“Me neither. It’s been very quiet without her.”
“You must be getting nervous, Jill. It won’t be long now.”
“I’m okay. Jack’s nervous enough for both of us.” I glanced through the shop window. “How’s business? It looks like you’re busy.”
“It’s going really well, thanks. Especially since I got up to speed.”
“Are you and Nails both doing the nails now?”
“Yeah, but most people still ask for him. We’ve put up his rates—he now charges twice as much as I do. Hopefully, the price hike will persuade a few people to give me a go. Hey, I’ve just had a brilliant idea.”
Oh dear.
“I could do your nails for the wedding.”
“Err—I—err—thanks, but—”
“I wouldn’t charge you anything. It would be part of my wedding gift. Please, Jill, it would mean a lot to me.”
“Are you sure you—err—that’s to say, do you know what you’re—I mean, are you definitely okay working on real hands?”
“Oh yeah. Defo. I could do them for you on the day before the wedding. What do you say?”
“Okay then. I guess it would be nice to have attractive nails for a change.”
“Great. I’ll see you on the hen night.”
***
Aunt Lucy had now settled into her new home. Everything was pretty much perfect except for her next-door neighbour: Grandma.
“Hi, Jill.” She was baking what looked like cupcakes.
“Morning. Are you enjoying your day off?”
“It doesn’t seem right to call it that, but it is nice to have some time to myself.”
Aunt Lucy looked after Amber’s little girl, Lil, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and then Pearl’s little girl, Lil, on Wednesdays and Fridays. That arrangement allowed the twins to keep working at Cuppy C, two days each, every week.
Yes, you did hear right. Neither Amber nor Pearl would back down, so now Aunt Lucy had two granddaughters, both named Lil.
“Where’s Barry?”
“In the back garden.”
“Is he any better?”
“Not really. He didn’t even want to go for a walk yesterday.”
“That’s not a good sign. I’ll see if I can cheer him up.”
“Good luck. Do you want a drink?”
“No, thanks. I’ve just had a coffee.”
When Aunt Lucy had moved into her new house, the back garden had been overrun with weeds. The previous occupant, an elderly witch, had found the upkeep too much for her towards the end. Now though, it was back to its former glory—thanks to the long hours put in by Aunt Lucy, ably assisted by Lester.
Barry was lying on the path, staring out of the gate. Normally, when I came to see him, he was all over me like a rash, but since Hamlet’s death, he’d been much more subdued.
“Hi, Barry.”
“Hello.”
“How are you?”
“Okay.”
“Are you sure? You don’t look very happy.”
“I miss Hamlet.”
“We all do, but he wouldn’t want you to be sad, would he?”
“I can’t help it.”
“I’ve had an idea. Why don’t we see if we can get you another hamster?”
“It wouldn’t be Hamlet.”
“I know, but—”
“I don’t want another hamster.”
“Okay, that’s understandable. How about we go to Everything Rodent to see if they have any other pets you might like.”
“What kind of pet?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t we see what they have? What do you say?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Great. Come on, then. There’s no time like the present.”
***
Bill Ratman was behind the counter in Everything Rodent.
“Morning, you two. I heard about Hamlet. My condolences to both of you.”
“Thanks, Bill. I thought we might get Barry another pet.”
“Another hamster?”
“No!” Barry said. “Don’t want a hamster.”
“Of course. I understand. What did you have in mind?”
“We’re open to suggestions,” I said. “In your experience, what would make the best pet for a dog?”
“After hamsters? I’d say tortoises.”
“That sounds like a great idea. What do you think, Barry?”
“They have shells.” He perked up for the first time that morning. “I like shells.”
“A tortoise it is, then.” I looked around. “Where are they?”
“Tortoises aren’t rodents.”
“Of course. Silly me. Any idea where we might get one?”
“You need Everything Reptile. It’s owned by my cousin, Truman.”
“Your cousin? Pets really do run in your family, don’t they?”
“Truman actually opened his shop first. In fact, he was the inspiration for me to open this place.”
Before we left, Bill gave Barry a handful of Barkies, which I was pleased to see he devoured enthusiastically.
“What do tortoises eat?” Barry asked, as we walked to Everything Reptile.
“I’m not sure.”
“Do they like Barkies?”
“I doubt it. I think they prefer leaves.”
“Yuk. Barkies are much better.”
Everything Reptile was deserted.
“Hello? Anyone in?” I shouted from the counter.
“Just a moment. I’m cleaning out the geckos.” The voice came from the room behind the counter.
“What’s a gecko, Jill?” Barry said.
“A kind of lizard, I think.”
“You’re correct.” A man appeared behind the counter. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Are you Truman?”
“That’s me. Truman Turtle at your service.”
“Turtle?” I laughed.
He didn’t.
“Sorry. Your cousin, Bill Ratman, suggested that we pay you a visit. I’m looking for a pet for Barry. Bill suggested a tortoise.”
“Tortoises are ideal companions for dogs.”
“What are those?” Barry pulled me across the shop.
“They look like baby crocodiles. I shouldn’t get too close.”
“I like these.” He stuck his nose even closer.
“Barry, don’t—”
“Ouch!” He jumped back. “It bit me.”
“Let me look. It’s okay. It didn’t break the skin.”
“I don’t like crocodiles.” He backed away.
“I’m pleased to hear that. Let’s go and check out the tortoises.”
While Barry had been investigating the crocodiles, Truman had been in the back room to get a tortoise.
“There’s been something of a run on tortoises over the last few days. This guy is the only one I have left.”
“I like him.” Barry’s tail was wagging like crazy. “Can I have him, Jill? Please?”
“Sure. Why not?”
Whilst I had no wish to speak ill of the dead, Hamlet had been quite a demanding rodent—he’d run me ragged at times. At least with a tortoise, I could look forward to a quiet life. So far, this one hadn’t even popped his head out of his shell—he was probably fast asleep.
I paid and was just about to leave the shop when it occurred to me that I didn’t know the tortoise’s name.
“Excuse me, Truman. What’s his name?”
Before he could answer, his phone rang.
“Everything Reptile. Truman speaking. How can I help?” He turned to me and mouthed the name.
“What is it?” Barry asked.
“I think he said it’s Dimes.”
After dropping Barry, and his new friend, back at Aunt Lucy’s house, I phoned Mrs V to see if there had been any messages. There hadn’t, and as I had no live cases, I decided to give myself the rest of the day off. At least, that way I’d have a little time to myself before Marceau arrived.
***
I hadn’t seen Mr Ivers in the toll booth for ages, and curiosity had finally got the better of me.
“Doesn’t Mr Ivers work here anymore?”
“Didn’t you hear?” The young man was obviously trying to grow a moustache, but with limited success.
“Hear what?”
“Ivers won the lottery. Jammy sod.”
“Really? When was that?”
“A couple of months back. He didn’t win the jackpot, but from what I heard, he cleared almost half a mil. Wish it had been me.”
“Me too.”
There was no justice in the world. Why couldn’t I win the lottery?
What? Yes, I do realise that I never buy a ticket, but that’s not the point, is it? It’s the principle that counts. Some people—me for example—are simply more deserving. That’s all I’m saying.
I’d only driven half-a-mile from the bridge when I noticed two people, dressed in overalls, by the side of the road—they appeared to be pruning back the bushes. As I got closer, I recognised one of them, so I pulled up a little further up the road and walked back.
“Daze?”