Free Theft on Thursday by Ann Purser Page A

try to go along. It’d cheer me up.”
    “You are certainly
not
going down there to a cold church, standing on a hard floor for hours! For God’s sake, Mum, use your famous common sense. Jamie can take an apology.”
    But when time for practice came, Jamie rang Lois on his mobile to say he and Annabelle had missed the bus from Tresham, and they couldn’t get back until later. “Oh, sod it!” Lois said. She was tired, and looking forward to a quiet evening. “Can’t you ring Sandy? Oh, all right, I’ll go down and tell them. But just be a bit more responsible in future.” She banged the telephone down, and pulled on her jacket. “Shan’t be long,” she called out, and marched off down the darkening street.
    The lights were on in the church, and Lois walked smartly up the path. “Watch out, missus!” said a voice from the shadows. It was Cyril. “There’s a bit of broken paving by the door,” he added. “Frost, or summat. Don’t want you goin’ arse over tip, do we.” His chesty chuckle masked the sound of voices warming up.
    “Thanks, Cyril,” she said, and tried to move on, but he blocked her way. “Didn’t know you was in the choir,” he said. “Thought it was your mother. Now, there’s a lovely woman.”
    “Pity I don’t take after her, then, Cyril,” said Lois, and edged past him into the church.
    “Ain’t she better?” he called after her.
    “Yes, thanks,” she yelled back, and carried on into the chilly interior.
    All heads turned towards her as she walked up the aisle.
    “Mrs. Meade!” said Sandy, with a broad smile of welcome. “How splendid! Now, are you soprano or alto?”
    “More like frog,” said Lois flatly. “I’ve just come to bring apologies from Mum and Jamie. Mum’s still poorly, and Jamie’s stuck in Tresham. They said sorry and they’d be here next week.”
    Before Sandy could reply, Mrs. T-J burst out, “Stuck in Tresham? What d’you mean? How are they getting back? I don’t want Annabelle put at risk in that place at night!”
    Lois turned on her a full basilisk stare, and said “She’s not at risk. She’s with Jamie, and he’s quite capable oflooking after her. They’re getting a lift, an’ will be back about half-past nine.”
    She turned to go, but Sandy said in his best pleading voice, “Oh, do hold on a moment, Mrs. Meade. We’re so short on numbers tonight … wouldn’t you do us an enormous favour and sing a couple of hymns with us? Just this once?”
    Lois hesitated. It was not true that she had a voice like a frog. She knew she could sing. Music was the only lesson she enjoyed at school, and several times she’d done solos at school concerts.
    Sandy pounced. “There, look, if you could just sit in the alto pew, and we’ll go straight into ‘Lead us, Heavenly Father, lead us.’ ” This had been a regular at school, and Lois was surprised to discover she could remember the alto line. The old heady feeling of singing out lustily in a large space came back to her.
    Three hymns later, they paused, whilst Sandy looked up a modern tune in the gold book. “You sing lovely, Mrs. Meade,” said Sharon shyly. The altos were sitting in front of the organ, and Lois had been aware of music being played very well behind her. She was about to say something complimentary in return, when Sandy Mackerras suddenly dropped the book, and bent over double. “Ahhhh!” It was a cry of agony, and Sharon was out of the organ seat in seconds, bending over him and holding his hand.
    Without stopping to think, Lois ran out of the church at speed and through the vicarage gate. She banged at the door, thanking God there was a light, indicating the vicar was at home. “Quick,” she said, as he opened up, “come quickly. Sandy’s collapsed. Looks like that stomach bug again.”
    The two of them ran side by side, and then Lois allowed Brian to go ahead up the aisle to where Sandy lay stretchedout on the floor, with a kneeler under his head. He was very