Free Fear on Friday by Ann Purser

manage a bit longer.”
    “Huh! That’s what you always say,” Rupert shouted at her. “If it wasn’t for me, nothing would ever get done! And your son takes after you. Lazy so-and-so … he spends all day gossiping with that girlin the cleaners’ shop opposite. Pity they ever look over that place. And now if I phone, it’s Hazel this and Hazel that, and nothing about how business is going or any ideas for improving it!”
    He sat down suddenly, and Daisy went over swiftly to him. She took his hand. “You really mustn’t take on,” she said. “It’s not good for you at your age. Now, let’s think what we can do.” She didn’t argue with him over Fergus, having learned long ago that this was useless. It had been a disappointment to her that her only son had done nothing more ambitious than working in his father’s shop. He wasn’t stupid, and could have gone on with his education. She blamed Rupert, though had never said so to him. He had chivvied the boy, never leaving him alone to find his own way, and in the end he had taken the easiest option, following in his father’s dubious footsteps.
    They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Daisy said, “What we need is someone with influence. Someone who can put in a good word. You know, the old boys’ network an’ all that.”
    “So who do you suggest?” said Rupert sourly.
    “I think you know who I’m thinking of,” said Daisy, and grinned. “A certain person who has enjoyed our services—mine especially—for years, and still does. A certain person in a position of importance in the rapidly expanding town of Tresham? Are you with me, dear?”
    Rupert stared at her. “You mean Howard Jenkinson?”
    She nodded.
    “Why should he do anything for us?” said Rupert. “He’s got everything he needs in life, has recently retired to a cushy life of golf and holidays, and has more money in the bank than most of us can count. He’d not lift a finger for us.”
    “Ah, now that’s where you might be wrong,” said Daisy wisely. “Just think a minute, Rupert. Yes, he’s got everything his heart desires, and what he values most of all is his Mayor of Tresham chain of office. Now, I’m not stealing a gold chain, but I am suggesting we could drop a few careless words here and there which would make his elevated position very shaky indeed. Are you still with me?”
    “You’re talking about blackmail!” said Rupert. “No, no, no! I’ll certainly not stoop to that!”
    Daisy was unruffled. “No need for you to do anything,” she said. “I’ll do the stooping. Leave it to me, dear. I shall enjoy myself,” she added, and burst out laughing. “I might be a little out of practice, but it won’t take long to brush up the old skills. You concentrate on the changes Planning wants, and leave the rest to me.”
    Rupert looked at her. Her neat body was in good shape, her hair carefully coloured and cut in a youthful style, and her clothes—though perfectly respectable—perhaps not quite so conservative as her village contemporaries. A low-necked blouse with frilly sleeves, her skirt slit so that it showed her still trim knees. All quite subdued, but a hint there of secret pleasures? Oh, for heavens’ sake, Rupert said to himself. They were a couple of middle-aged fogies. Whatever it was that Daisy had in mind would be decorous and trouble free. He decided to let her get on with it. He’d always respected her judgement in the past, and had no reason to doubt her now.
    T HINGS WERE CERTAINLY MORE CHEERFUL IN THE SMALL office of New Brooms in Sebastopol Street. Lois had called in to see Hazel and pick up any new client details. She also wanted to see if Hazel had any information on the applicant for the new cleaner job. All Lois knew so far was that she was Sheila’s niece and wanted to get out of a bureaucratic job.
    Hazel looked at the application and frowned. “Don’t think I know her at all,” she said. “Susanna Jacob … Posh name. I hope