EPISODE FORTY-THREE


As soon as they had sat down in Café Nero with their Cappuccinos, Savita shook her head, as if anticipating Nicky’s objection to how she had handled the Malcolm situation.
‘I’m not changing my mind about that man,’ she said.
‘But, Savita, we can’t destroy his life.’
‘Don’t tell me you feel sorry for him.’
‘Well...yes, I do.’
Savita blew on her coffee then took a tentative sip.
‘The punishment,’ Nicky went on, ‘hardly fits the crime. So, okay, the man’s a bully. Does that mean we have to totally destroy his life? It’s probably true what he said: I doubt if he’ll get another job at his age. Especially if he walks out for no apparent reason. And what’s he going to tell his wife? My God!  He’ll be suicidal. He might even kill himself. Do we want that on our consciences?’
Savita stared thoughtfully at the froth on her coffee.  After a while she looked directly into Nicky’s eyes and said, ‘I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll go along with his offer of good appraisals, and maybe a pay rise, and having an easy life at work...’
Nicky sighed. ‘Thank God for that.’
‘Providing,’ Savita emphasised, ‘that he doesn’t find another whipping boy.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘I mean, the leopard doesn’t change his spots. Malcolm will leave us alone but he’ll find someone else to pick on. So here’s the deal. If we find out he’s bullying someone else, we proceed with plan A. We destroy him. If he behaves himself, fair enough, we leave him alone – apart from having an easy time of it ourselves, of course.’
Nicky nodded thoughtfully as she considered this. ‘So do we tell him? About what happens if he picks on somebody else, I mean?’
‘Definitely not,’ snapped Savita. ‘What is the most common characteristic of bullies?’
Nicky shook her head and waited for the answer.
‘They don’t bully people in front of witnesses.’
‘So,’ said Nicky, ‘how will we know if he’s picking on someone else?’
‘We both know,’ Savita replied, ‘from bitter experience, how miserable life becomes. If we see anyone looking depressed, we ask them what’s wrong. Show some concern. They’ll be glad to get it off their chest. And if it turns out to be Malcolm...well, that’s it! He’s finished. Is that a deal?’
Savita thrust a hand out towards Nicky.
‘Deal!’ said Nicky, and they shook hands on it.

*

‘I love you,’ said Mike.
Maggie ignored him and thumbed through the diary pages of her Filofax. ‘What are you doing on Friday the seventeenth?’
‘Becoming an entry in your busy schedule,’ Mike replied huffily.
‘Don’t get heavy, Mike.’
‘Well, I thought it was supposed to be men who are supposed to treat sex casually.’
She scribbled in her diary, snapped it shut, and started to push him towards the front door. ‘Time you were off.’
‘Is that all you can say?’
‘What d’you want me to say?’
‘Didn’t you hear me say “I love you”?’
She swung open the front door. ‘Oh, grow up, Mike!’
He opened his mouth to speak but she cut in. ‘Did you buy your wife those flowers? ’He looked at her blankly. ‘No, I didn’t think you had.’
She slammed the door shut behind him.
‘Women!’ he shouted at her through the mottled glass. ‘I’ll never understand them.’

*

Dave, whose performances at Cromer ran for five days from Tuesday to Saturday, had driven Mary and the boys home to his house on Sunday, so that they could be back at school first thing Monday morning, having only missed one week following half term.
On Monday lunchtime, he was sitting in the kitchen with Mary, drinking tea and studying the form in the racing pages of his newspaper. ‘Just popping out to see a man about a nag,’ he suddenly announced, and rushed towards the back door, looking at his watch.
Mary looked up from the cook book she was reading.  ‘Dead cert, is it?’
Dave laughed. ‘Something like that.’
As soon as he had gone, she became restless.  He had left his newspaper behind and she noticed he had marked at least six horses in three races. She thought he would probably be out of the house for a good hour, at least. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. Time to satisfy her curiosity.
She went out into the hall, pulled open the hall table and rummaged around until she found the key to the third bedroom. She hurried upstairs and pushed the key into the lock, nervously enjoying the film-like drama of the situation, which was a welcome relief from what had become a boring day.
The key turned easily and she pushed open the door. It was dark. Heavy curtains were drawn closed. She felt for the light switch and clicked it on. The room, lit by a naked light bulb, blazed with synthetic brightness.
Mary stared, frowning, unable to fully comprehend what she was seeing. Then she felt a movement behind her. She swung round just as his hand reached out to grab her..
‘Dave!’
In his other hand he held the rolled-up newspaper that he had forgotten and come back for. How could she have been so stupid?
‘You just couldn’t keep your nose out of it, could you?’
He tightened his grip on her arm.
‘Dave!’ she cried. ‘You’re hurting me.’

IN EPISODE FORTY-FOUR

Mary discovers the secret of Dave’s locked room.


Episode Forty-Four  Homepage