the noise and they promised to keep it down in future.”

“They’ve done that before,” said Gigi.

“Well, maybe this time they’ll take notice. Anyway,” said Don, “we had a good time. There was karaoke.”

“You mean you sang?” squeaked Lara.

“‘I Dreamed A Dream.’” He looked proud. “From Les Misérables.”

“And you?” She turned to Nettie, whose gray-blonde hair was escaping from its clips.

“She did ‘Born To Be Wild,’” said Don.

Oh good God. “Seriously?”

Gigi said, “Wow.”

Nettie said, “Can you two stop looking at me like that? I got a standing ovation.”

“She did,” Don marveled.

“And was drink involved?”

“Of course not.” Nettie was brisk. “I’m driving home tonight. In fact it’s time I made a move now. I need to be up again at six to milk the goats.”