Paws for Alarm

by Marian Babson

  ‘But how could they know I was American? They were too far away to hear my accent.’

  ‘Arnold, you look American. It’s written all over you. You might as well go around wearing a star-spangled shirt and whistling Yankee Doodle Dandy. You’d even look hopelessly American in a Savile Row suit.’

  ‘You think so?’ Arnold looked into space pensively. ‘I’ve got to admit it, honey –’ He paused and took a deep breath for the confession. ‘I’d really love to go home wearing a Savile Row suit.’

  ‘If you do,’ I warned, ‘I’m buying a Jean Muir dress.’

  Arnold brightened perceptibly. ‘It’s a deal, Babe!’

  With Arnold hanging around the house all day, the week took on a different shape. Also, we had the car back, which was a great help. I had to do all the driving but Arnold, once he had painfully settled himself into the passenger seat, seemed perfectly happy there. Too happy — he went everywhere with me.

  Of course, that immediately doubled the grocery bills. Arnold is unsafe at any speed in a supermarket. Let me turn my back for one second and he loaded the shopping trolley with enough extras to provision an army.

  He was as bad as the twins and they all had the same sneaky trick: they buried their stuff under the things I was buying so that I didn’t know what they’d done until I’d reached the checkout cashier and it was too late.

  ‘Okay, you guys –’ I whirled on my brood as the cashier’s hand unearthed yet another surprise packet. ‘Who the hell put in those pickled eggs?’ As though I didn’t know.

  ‘I thought they might make an interesting cocktail nibble, honey,’ Arnold owned up. Behind him, there was a surreptitious giggle and I turned back to the cashier in time to see her tapping the cash register for half a dozen chocolate bars and a big cake.

  ‘Okay,’ I said darkly, ‘but I’m confiscating those and only handing them out when you deserve them.’

  Another little giggle answered this threat. Arnold was smirking suspiciously, too. What else had they done?

  I soon found out. I took one look at the next item the cashier tossed on to the counter and almost fainted. The giggles rose to a crescendo. I swallowed hard and lost my temper.

  ‘Don’t you dare ring that up!’ I thundered at the cashier. Her fingers froze over the cash register.

  ‘I suppose you think that’s funny!’ I rounded on Arnold and the kids.

  They did. They thought it was the funniest thing they’d seen since Errol tangled with a skunk at home and we’d had to spend half a day with clothes pegs over our noses bathing the furious cat in tomato juice.

  ‘And you -!’ The cashier had begun to snicker, too. ‘I think that’s revolting! I don’t know how you can sell such a thing. It’s obscene!’

  ‘It’s a very popular item,’ the girl sniffed. ‘Particularly among our older customers. They like to make their own brawn.’

  ‘All brawn and no brains,’ Arnold muttered. He still thought it was hilarious.

  I didn’t. I’d seen that ... that ... thing ... in the meat compartment and shrunk away in unbelieving horror. And one of my loving family had caught the motion and picked up the item and buried it at the bottom of my shopping trolley – doubtless hoping to send me off my trolley, and damn near succeeding.

  It was a pig’s head. To be precise – and even more disgusting – a pig’s head split in two. It was neatly laid out in a large tray; one half was cloven side up, displaying veins, brains, gristle and all manner of horrifying inner workings; the other half was perhaps worse, it was the head in profile, one evil little eye feebly glittering.

  I took a few more deep breaths, trying not to retch. I saw with relief, out of the corner of my own eye, the cashier slip the sickening object out of sight beneath the counter.

  ‘Heh-heh –’ Arnold tried, too late, to turn it into a cough.

  ‘I hate you, Arnold Harper!’ I stormed. ‘Some day I’m going to do myself a favour and divorce you. And, when I do, I’ll make damned sure you get custody of those rotten little monsters!’

  Eleven

  ‘Please forgive me for telephoning so early, but I just had to know – ?’ Hazel’s voice throbbed with concern. ‘Are you all right? Is everything all right?’

  ‘All right?’ I looked at the telephone receiver blankly. Arnold and I were having a lazy Sunday morning. I’d made coffee, toast and scrambled eggs and brought them upstairs on a tray. We were in bed surrounded by an assortment of Sunday papers, the twins curled at the foot of the bed with what passed for the comics in a couple of the papers, and even Esmond had joined the party and was disposing of his share of scrambled eggs and coffee cream. Things couldn’t have been more all right.

  ‘Everything’s just fine.’ I didn’t bother to disguise the puzzlement in my voice. ‘Why shouldn’t it be?’

  ‘Oh, forgive me. I’d heard –’ She broke off abruptly.

  ‘Heard what?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Someone said – Obviously, she’d got things wrong. Just forget I said anything.’

  ‘Oh no you don’t. Come on, Hazel, you might as well tell me. The more you don’t say, the worse I’ll think it was.’

  ‘I suppose so. Oh, dear,’ she wailed, ‘I should have known it was just silly gossip.’

  ‘Hazel –’

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing, really. I mean, I know that now. It’s just that one of my neighbours was standing in the queue behind you at the supermarket yesterday and she heard — She thought you were serious about ... about a divorce. And she knew that we were friends –’

  ‘Relax,’ I said. “That was yesterday. I kind of lost my temper. I guess I’ve got a pretty short fuse –’

  ‘Wouldn’t have you any other way, Babe.’ Arnold patted my thigh. I leaned back against him, rolling the earpiece to one side so that he could hear the other side of the conversation. No one would have been worried about the state of our alliance if they could have seen us now.

  ‘And they were all deliberately plaguing me –’ I went on.

  ‘Heh, heh, heh,’ Arnold snickered.

  ‘Anyway –’ I gave him a moderately heavy thump on one of the few uninjured parts of his anatomy. ‘There’s no problem. We’re not getting a divorce. Forget it.’

  ‘I’m so glad!’ Was she? A faint note in her voice didn’t ring true. Inevitably, it brought back the memory of her arms around Arnold under the porch light. Had she called to establish her place in the succession if I was abdicating?

  ‘We kid around a lot,’ I said firmly, giving Arnold a dirty look. He responded with a look of injured innocence, not knowing the reason for my sudden hostility.

  ‘Of course, that isn’t the only reason I called.’ Hazel had recovered herself and was proceeding smoothly.

  ‘There’s quite a delightful outing coming up this week. It’s been on the stocks for some time, but I’m not sure if anyone has thought to tell you about it.’

  ‘No.’ I was intrigued. ‘Nobody’s said anything to me about any outing.’

  ‘I was afraid not. I know Lania has booked for it, but I wasn’t sure that she’d thought to tell you.’

  ‘I suppose we can’t be surprised that she isn’t rushing to let us in on any treats.’ Nevertheless, I felt gloomy about it. ‘I guess we really – what do you say? – blotted our copybooks with her, all right.’

  ‘Never mind.’ Hazel laughed lightly. ‘She’ll get over it. I’m sure you’ll find she grows friendlier as the hedge grows out again.’

  ‘We won’t be here that long.’

  ‘At least, she’s on speaking terms again.’ Hazel seemed determined to be a little ray of sunshine. ‘That’s something.’

  ‘Sure.’ Lania rallied round in an emergency, and undoubtedly she’d let us know if the house was on fire. But she wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for in the way of neighbours when I left home. I was really missing the friends I’d left behind. Even Celia was beginning to seem like a bosom buddy compared to Lania.

  ‘Anyway, about the
day trip. We planned it and booked the coach ages ago, but there are still a few places left. If you’re interested, we could fit you in easily. I think you’d enjoy it.’

  ‘Enjoy what?’ I was still suspicious. Even Hazel’s friendliness might have an ulterior motive. The image of those arms around Arnold, having recurred to me, would not fade. It led to a bemused wonder as to just how she had said goodnight to John Blake the night he met his death. Had she given him something to think about that night? So much that he was distracted and not paying attention to his driving when that other driver had come at him? Rosemary had blamed Hazel for his death – was she righter than she knew?

  ‘France —’ The magic word drove everything else out of my mind. ‘Boulogne. Shopping. We do it four or five times a year. The coach takes us straight to the supermarket and we pick up our duty-frees and shopping and don’t have to worry about carrying it. After that, we have lunch and explore the shops in the centre of town, then catch the last ferry home and are delivered straight to our doors. It makes a nice day’s outing.’

  ‘Day? You mean you can do it in a day? Go to France?’ I was aware that my voice had risen to a squeak. Arnold and the kids looked at me expectantly.

  “The bus will leave here at eight in the morning, it’s less than an hour’s drive to the coast, the crossing is about seventy-five minutes on the ferry. The coach will take us straight to the supermarket, wait until we’ve done our shopping, then drive us into town and leave us. We’ll make our own way to the ferry at the end of the day – the dock is right across from the main shopping area — and the bus will be on board waiting for us. It couldn’t be easier.’

  ‘You’ve just picked up four more passengers.’ Arnold was nodding enthusiastic agreement. ‘When do we go?’

  ‘Wednesday. It’s a market day in Boulogne, so we’ll leaflet, ‘a man would sail his own boat across the Channel, load up with booze and tobacco –’

  ‘You haven’t got a boat and you don’t know how to sail.’

  ‘Smuggling – that’s the only way to beat them!’ Arnold’s eyes narrowed. He struck a stance and declaimed: ‘Four-and-twenty ponies, trotting through the dark –’

  ‘That reminds me,’ I said. ‘Brandy is even more expensive than rum – the best brandy.’

  ‘Ah-ha!’ Arnold swung his attention to the twins. They cringed under his sudden calculating scrutiny. ‘And they fitted up their cohorts with body-belts for gold, hollow-heeled shoes, coats with secret pockets –’

  ‘I gotta go look for Esmond,’ Donald said uncomfortably. ‘I haven’t seen him all day. Maybe he’s in trouble.’ He began hobbling off.

  Hobbling? ‘Wait a minute,’ I said. ‘Come back here. What’s the matter with you?’

  ‘Nothing – honest.’ He paused in the doorway, shaking his head. ‘I’m okay, Mom.’

  ‘Then why are you limping?’

  ‘Oh, that —’ He looked to his twin for support. ‘That’s nothing – just a blister. I’m okay, honest.’

  ‘Me, too.’ Donna imitated his gait as she crossed to him. For a fleeting moment, I wondered which one really had the blister.

  ‘Come here – both of you.’

  ‘It’s okay, Mom, it burst this morning. I’ve got a plaster on it.’ Donald backed away.

  ‘Me, too.’

  ‘Brandy for the parson –’ Arnold roared suddenly. ‘baccy for the clerk –’ He made a sweeping gesture with the wrong arm, paled and staggered. ‘Oh, my God – I’ve burst all my stitches!’

  ‘All right, dear, all right.’ I rushed to his side. The twins melted into the hallway. ‘Here, lean on me. You’re overdoing it. You’d better lie quietly again. Are you sure you’re going to be okay for such a long trip on Wednesday?’

  ‘Don’t you worry about me.’ Arnold collapsed on the sofa with evident relief. ‘I’ll make it, Babe.’ His eyes gleamed with fanatical fervour. ‘I won’t let you down.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ I lowered him against the cushions and slid my supporting arm away. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He tugged at the adhesive tape. ‘I can’t look. Just check, will you, Babe?’

  ‘Easy does it – Steady on –’ I wavered between cultures as I inched the tape away from the wound, ‘we’re doing fine –’

  ‘You mean I’m doing fine –’ Arnold opened one indignant eye as I eased the gauze and cotton wool off the stitches. ‘Stop sounding like an idiot!’

  ‘Okay, if that’s the way you want it.’ I ripped the final covering off.

  ‘Aaaagh!’

  ‘You’re doing great,’ I assured him. ‘Not one stitch has burst.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ He flexed the muscles of his arm tentatively and winced.

  ‘Positive.’ I began replacing the bandages. A flicker of ginger movement by the door caught my eye.

  ‘Esmond!’ White whiskers twitched and a furry head began backing out of sight. The twins are looking for you.’ Esmond was unconcerned by this information. If anything, it hastened his retreat.

  ‘You just go and catch those mice –’ I called after him. There had been faint off-and-on scrabbling noises all day, now that I came to think of it. ‘What do you think you’re here for?’

  ‘Call that a cat?’ Arnold was restored to good humour. He even sealed down the edges of the adhesive tape himself. ‘I’d like to see him tangle with Errol. He’d never know what hit him.’

  ‘That’s not fair! Errol is – is –’ Suddenly, homesickness swept over me. I wanted Errol and our house in Cranberry Lane. I wanted Pixie tootling the Habanera on the horn of the Welcome Wagon as a signal to come out and go for a ride with her. I wanted to know what was happening to Patrick – and even Celia.

  ‘Excuse me –’ I broke away and ran from the study. ‘I have to write some letters.’

  Twelve

  It was still wet and watery on Wednesday, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even mind getting breakfast ready an hour and a half ahead of time.

  ‘Are we still going to go?’ Donna worried nervously. ‘It’s raining outside.’

  ‘This is England,’ I said. ‘If they let a little thing like rain stop them, they’d never get anything done. They’d still be living in the Dark Ages.’

  ‘Through rain and sleet and gloom of night –’ Arnold began quoting, neatly mixing an entire nation up with the United States Postal Service.

  ‘That’s right, dear.’ Under the guise of putting more toast on his plate, I managed to slide my hand across his forehead to try to assess his temperature. It seemed to be within reasonable limits, but I realized I would have to keep a close watch on him. He was not as normal as he was trying to pretend.

  ‘Angela and Peregrine have to go to school today,’ Donna informed us complacently. ‘They’re furious because they can’t come.’

  ‘Too bad,’ Arnold said mechanically, buttering another slice of toast. Beside him, a pad of paper was covered with oblique calculations about the exchange rate, comparative prices according to the brochure he had picked up in a travel agency, and the current state of the Harper budget. He took a large bite of toast and jotted down a few more figures.

  ‘We don’t have to go to school in summer,’ Donald said smugly. ‘Angela and Perry would love to move over to the States to live.’

  ‘Fine.’ I poured more milk into his glass. ‘Just let them convince their parents to move.’ (And don’t let them move anywhere near New Hampshire. I’d already had enough of dear Lania to last me a lifetime.)

  ‘Oh, hurry –’ Donna was jiggling with impatience. ‘We’ll miss the bus. They’ll go without us.’

  ‘We’ve got plenty of time, honey.’ But Arnold began clearing his place, putting his notes into his pockets. Donald gulped down his milk.

  ‘Not so fast – you’ll choke.’ The remark could have been addressed to either husband or child. Arnold was now demolishing his toast at a rate of knots. I looked at them both suspiciously.

  ‘Are you sure you�
��re feeling well enough for this trip, Arnold?’

  ‘Sure, honey. There’s no problem. Somebody else is doing the driving. I’ll be sitting down most of the way, then we’ll just have a gentle stroll around Boulogne. If I get tired, we can go into a café and have a drink and a rest.’

  ‘Well ...’ I transferred my concern to Donald. ‘Are you all right for walking around? How’s your blister?’

  ‘Huh?’ He looked at me blankly, then recovered. Oh, that. I told you. It’s okay now. All gone. I’m fine.’ He pushed back his chair and darted for the bathroom.

  I watched him closely. He didn’t seem to be limping this morning. Maybe he was doing okay, or maybe – I looked at Donna. She had no trace of a limp, either. Whatever had been bothering them had obviously cleared up of its own accord.

  Nevertheless, I resolved to keep a careful eye on my little flock and make sure they didn’t overdo things in the excitement of the outing.

  The coach was loading as we got there. I sent Arnold and the kids ahead to get seats while I parked the car. Most of the passengers seemed to know each other and there were cries of greeting, jokes and much happy laughter.

  Hazel was standing to one side – with the party but not of it. She acknowledged greetings, but stayed where she was. Until Arnold came along. Then she moved forward and touched his arm. He turned and smiled down at her; the twins welcomed her enthusiastically. She walked to the coach with them and they all boarded together. She might have been the woman of that family.

  I parked the car in record time and dashed on to the coach. At least she hadn’t had the nerve to usurp my seat beside Arnold. Not yet. She was sitting, however, in the seat directly across the aisle. I gave her a frosty smile (I’d picked it up from Lania) and sank into my seat firmly.

  ‘Would you like to change places, honey?’ Arnold had bagged the window seat and the offer was half-hearted.

  ‘No, thanks, this is fine.’ It cut Arnold off from the chance of chummy conversation with Hazel all the way to the coast. Of course, that meant that I was stuck with passing the occasional comment and I determined that it was going to be very occasional.