Theft on Thursday Read Free

she added politely, and the discomfited man retreated, feeling he had not handled his first foray into church duties all that well.
    Mrs. T-J stepped forward and said that under the circumstances, for one practice only, she should perhaps take charge.

T HREE

    B Y M ONDAY , WHEN L OIS HAD HER WEEKLY MIDDAY meeting with the cleaning team, gossip had spread the news that Gladys had been supplanted by a young music teacher, new to the village, friend of the new vicar, with new plans for the choir. “New” had become a dirty word by the time Sheila and Bridie, Hazel, Enid and Bill assembled in Lois’s office for their meeting.
    “He’ll be lucky to have any choir left, with all his new ideas,” said Hazel with a grin. “All them old tabs’ll be off like a shot.”
    Hazel, daughter of Bridie Reading, pregnant and married to a young farmer, lived in a farm cottage on the Tollervey-Jones estate. Up the road, in Cathanger Mill, Enid Abraham lived alone, coming to terms with a period of relentless family tragedy. Enid had worked hard to smarten up the old mill house, now a listed building, and happily took in bed and breakfast visitors who appreciated the tranquillity of the shady spot, with the old mill wheel and Enid’s chickens clucking about in the yard.
    Neither Hazel nor Enid had any real need to work for New Brooms, but the team had cemented over the years into a tight little group. There had been initial doubts about their one male cleaner. “That Bill Stockbridge won’t last for more than six months, him being a farmer’s son from Yorkshire,” Gran had said when Bill joined the team. But he had proved her wrong. Now he divided his time between cleaning for Lois, and helping out at Charrington’s veterinary practice, where his gentle hands and quiet manner were as useful calving cows as when dusting delicate porcelain in the Tollervey-Joneses’ drawing room.
    “OK, Mum,” said Lois, coming into her office, where Gran had been enjoying a good chewing over the Gladys affair with Bridie and Sheila. Sheila Stratford was one of the original members of the team. Solidly rooted in the area by generations of forebears, she thrived on the circulation of local news. She knew Gladys, of course, and could not conceal her delight that the old bag had had something of a come-uppance at last. “She’s bin in the job far too long,” she said. “I know people who’d rather worship in Waltonby than put up with her dirges on the organ,” she pronounced.
    “Right, Mum,” repeated Lois, sitting down at her desk. “Did you get that message for you to ring Oxfam in Tresham? I expect they want you to do extra hours. Better go and ring them.”
    “I’m going,” said Gran. “And I was anyway, seeing as you’re here now to start the meeting.” There was more than a suggestion of flounce as she left the room.
    “Morning, everybody,” Lois said, looking round at expectant faces. “Now, this new vicar.” They brightened. “No, I don’t want any more gossip about Gladys, or new young choir blokes. Just the cleaning schedules, if you don’t mind. I went to see the vicar, and we’ve agreed one afternoon a week.”
    “I’ve got Wednesday afternoons free, now Mrs. Brown’sgone from Fletching,” said Hazel. She didn’t really fancy the new vicar job for itself, but it could be interesting with all the ructions there were bound to be in the village.
    “Yep, I’d got you down to do it, Hazel.” Lois sifted through her papers. “And Bill, could you do a couple more hours this week at Farnden Hall. Mrs. T-J is having a party to introduce Rev. Rollinson to the nobs, and wants extra help.”
    “Fine,” said Bill. He didn’t mention that he and Rebecca, his long-time partner, had received an invitation. Rebecca taught in nearby Waltonby village school, and was known to be a favourite with Mrs. T-J, who was, of course, on the board of governors of the Church of England school. Some disapproval had been expressed by