Free Dead Heading by Catherine Aird

someone else,’ objected Marilyn.
    ‘I don’t care who it was written by,’ retorted Anna, ‘you’ve still got to get yourself over to Jack Haines’ place and pick up those orchids before tomorrow night.’
    ‘He doesn’t know yet that I’m standing in for old Enid.’
    ‘Then you’ll have to tell him, won’t you?’
    ‘Shall I ring him and let him know it’s me who’s going to be picking them up so that he can get them ready? And then I shan’t have to hang around his place.’
    Anna Sutherland gave an unladylike snort. ‘Those orchids will be all ready and waiting for you when you get there, Marilyn, don’t you worry. Enid would have had his guts for garters if they weren’t and he knows she would – just as well as we do. I expect he’s as frightened of her as everyone else.’
    ‘Except you, Anna,’ said Marilyn Potts, ‘except you.’ She looked up and caught a curious look on her friend’s face. ‘You’re not afraid of anyone, are you?’
    Anna’s face relaxed. ‘Not of anything in trousers, anyway.’
    ‘Just as well,’ said her friend drily, ‘because there’s one of them coming up the path now.’
    Anna Sutherland looked over Marilyn’s shoulder at the approaching figure. ‘I wonder what our Anthony wants today?’
    ‘Plants, I hope, and plenty of them,’ said Marilyn vigorously.
    It was indeed plants that the landscape designer was after. Anthony Berra arrived waving a list. ‘Just checking if you’ve got any of these,’ he said after punctiliously greeting them both.
    ‘Not if they’re orchids,’ said Marilyn bitterly. ‘We’ve lost the lot.’
    ‘Not you too?’ Berra launched into a graphic description of Jack Haines’ losses.
    ‘How very odd,’ said Anna Sutherland. She frowned. ‘Has some nutter got something against orchids, I wonder? Or him and us, perhaps?’
    Marilyn Potts stayed silent while Berra went on, ‘It also means I’ve lost all the plants Jack was growing for me for the Lingards as well.’ The landscape designer grimaced. ‘And you know what Charmian Lingard’s like.’
    ‘More money than sense, that woman,’ pronounced Anna.
    ‘Thinks money will buy anything,’ chimed in Marilyn. She sniffed. ‘Well, all I can say is that she hasn’t lived long enough yet to learn that it won’t.’
    The sniffing became more pronounced and with tears welling up in Marilyn’s eyes, Anthony Berra hurled himself into the conversation. ‘Well, it seems that it’s bad luck all round then.’
    ‘Perhaps it isn’t just bad luck,’ said Anna Sutherland slowly.
    ‘Well, it certainly isn’t a coincidence,’ agreed Berra. ‘It can’t be. Not two nurseries of orchids in one night. It makes you wonder what it could be that you and Jack have in common – besides growing orchids, that is.’
    ‘Norman Potts,’ said Norman’s erstwhile wife, taking a deep breath. ‘That’s what.’ 
    ‘Of course, Jack’s stepson!’ he whistled. ‘I’d never thought of him,’ he confessed. ‘Ought to have done, I suppose, seeing he used to live and work there when Jack’s wife was alive.’
    ‘My once-upon-a-time husband,’ responded Marilyn, whose mind seemed still bound up with fairy tales.
    ‘But why should he or anyone else want to attack orchids?’ asked Berra, looking mystified. ‘I can’t imagine any reason myself but then I’m not a psychologist.’
    ‘If you ask me,’ said Anna, ‘reason doesn’t come into it.’
    ‘Is he pathological about them or something, then?’
    ‘The only thing Norman Potts is pathological about is Marilyn here,’ declared Anna Sutherland astringently.
    ‘What about Jack Haines then?’ asked Berra, still puzzled. ‘Norman can’t be pathological about Jack’s orchids too, surely?’
    ‘Can’t he just?’ said Anna. ‘He always was anti-Jack after Jack married Norman’s mother and he hasn’t changed that I know of.’
    ‘All I know is that Norman went over to Pelling a week or so back to see Jack