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That feeling again that her own trust in something was broken. It brought with it a pain deep in her chest this time, echoes of a persistent ache. She remembered sitting on the edge of a double bed crying, pressing the ring on the chain around her neck so hard it dug into her hand. Her weddingring, she presumed. She’d taken it off to signify the end of her marriage maybe. But that didn’t tie in with why her fingers reached for it often to bring comfort.
The fish and chips were wonderful, the batter crisp, the fish white and flaky, the bread thin and spread with real butter.
‘Teddy doesn’t usually throw things at women in the street, least of all a dog’s dollops,’ said Marielle. ‘I did want to point that out.’
‘He must have a terrific aim though, to have landed it so perfectly on that woman’s hair. What a talent,’ replied Sabrina. Both women smiled.
‘It’s all part of a much bigger story,’ said Marielle. ‘My son is about to be driven out of business. Next door to him was an empty shop. He and the newsagent on the other side own their properties, but the rest of the row are leased from the council. There was an agreement in place that none of them could trade in direct competition with each other. But the council have reneged on that and are allowing an Italian restaurant to take it over, one from a relatively new chain that seems to have set up in Yorkshire. Not only that, but they’re attempting to take our car park away from us for them to use, digging up some nonsense about the legality of the wording on the deeds which might allow them to serve us with a compulsory purchase order. Even if it’s rubbish, it will cost us money to fight it and we’ll need a specialist solicitor. We can’t get any help from our councillor, the one who got all the votes by promising to serve his ward. No surprise really as he happens to be the brother-in-law of the deputy leader of the council, James Stirling, although he seems to be more in charge than the leader from what I’ve heard. He and the council cabinet are just one big oldboys’ club and no one would ever dare vote against him on anything. You met Stirling’s wife this morning, along with his defecating spaniel.’
‘A chain, you say? Which one?’
‘Ciaoissimo. Have you heard of them?’
Ciaoissimo.Why did that name ring a bell? Why did it trigger off an image of herself sitting at a table, eating a sandwich, reading about them? And why did the memory come with a sensation that wasn’t particularly pleasant?
‘Of course, Councillor Stirling will get the police on to Teddy if he hasn’t already. I have no idea why he and his cronies are being so bloody hostile. I tell you, if I ever find out they’ve been given a backhander by Ciaoissimo, I’ll go for their jugulars. All we’ve heard from them by way of an excuse is that they want to encourage healthy competition. It’s a travesty. They’re making things up as they go along.’
‘Councillors have to have declared any business interests, surely,’ said Sabrina. ‘They can’t manipulate and overturn decisions to fill their own pockets.’
‘It seems they can do what they want if they cover their tracks well enough. There has to be some murky secret, but how can you find out? Stirling could hide behind a spiral staircase he’s that twisted. The dirty tricks campaign against us started with the decision to install Ciaoissimo next door. You should read the vile reviews about us on the internet that have suddenly sprung up. There has to be a connection.’
A man’s voice in Sabrina’s head:Forget about this one.
‘Are you okay, Sabrina?’ asked Marielle. Sabrina looked suddenly far away, tangled up in thoughts. ‘Sabrina?’
Sabrina snapped back into the here and now.
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said.
As they left the Mother of Cod a police car passed them and Marielle said a very heartfelt ‘Oh no,’ because she had an inkling where it was heading.
‘Do you mind if I just check…’ she asked Sabrina, quickening her pace.
‘Of course.’ Sabrina fell into step with her.
Sure enough, when they got to Teddy’s, the police car was parked outside and Teddy was talking to the two policemen occupants on the pavement away from the sight of his diners. Flick was also out with him, putting in her two penn’orth.
‘How long have you known me, Craig? Am I the sort of person to throw turds at women’s heads without good reason?’
Marielle recognised Craig immediately. He’d been at catering college with her son before deciding to change tack and join the police. The older policeman was Constable Travis; everyone in the town knew him, respected him and liked him. He was a solid, fair, seasoned copper that they sent into schools when they needed someone to make warning speeches and actually be listened to.
‘I hear what you’re saying, Teddy, I really do,’ Craig was scratching his head. His hands were clearly tied and he was trying to wriggle out of the binding.
‘Dog fouling is against the law and the council give a fifty-quid fixed penalty and that does not exclude councillors’ wives,’ said Flick. ‘This is not the first time she’s done it either. In fact she’s making quite a habit of it. It just happened to be the first time we caught herin flagrante delicto.’
‘She said itwasthe first time and she hadn’t noticed the dog had done it,’ said Craig, which caused Flick and Teddy both to burst into laughter.
‘She says she always clears up and showed us the poo bagholder attached to her lead as… evidence,’ Travis said in a way that suggested he was sceptical of her account.
‘Ah, well if it’s evidence that you want,’ said Flick, fumbling around on her phone, sweeping the screen with her thumb until she found what she was searching for. She held it up to them. ‘Here’s a film of some CCTV footage.’
Teddy flashed her a look of amazement before he viewed the film with the policemen. It was of Wendy Stirling walking slowly past the restaurant, loitering, doubling back, clearly giving her spaniel every opportunity to empty his bowels. It looked crystal clear that she was very aware of what was happening, staring into space just after the dog had crunched itself into position. The footage continued until Mrs Stirling started threatening and flapping her sullied hand around.
‘One hundred and eighteee,’ said Craig, clearly impressed.
Travis turned to Teddy. ‘I think that’s plainly an offence on the part of Mrs Stirling. Maybe, Teddy, if you stick to collecting evidence in this way rather than lobbing spaniel shit at women who think they’re above the law, it would make the situation so much more clear-cut. Neither of us wants to arrest you. Stirling can cause trouble in an empty house; don’t give him bullets for his gun, lad.’
‘Thank you,’ said Teddy, appreciating what they were saying to him.
