LITMIR.BIZ

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husband. But apart from the time when she was first cradled in her mother's arms, a triumphal exit through the hospital's front doors has eluded Minnie and has been added to her lifelong list of unfulfilled dreams along with bridesmaid, ballerina and Princess Margaret.

      After the opening of a new medical facility in 1970, the old hospital was converted into a home for the elderly infirm, and Minnie resolutely keeps her eyes on the pavement and sticks to the curbside as she passes. She pays a penalty as a car swishes by and douses her stockings and shoes.

      She'd spent a long time choosing today's shoes; comfortable enough to carry her across town while stylish enough for her engagement. She would have preferred the stilettos of her fifties, when she'd still had Alfred to tango with, but age has whittled away her ankles and she had feared tripping and failing in her assignment. So she's settled for a clumpy pair of lace-ups with a heel low enough to make falling unlikely.

      Bliss's ex-wife's wedding shoes have also been carefully selected, though not from her existing collection.

      "Hah! Of course I have to have new shoes," she'd cried when George, Bliss's replacement, had timorously suggested that she might find something suitable amongst the fifty or so pairs already clogging several wardrobes.

      Bliss is watching his ex-wife as she basks in the glow of their daughter, and he is weighing up the probable cost of her outfit when a familiar voice brings him back to earth.

      "David… Proud day… How'r'ya feeling?"

      "About as useful as a double-ended condom, to be honest, Mick," replies Bliss. "I wasn't even allowed to give Samantha away at the altar. She reckoned it was demeaning to be offered up like a sacrificial cow. So far, all I've had to do is get Daphne a pot for her tea."

      "I dunno why we blokes bother with weddings," complains Inspector Williams, and Bliss is on the point of agreeing when he realizes that Daphne has found another reluctant ear.

      "… and then we're going to Alice Springs and Ayers Rock."

      "So how much is this little jaunt costing exactly?" asks Bliss, taking the spotlight and allowing a fellow chief inspector to escape.

      "Nearly thirty thousand pounds," replies Daphne smugly. "And Minnie insists on paying for everything. ‘You can't do that,' I told her, but she's adamant. And it's hardly a jaunt, David. We're doing seven great rivers; the Zambezi, Niagara Falls, the Amazon…"

      Minnie gives a wide berth to Maplin's Travel on Market Street, where Sandra Piddock shuffles longingly through a large stack of tickets as she peers out into the October murk. "Hawaii, Bali, the Seychelles, the Pyramids and the Great Wall," she muses, then picks up the phone and listens to Minnie's recorded voice inviting her to leave a message.

      "It's Sandra at Maplin's, Mrs. Dennon. Thursday afternoon. Just reminding you that we've got all the tickets ready for you and Ms. Lovelace. You'll have to collect them by tomorrow afternoon or we'll have to cancel them and you'll lose your deposit. If you have any queries…"

      Minnie has no queries. She has a meeting to attend and hurries on towards the city's Norman cathedral.

      Detective Chief Inspector Peter Bryan is making the rounds alone as his new wife powders her nose, with the help of her mother and three of her bridesmaids.

      "Gawd knows what they're doing in there," he says to his father-in-law with a nod to the washroom.

      "Twenty-five years with her mother and I never worked it out," mumbles Bliss before changing the subject. "Young Daphne here is taking a trip around the world with her friend, Minnie."

      "Wow! That's amazing," says Bryan with imprudent enthusiasm.

      "Yes. First we're taking the Orient Express across Europe; then we're sailing the Aegean to Istanbul…"

      "That sounds absolutely fabulous. I'd love to hear about it sometime, but —" starts Bryan, with a couple of hundred guests waiting to congratulate him, though he can't escape so lightly.

      "… then on to Cairo; we'll be cruising up the Nile to the Pyramids…"

      "I really ought to —"

      "… then there's the safari in the Serengeti…"

      "Great, but —"

      "… the Seychelles…"

      "Peter," cuts in Samantha, appearing from nowhere. "They're calling us to start the buffet — oh. Hi, Daphne."

      "Hello, Samantha. I was just saying to your husband — oh! They've gone."

      "Never mind, Daphne," comforts Bliss. "She completely ignored me, and I'm her father."

      Daphne shakes her head knowingly, laughing, "Children," as if she's had a lifetime's experience.

      The wet-dog smell of Minnie's saturated woollen overcoat mingles with the ecclesiastical mustiness of the ancient cathedral as she kneels and ponders what to say. Why did you let Dad die before I was old enough to know him? Where were you when Mum fell to pieces? Did you get a kick out of watching her shrivel into a lunatic? And how could you have let Alfred suffer the way he did? Did I ever miss a Christmas or Easter? "Believe," they said. "Have faith," they said. I believed; I had faith. Funeral after funeral, I stood with all the others, saying, "I know that my redeemer liveth." Well, where were you when I needed you?

      "What choice have you left me? You've let me down," Minnie says aloud, her voice rising in a crescendo of anger. "I hate you now." She pauses and tries to rein in her feelings, but it's too late and she runs down the aisle with tears streaming down her face as she turns to shout at the altar, "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

      Ronnie Stapleton, forced out of the Copper Kettle by impecuniosity, is slouching past the cathedral in search of someone to scam for a fix, when the distraught old woman emerges into the rain. The young layabout sums up the situation in three strides and is already high on the proceeds of Minnie's purse when a spoiler steps in.

      "Are you okay, ma'am?" asks a concerned young mother, sensing Minnie's distress, and Stapleton is forced to back off.

      Minnie scurries away with a mumbled "Yes, I'll be all right." But the young woman puts Stapleton's rapid retreat in context, and takes careful note of the hand-painted swastika on the back of his jacket as he slinks away.

      "Remind me to take Minnie a piece of wedding cake," says Daphne as the happy couple cross hands and slice into the multilayered confection at the Berkeley. "She'll be sorry she missed this."

      "I doubt it," replies Bliss as he joins the applause for the newlyweds. "This is pretty small potatoes compared to the adventure you two have cooked up."

      "Did I mention the Orinoco…" starts Daphne, but Bliss shushes her as the groom's brother coughs into the microphone and brings the room to silence.

      "It is my duty as the best man at this wedding…" he begins and is met with a concerted groan from the floor. "All right… All I'm going to say is that when the Commissioner called for better co-operation between his senior officers and the legal profession, I don't think he had bonking in mind."

      The rain has intensified as Minnie sets her sights on her final destination — Westchester's stately railway station with its elegant glass canopy supported on cast-iron pillars — and she is so focused on the journey ahead that she takes no notice of Stapleton's shadowy figure lurking behind her as she skirts the brightly illuminated main entrance and heads for the goods yard.

      "So… Chief Inspector. Have I missed the best bits?" asks an unwelcome voice as the speeches end, and Bliss spins to find Chief Superintendent Michael Edwards on his shoulder.

      "Oh. You made it, sir," says Bliss, trying hard to keep disappointment out of his tone.

      "I thought I should show the flag, Dave. Esprit de corps and all that. I just hope I'm not too late to toast the happy couple."

      "Esprit de corps," echoes Bliss sourly as Edwards paints on a smile and makes his way towards the newlyweds.

      Inspector Williams creeps up behind Bliss, saying, "He's

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