Bad Hair Day

A Fast Buck

A Fast Buck“You what?” Debbie growled. Kit could hear her teeth grinding through the telephone. “I’m not giving him his money back.” She sounded determined and Kit winced. “It’s bad enough that he’s cancelled the next order.”

“It might not come to that. Mrs Rashid just mentioned it was the second one to explode. I wondered if you’d had any other reports?”

“I don’t care! I’m not giving any money back. It’s not my problem. The tubes were sold as seen.”

“But if there’s a problem,” Kit began. Debbie interrupted her.

“This is all your fault. You can give them their money back for all I care. It was your mistake and now I’m paying the price. I have a garage full of s*x lube and that’s down to you.”

“That’s not fair! It was a simple error and I apologised. I intended to get rid of the lube myself. My mother offered me a loan so I could pay you back. You demanded all the product and said you’d take care of it. I tried to help you out by selling a load to Mr Rashid, but I didn’t foresee you would hike the price.”

“It’s supply and demand,” Debbie snapped. “There’s a shortage, but only for as long as the next shipment takes to get here. I need to get rid of what’s left in my garage before that arrives otherwise, I’m stuck with it. Raising the price a little at least means I can cover my credit card bill if I don’t sell it all.”

“Of course, you’re not stuck with it!” Kit argued. “How do you work that out? You’ll always be able to make your money back, even if you add on the import duty. But hiking the price too high will make it less attractive. Besides, I thought the Curlies were snapping it up fast.”

Debbie’s tone became sarcastic. “I told you, I have a credit card bill to pay. You can tell your megalomaniac shopkeeper that he’s not getting any money back from me!” A sharp click heralded the end of the call.

Kit gave a sigh and shook her head. Guilt blossomed outward from the centre of her chest. Debbie was right; it was Kit’s mistake. Her panic over the lube shortage had caused it. Although she’d offered to put it right, she’d been relieved when Debbie had demanded the lube be delivered to her garage and said she’d take care of it herself. Kit suspected Debbie had seen a way to make a fast buck and hoped it didn’t backfire and cover them both in the process.

The journey home took far longer than usual as Kit planned what she might say to the boys. A tractor travelled at a snail’s pace despite the queue building behind it. The driver ignored three opportunities to pull to the side until an angry man in front of Kit decided to lean on his horn. Raki’s sudden disappearance created a strange knot in the pit of her stomach. A creature of habit, Raki always told one of them his plans. Since Jerry’s arrival at the flat, the two boys had bonded enough to start cooking together and sharing the cost. If Raki had requested Jerry’s famous spaghetti Bolognese and not turned up, then it was cause for alarm.

Kit used her indicator before turning left off the main road and heading home on the narrow lane which passed her house. She pursed her lips and made a decision.

The officer manning the telephone at the local police watch house answered on the third ring. He breathed out a bored sigh at Kit’s enquiry. “As I explained before, Miss Maguire, it’s not uncommon for adults to go walkabout for a variety of reasons. It’s still too soon for us to start a manhunt. Have you spoken to his parents as I suggested or tried to contact someone at the university?”

“Raki’s parents are travelling America at the moment,” Kit conceded. “They attended a science conference at the start of the month. They don’t have social media and I only have their home phone number. Is there any way that you could contact your counterparts in America?”

The officer masked a snort of hilarity and moderated his tone. “Look, with respect, Miss, he’s just your flatmate. It’s unlikely he would tell you all his plans. I suggest you try the university or wait for his parents to come home. I’d be more concerned about whether he’s paid his share of the rent and bills because if he hasn’t, then that’s a whole different set of problems.”

Kit offered polite noises of thanks, which she didn’t really mean before ending the call. She hadn’t considered the issue of rent and tried to push the new concern from her mind.

Her Volkswagen bug gave a happy shudder as Kit bounced it up the sloped kerb of her driveway and manoeuvred it around Jerry’s old Mustang and Langdon’s much newer station wagon. She settled on the gravelled area just under the lounge window and sat with her hands resting on the steering wheel for a moment.

Her driver’s door popped open and made her start. A hand appeared in her peripheral vision. “How was work at the chalk face?” Jerry’s full lips broke into a smile as he leaned down next to her. His dark hair mussed in the breeze. Tall and imposing, he oozed a sense of safety and competency. “Anything exciting to tell?” He took Kit’s handbag from her outstretched arm and waited as she stepped free of the vehicle, then he closed the car door behind her with a click. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her plimsolls dangling from the laces in her fingers. “Oh. That looks intriguing.”

Kit waved a hand in dismissal and followed him up the porch steps. “My day involved being run over by a woman in a mobility scooter, a tube of exploding s*x lube, and a dirty old man who needs to exercise more self-control.” Kit dumped her plimsolls outside the front door and followed Jerry into the house. She blinked against the darkness inside after the bright sunshine which dappled the lawn. “I almost forgot,” she added, “I threw Alec out of the shop again. He can’t seem to get the message.” A sudden yawn occupied her facial muscles and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, it’s been a long day,” she conceded.

Walking to the front window, she looked out at the neat lawn. A young man sauntered past, hands shoved in his jeans pockets and a hood pulled up over his head. A bright red beard glinted in the sunshine. Kit frowned. “That’s weird.”

“What is?” Langdon appeared from the kitchen, a steaming mug of coffee in his left hand. He’d removed his uniform jacket, but his dog collar and black shirt still marked him as a cleric. A blonde fringe danced against the flick of his eyelashes and the sleeves of his shirt strained against muscular biceps.

Kit shook her head. “A guy walking up the lane dressed for winter.” She shrugged. “Nobody walks this far out of town.”

“Do you want me to have a word with Alec?” Langdon offered. “His behaviour is becoming more than a little stalkerish.”

Kit smiled at the suggestion but wrinkled her nose. She imagined the kind of word Langdon might favour and sensed it involved a lecture on appropriateness and a great deal of talk about repentance. “He’ll get the message eventually,” she said, though her brain reminded her he hadn’t managed it yet. “He’s not used to people turning down his offer.”

“I can help him with that,” Jerry suggested. The underlying growl in his voice sounded ominous and hinted at more than a conversation.

“It’s fine,” Kit said. “I appreciate both of you very much and if it gets unbearable, I will definitely ask for your help. But we have a bigger problem right now and I don’t know where to turn to next.” She threw herself into her reading chair and flicked on a lamp beside the tall bookcase. It seemed ridiculous with the bright afternoon sunlight streaming through the front window and glinting off the roof of her yellow car, but it offered her a sense of comfort as she pulled her legs up beneath her. Langdon settled himself on the wide couch opposite and Jerry slumped down next to him.

“Meeting in session,” Langdon said. He brushed his blonde fringe from his eyes and blinked as though preparing to chair a meeting of his church deacons. Jerry grinned and bit his lower lip. Kit felt the humour pass her by for once.

“I’m lost,” she admitted. “I just tried the police station again and the local cops aren’t interested. We need to find him ourselves somehow. His parents are away and no one else cares.”

“What about his rent?” Always practical, Jerry used his ex-lawyer’s mind to begin with the evidence. “Raki knows Kit’s situation with the mortgage. He knows she won’t afford the payments unless we stay on top of the rent. If he planned to go away, he would set up an automatic payment, so she didn’t fall behind.”

“Good point!” Kit’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think to check the flat account.”

“I’ll do it.” Jerry reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. His fingers moved across the keypad at speed as he pulled up the shared bank account into which each member placed money ready for rent and upcoming bills. Kit held her breath, only releasing it as Jerry looked up and gave a slow shake of his head. “Nothing,” he concluded. His fingers tapped against his thigh. “I know he’s absent-minded, but he wouldn’t forget this kind of stuff.”

“Why didn’t he set up automatic payments, anyway?” Langdon shook his head. “It’s really easy to do and Raki’s cleverer than all three of us put together.”

“I told him not to worry,” Kit admitted. “He went overdrawn a couple of times last year because his housing benefit or his student allowance hit his account late. I usually give him a couple of days leeway after the due date and he’s always paid me back. It’s a little tighter now that I need to make the mortgage payment on time, but there’s still a week’s grace and so I haven’t worried. I trust him. In all the time we’ve lived together, it’s never been a problem.” Kit’s teeth gnawed on her lower lip. She didn’t dare contemplate the mortgage payment due at the end of the month.

“We’ll help you cover it.” Jerry spoke into Kit’s thoughts as though he’d read her mind. The horrified look on Langdon’s face showed he hadn’t discussed it with him first. With a huge effort of will, the prudent vicar forced himself to agree with his curate in the interests of flat harmony. A slight tick in his left cheek told Kit he didn’t like it.

She swallowed, reluctant to accept their help but lacking any other possible solution. “Thank you.” She lowered her voice and her tone sounded sad. “If for some reason Raki doesn’t return, I’ll pay you back myself.” Her sentence seemed to split the air. All three of the flatmates held their breath as the awful fact presented itself. They hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the possibility that their scatty, lovable friend might never come home. Now, she’d said it and the reality hit them like a hammer blow.

CHAPTER FOUR