LITMIR.BIZ

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attempt, which was to endeavour to show by various attitudes that any dog would have a second walk if only he had an owner who could see things in that light. Disappointed in this effort, he went down the stairs and proceeded to bark loudly and make every pretence of being about to make a sharp snap bite at a tousled-haired girl who was wielding a Hoover. He did not like the Hoover, and he objected to Tuppence having a lengthy conversation with Beatrice.

      ‘Oh, don’t let him bite me,’ said Beatrice.

      ‘He won’t bite you,’ said Tuppence. ‘He only pretends he’s going to.’

      ‘Well, I think he’ll really do it one day,’ said Beatrice. ‘By the way, madam, I wonder if I could speak to you for a moment.’

      ‘Oh,’ said Tuppence. ‘You mean—’

      ‘Well, you see, madam, I’ve got a problem.’

      ‘I thought that was it,’ said Tuppence. ‘What sort of problem is it? And, by the way, do you know any family here or anyone who lived here at one time called Jordan?’

      ‘Jordan now. Well, I can’t really say. There was the Johnsons, of course, and there was—ah yes, one of the constables was a Johnson. And so was one of the postmen. George Johnson. He was a friend of mine.’ She giggled.

      ‘You never heard of a Mary Jordan who died?’

      Beatrice merely looked bewildered—and she shook her head and went back to the assault.

      ‘About this problem, madam?’

      ‘Oh yes, your problem.’

      ‘I hope you don’t mind my asking you, madam, but it’s put me in a queer position, you see, and I don’t like—’

      ‘Well, if you can tell me quickly,’ said Tuppence. ‘I’ve got to go out to a coffee morning.’

      ‘Oh yes. At Mrs Barber’s, isn’t it?’

      ‘That’s right,’ said Tuppence. ‘Now what’s the problem?’

      ‘Well, it’s a coat. Ever such a nice coat it was. At Simmonds it was, and I went in and tried it on and it seemed to me very nice, it did. Well, there was one little spot on the skirt, you know, just round near the hem but that didn’t seem to me would matter much. Anyway, well, it—er—’

      ‘Yes,’ said Tuppence, ‘it what?’

      ‘It made me see why it was so inexpensive, you see. So I got it. And so that was all right. But when I got home I found there was a label on it and instead of saying £3.70 it was labelled £6. Well, ma’am, I didn’t like to do that, so I didn’t know what to do. I went back to the shop and I took the coat with me—I thought I’d better take it back and explain, you see, that I hadn’t meant to take it away like that and then you see the girl who sold it to me—very nice girl she is, her name is Gladys, yes, I don’t know what her other name is—but anyway she was ever so upset, she was, and I said, “Well, that’s all right, I’ll pay extra,” and she said, “No, you can’t do that because it’s all entered up.” You see—you do see what I mean?’

      ‘Yes, I think I see what you mean,’ said Tuppence.

      ‘And so she said, “Oh you can’t do that, it will get me into trouble.”’

      ‘Why should it get her into trouble?’

      ‘Well, that’s what I felt. I mean to say, well, I mean it’d been sold to me for less and I’d brought it back and I didn’t see why it could put her in trouble. She said if there was any carelessness like that and they hadn’t noticed the right ticket and they’d charged me the wrong price, as likely as not she’d get the sack for it.’

      ‘Oh, I shouldn’t think that would happen,’ said Tuppence. ‘I think you were quite right. I don’t see what else you could do.’

      ‘Well, but there it is, you see. She made such a fuss and she was beginning to cry and everything, so I took the coat away again and now I don’t know whether I’ve cheated the shop or whether—I don’t really know what to do.’

      ‘Well,’ said Tuppence, ‘I really think I’m too old to know what one ought to do nowadays because everything is so odd in shops. The prices are odd and everything is difficult. But if I were you and you want to pay something extra, well perhaps you’d better give the money to what’s-her-name—Gladys something. She can put the money in the till or somewhere.’

      ‘Oh well, I don’t know as I’d like to do that because she might keep it, you see. I mean, if she kept the money, oh well, I mean it wouldn’t be difficult would it, because I suppose I’ve stolen the money and I wouldn’t have stolen it really. I mean then it would have been Gladys who stole it, wouldn’t it, and I don’t know that I trust her all that much. Oh dear.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Tuppence, ‘life is very difficult, isn’t it? I’m terribly sorry, Beatrice, but I really think you’ve got to make up your own mind about this. If you can’t trust your friend—’

      ‘Oh, she’s not exactly a friend. I only buy things there. And she’s ever so nice to talk to. But I mean, well, she’s not exactly a friend, you know. I think she had a little trouble once before the last place she was in. You know, they said she kept back money on something she’d sold.’

      ‘Well in that case,’ said Tuppence, in slight desperation, ‘I shouldn’t do anything.’

      The firmness of her tone was such that Hannibal came into the consultation. He barked loudly at Beatrice and took a running leap at the Hoover which he considered one of his principal enemies. ‘I don’t trust that Hoover,’ said Hannibal. ‘I’d like to bite it up.’

      ‘Oh, be quiet, Hannibal. Stop barking. Don’t bite anything or anyone,’ said Tuppence. ‘I’m going to be awfully late.’

      She rushed out of the house.

      ‘Problems,’ said Tuppence, as she went down the hill and along Orchard Road. Going along there, she wondered as she’d done before if there’d ever been an orchard attached to any of the houses. It seemed unlikely nowadays.

      Mrs Barber received her with great pleasure. She brought forward some very delicious-looking éclairs.

      ‘What lovely things,’ said Tuppence. ‘Did you get them at Betterby’s?’

      Betterby’s was the local confectionery shop.

      ‘Oh no, my aunt made them. She’s wonderful, you know. She does wonderful things.’

      ‘Éclairs are very difficult things to make,’ said Tuppence. ‘I could never succeed with them.’

      ‘Well, you have to get a particular kind of flour. I believe that’s the secret of it.’

      The ladies drank coffee and talked about the difficulties of certain kinds of home cookery.

      ‘Miss Bolland was talking about you the other day, Mrs Beresford.’

      ‘Oh?’ said Tuppence. ‘Really? Bolland?’

      ‘She lives next to the vicarage. Her family has lived here a long time. She was telling us how she’d come and stayed here when she was a child. She used to look forward to it. She said, because there were such wonderful gooseberries in the garden. And greengage trees too. Now that’s a thing you practically never see nowadays, not real greengages. Something else called gage plums or something, but they’re not a bit the same to taste.’

      The ladies talked about things in the fruit line which did not taste like the things used to, which they remembered from their childhood.

      ‘My great-uncle had greengage trees,’ said Tuppence.

      ‘Oh yes. Is that the one who was a canon at Anchester? Canon Henderson used to live there, with his sister, I believe. Very sad it was. She was eating seed cake one day, you know, and one of the seeds got the wrong

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