Dorothy was
so uneasy about going to the Wellness Centre again that she phoned her
next-door neighbour, Mrs Barker and told her she was sick and would not be well
enough work. She put on an act of having a heavy cold and after having taken the
precaution of peeling onions, her eyes really were watering and she convincingly
performed most of the other common cold symptoms. She would explain her
decision to Cleo as a bout of intense intuition.
Mrs Barker
made sure her husband was out of earshot in the garden before putting on a show
of sympathy.
"I’ll
find a way of getting there today, but you'd better get better so that you can
work on Friday," she advised.
"I
don't think I can get better that fast," sniffed Dorothy. “You’d better
tell them I can’t come at all this week.”
“What about
your new washing machine, Dorothy?”
“It’ll have to wait till I’m better. On second
thoughts, you’d better say I can’t come ever again.”
Neither
Dorothy nor Jane Barker knew that Dorothy was already due for dismissal, so
Jane was puzzled that Dorothy’s resignation was accepted without any protest by
Pamela Norton, who was sure Dorothy had been placed there by Cleo Hartley on DI
Hurley’s instructions. Miss Norton had guessed correctly that Dorothy was
snooping, so she questioned Mrs Barker quite intensively about her relationship
with Dorothy and that of Dorothy and Cleo. Mrs Barker did not smell a rat, but
she was not in the picture about Cleo’s activities and did not believe that
Dorothy was up to detective work so she was convincingly ignorant. Her own relationship
with Dorothy was only on the good neighbour level and she had simply been the
messenger for Dorothy. Pamela Norton told Henry to watch Mrs Barker carefully.
Dorothy
thought she should tell Cleo what she had decided so she got on the phone. She
told Cleo that the alternative to resigning would have been to have Jane Barker
hazarding a loud-mouthed guess at the real reason she had started working at
the Wellness Centre. It was on the cards that Miss Norton had smelt a rat, even
if Jane hadn’t.
"Just
as well you're out of it, Dorothy," was Cleo's reaction. "It wasn't a
good idea, after all."
"I'll
be in Jane Barker's bad books and I’ll have to replace my washing machine just
to prove I wasn’t making it up."
"Play
it cool so that Mrs Barker does not get curious. You could get your old machine
repaired."
“It wasn’t
very broken, Cleo. That was a ploy.”
“It was a
good strategy, Dorothy. I think we should get you a new washing machine from
the agency for all the stress you’ve had.”
“I can
afford one myself, Cleo.”
"That’s
not the point. You put your neck in the noose for me. I want to reward that."
“I don’t
know what to say. The old machine really is a bit broken. The washing always
comes out dripping wet.”
"No
more protests then. Investigations into the goings-on at the Wellness Centre should
go on the back burner for a while, so no guilty conscience, either!"
"But I’m
sure it’s not all as it should be there, Cleo. I'll just walk down the road and
explain it to you, shall I?"
"I’ll
come to you. I need some exercise,” said Cleo.
***
Cleo wasn't
sure how to deal with Dorothy's eagerness to be in on whatever was being
investigated. She wondered if Dorothy could be useful in the Silver case. Did they need a cleaner at the car showroom?
That would get her into the office and she was sure to find something out.
Cleo phoned
the car firm and in a voice not unlike Dorothy's asked if they needed a cleaning
woman, claiming that she thought she had seen an advert to that effect. She was
in luck. They really were looking for a temp while the regular woman was laid
up with a broken arm. After confirming that she would be there next morning at
9 a.m., and giving her name as Nora Smith, Cleo rang off and made her way to
Dorothy's cottage since she needed to look at the space occupied by the old
washing machine.
Mr Barker
waylaid her.
"Can
you do something for me, Miss Hartley?"
"Why Mr
Barker, how are you? What's the problem?"
"My
wife's behaving strangely. She goes out for hours on end at least twice a week.
Can you find out why?"
Since Cleo
knew exactly where Jane Barker went, there would be more than just an element
of dishonesty if she took that request on board, but for obvious reasons she
could not recommend that Mr Barker follow his wife to see where she was heading.
An idea came to her.
"I know
where she goes, but it's a secret, Mr Barker."
"You
can tell me. I'm her husband."
"And
you won't tell her I've told you?"
"Of
course not."
"She works
out at a gym, Mr Barker. She wants to get fit."
"Good gracious.
She's not usually that energetic."
"Haven't
you noticed that she seems livelier?"
"That's
true. Now I know why, I'll stop worrying," said Mr Barker, relieved that
his wife was doing something harmless and healthy.
"But
you won't tell her I told you, will you, Mr Barker?"
"It's
our secret, Miss Hartley. How much do I owe you?"
"Nothing.
That wasn't an investigation. That was just a little information to stop you
worrying. If you have any more questions, come straight to me."
"Oh, I
will, I will," he chuckled as he went off to his vegetable patch.
***
Dorothy had
peered anxiously through the side window in her living- room, hoping Cleo could
deal with Mr Barker. He could be very insistent at times. She remembered when
he had tried to prevent her dear little dog getting into his garden by building
a perimeter fence strong enough to secure a prison camp. The fence was still
there and not pretty. Poor Minor had been run over by a dangerous driver.
Cleo told
her the gist of her conversation with Mr Barker.
Dorothy was
amused. The last thing Jane Barker would dream of doing was anything in the
sport line, judging from the comments she had made to Dorothy about the ladies
who did turn up at the Wellness Centre to work off some of their spare tyres.
She would tell Jane how Cleo had explained her ‘outings’. Jane would agree that
Jim was the last person to know what she was really doing. Cleo had found the
ideal solution since even if Jim trailed her he would only see her going into
the Wellness Centres and could not find out what she did there.
***
"I've
just found you a new job, Dorothy."
"I
don't want a new job."
"Yes
you do if it's an investigation in disguise. And you're Nora Smith, by the way."
"Nora?
What an awful name!"
"It's a
pretty name, Dorothy. The author of the historical novel I'm reading is called
Nora. I expect that's why the name sprang to mind."
"I
expect I'll get used to it."
Cleo
explained what the Silver case was about and Dorothy agreed that getting into
the office to find out more about the secretary was something she could do to
perfection.
"How
should I explain my sudden return to health to Mrs Barker, Cleo?"
"It was
hay-fever. Very convenient and the symptoms are the same as a cold."
"But
it's October. The hay season is over."
"Well,
call it an allergy then. You’re allergic to dust. You were reorganizing your attic,
looking for old documents and getting rid of a spider's web. Something on that
line."
Dorothy
thought that was a splendid idea.
“Are you
going to tell Jane that Mr Barker tried to hire me to find out where Jane goes
on those mysterious outings? Cleo asked.
"I
certainly will. It was silly of her to think she could keep her secret from him,
Cleo. But he'll leave her to it now. And anyway, she does go where men are not
welcome and women challenge their bodies."
***
The job deal
at the car firm was discussed further over coffee and Dorothy's home-baked currant
bread, still warm from the oven, thickly sliced and dripping with butter. Cleo
put any doubts about having Dorothy on board out of her mind and eventually
stroll back to her own cottage clutching the half of the currant bread that was
left over after the impromptu feast. Robert would be delighted. Dorothy baked
bara brith just like his mother had in the old days. Robert never got tired of
telling everyone that.
***
Cleo had left
her mobile on the dining-table at home, so she glanced at it as soon as she had
let herself into the cottage. It had received a message, a desperate plea from Gary
to call back immediately. She'd been out for over an hour. Gary must be
literally gasping for her return call.
"Cleo, where
have you been?
“At
Dorothy’s and I left my cell phone at home. Why?”
“Last night
someone decided the Kellys could go home."
"Someone?
Who?"
"No one
could say. It might have been Roger Stone."
"Why
him?"
"It
could be connected with Hatherton.”
“Do you
really think he would want Magda free?“ said Cleo.
“On the
other hand, the call to the security guards might have been faked." Said Gary.
"And
not double-checked?"
"It probably
sounded official."
“So where
were you, Gary?”
“I do get
some time off, Cleo. I was at home trying to understand a note my wife had left
me telling me she was going to Spain and would take Charlie with her.”
“That’s
terrible.”
“I don’t
even know if she’s already gone. No one answered the phone at the house.”
“I’m so
sorry, Gary. If you want me to investigate, just tell me!”
“That’s not
why I tried to get in touch, Cleo.”
“Tell me what
you have in mind then.”
"Kelly’s
car - the one they drove in to Headquarters in - hit a tree and Magda Kelly was
killed."
“OMG,” Cleo
groaned. "Was Magda Kelly driving?"
"No. The
car's at forensics. Kelly was knocked out and carted off to hospital. Chris
said the brakes might have been tampered with, but he’d need t put it on a ramp
to check on that. Head-on crashes often happen when brakes fail and the driver
tries to stop by pulling the steering-wheel round. Hard luck if there's tree in
the way. That’s how he constructed the crash."
"But
he's guessing."
"It was
a dry night, Cleo. There are no skid or brake tracks. The car hit the tree at high
speed and the bonnet was open. The front of the car caved in and Mrs Kelly fell
against the front console, causing massive head injuries and almost instant
death.”
“No safety
belt and no airbag, I presume.”
“The car was
an old-timer, Cleo. It had neither and should not have been on the road.”
“I thought
old-timers were only driven in processions these days.”
“Not that
kind of old-timer. Just a car that had been on the road for 30 years.”
"Could
it have been sabotage?"
"We
can’t rule that out. The car had been parked in an unlit back street. Anyone
with a little knowhow could have tampered with the brakes."
“So it was
not a bomb.”
“A bomb
usually explodes when a car is started,” said Gary.
“I should think road patrol cops were amused,
if there were any around,” said Cleo. “You don’t often see cars that old, so
either someone knew the car and wanted to get at the Kellys, or it was a prank.
Some funny guy manipulating a car for kicks."
“Or just bad
driving, Cleo,” said Gary. “On the other hand, if it was not the only car to be
tampered with, it could be a gang of clever -clogs again. We’re looking into
that. It’s happened before and we did not catch anyone."
“Is Mr Kelly
in Middlethumpton General?"
"Someone
sent for the paramedics. We don’t know who. He was taken to A&E and he’s in
a coma.”
"Let’s
hope he can say what happened."
"Assuming
he survives without amnesia."
"Could
the attack have been deliberate, Gary?"
"It
must have been. Cutting break connections is never accidental.”
“But it
could have been a prank. Some guys laughed at the old car and played around
with the workings.”
“We can’t
rule that out,” said Gary.
“How did
homicide get involved, Gary?
“As soon as
someone is dead, we get roped in.”
"What
if the attack was meant only for Kelly? Maybe he knows too much."
"He's
under guard at the hospital, Cleo. 24/7."
"Good."
"You’ll
be glad to know that I'll be back on the case from tomorrow," he added.
"How
come?"
“Hatherton
again, I assume. Now he’s under Stone’s protection, I’m allowed to solve the
murder.”
“Have you checked?”
“No, Cleo.
There’s no point. He might just tell me something to pacify me. I think he’s
been secretive enough already and I would not know if he was being honest with
me.”
“Fair
enough.”
“So I’ll
just get on with the job and leave Hatherton out of it, whatever I discover.”
“I suppose
that’s one way of solving a murder,” said Cleo.
She was
sceptical. Why was Gary being messed around?
Let’s assume
that the press will print Magda’s story because it’s the sort of thing that
people like to read, A reporter would dig around in the background and find out
that Burton lived next door. HQ has to
make a show of investigating Burton's death."
"Roger
is safeguarding himself I should think, Gary. You would keep quiet about the
agent business, but someone else might smell a rat and not be silent about it."
“Roger wants
to keep up appearances, Cleo, so we have to investigate obvious assassinations.
But putting me back on the case might be instructions to Roger from somewhere
else, couldn’t it?"
***
It sounded
to Cleo as if Gary had been cast in the role of scapegoat for something or
other. He should be asking Roger Stone what was going on, but he wouldn’t.
***
"What
will you do about Shirley Temple? She could talk."
"She
won’t. She is too career-minded. I'll find her something useful to do. That
recent jewellery theft at the jewellers right across the road from HQ, for
instance. Chasing up jewellery fences would be right up her street. I need more
evidence about her activities and her outside contacts before I challenge her."
"Another
job for the Hartley Agency?" said Cleo.
"I’m,
afraid so."
"She
probably concentrates on what goes on inside HQ, Gary, if that’s where she’s
planning to have a career. Don't bet on her being up to more than a conniving
little affair with Stone or some other Worthy, and agency possibilities are
limited."
"You
could be right."
"And
you'll have to get another agency. She knows us."
“Or you’ll
employ someone she has never met, Cleo. Whatever
you do, keep Dorothy out of it, Cleo. She's too excitable."
"She
already has a new mission, Gary"
"Is she
doing a Mrs Mop again?"
"Briefly.
Alias Nora Smith. At the Silver car showroom in aid of Mrs Silver’s divorce. We
need tangible evidence that Silver is philandering. Quite sordid since they are
both two-timing. Run of the mill stuff. Dorothy will just watch and report. No
action is planned."
"But that
showroom is a wasps' nest, Cleo. We thought we’d reined them in, but posh cars
still keep on disappearing in this district and Silver has the contacts.”
"I'd
better send Colin, then."
"He
could collect some motor numbers of large cars. We'd like to crack a gang of
car-smugglers that seem to have taken over from the guys we put behind bars."
"How
does it all work? Silver’s is a respectable showroom. Ordinary people go there to
buy ordinary cars."
"Who
said it was respectable, Cleo? The ordinary cars are a cover. The posh cars are
smuggled out to where you can't get a representative Jag or Merc without connections."
"And
the documents…?"
"No
problem. In love and crime anything's possible! By the way, your car has come."
“Wow.
Thanks!”
“I’ll
collect you and we’ll collect it, OK?”
“No need. I’ll
have to give up the hired car.”
“OK.”
“Tomorrow?
I’ll have to ring off.”
***
“Who was
that?
“Gary. My
new car has come.”
“Why did he
have to tell you that?”
“Because he advised
me which showroom to go to and they told him.”
“Oh. So when
do you get the car?”
“Gary
volunteered to pick me up and take me there, Robert. You have no time anyway.
But I’ll go there in my leased car and leave it there.”
“That’s a
better idea.”
Cleo and
Gary in one car together was too close for Robert’s comfort.
***
"Where's
Gloria? How was your day?"
"Surprisingly
profitable. Gloria is an excellent saleswoman. She chatted with everyone like
an old friend and people who'd come in for a bit of bacon went out with all
sorts of stuff."
"So she
can keep on working there, can she?"
"She's
a godsend after the awful Phyllis."
"I told
you not to employ that woman. She was one of the tuneless rebels in poor Laura
Finch's chorus."
"But
she was grateful for the break. She'd done time, you know, Cleo."
"I
know, but you only found that out much later, so it had nothing to do with giving
her the job."
"The
thing is that she was loyal in her own way. It's the new man in her life who
has turned her head. She has been behaving like a love-stricken teenager."
"Didn’t
she have an ‘adventure’ with Gareth Morgan?"
"I
doubt it," said Robert. “I suspected as much, but her affair was only with
the flat.”
"She
might have seduced him to get in. She’s not exactly a Miss World, Robert.”
“Not even a
Miss Grumpsfield!”
"But women
of any age target all sorts of guys who have been denied the affection they
think they deserve.”
“Is that
what happened to you, Cleo?”
“I’ll
pretend I didn’t hear that, Robert.”
“I expect Phyllis
would not be able to coax Gareth out of his wall-flower existence even if she
wanted to.”
“On the other
hand, it takes all sorts,” said Cleo, and Robert looked at her quizzically.
“Meaning?”
“It’s just
that Delilah found someone she can live with and I thought she had given up on
that.”
“And you
found someone, didn’t you, Cleo?”
“Did I?”
“You don't
disapprove of Mitch, do you?" Robert asked, anxious not to pursue the
discussion in the direction it threatened to go.
"Not as
long as Delilah's happy."
"So where
does Gareth Morgan fit into this discussion? I’ve forgotten the beginning."
“I asked
about my mother, Robert. But to answer your question, I think Mr Morgan was a
challenge for Phyllis. She might even have been quite flattered until she found
out what a nasty little man he is. I think she hung on as long as she did only
because she fancied the flat, Robert."
"You
don't think Gareth Morgan would have been able to cope with Phyllis, do
you?"
"No,
and I think you can write her off. Any day now she'll phone in and say she'll be
sick for the next few months."
“And lay claim
to paid sick-leave?”
"If
she’s pregnant, pay her off, is my advice, Robert. Now Gloria’s working with
you can do that. Family necessity and so on. Quite legal. Just relax!"
“Relax? With
Gloria around?”
“Are you
going to tell me where she is now, Robert?”
***
Robert had not
got round to telling Cleo that Gareth Morgan had been in the shop that very day
looking as miserable as sin. He had made a few cryptic remarks and was probably
the only person to ignore Gloria altogether.
Gareth
Morgan had moved into the flat above the shop when Robert moved out. He had
been so grateful. His mother had even sent him his Hammond Organ. Then Phyllis
had started to work for Robert and had appeared to have designs on Mr Morgan.
He had been in seventh heaven because for the first time in his life someone
apart from his mother was taking him seriously, or so he liked to believe.
Cleo had
always been suspicious about the relationship. It's true that you can't always
see what people find so fascinating in one another, but between Phyllis and
Gareth there had been no visible hint of romance.
***
"I can
tell you one thing, Cleo. Gareth is totally perplexed now. After encouraging
the poor guy, Phyllis never got round to moving into the flat on a permanent
basis, though that was probably still her target until she found something
better. Gareth said she was too busy especially even when she told him they,
and I repeat they were having a baby.
“Had they
had sex?” said Cleo. “That’s usually the order of things.”
“He didn’t
say he hadn’t.”
“He
wouldn’t, would he, if he’s been carrying on like Prince Charming,” said Cleo.
“Poor guy.”
“He said
that Phyllis now has a new beau with a posh car and good cash flow. I think
that he thinks the baby was made elsewhere. He’s probably right, of course, and
he has decided to go home to mother."
"That's
a bit drastic, isn't it?"
"There
is a second reason, Cleo.
“I’m
curious.”
The vicar has
decided to cut costs by putting Morgan on part time. He can't afford the flat
on half pay."
"Couldn't
you reduce the rent for him?"
"I
could, but I'm not going to. I've got a much better idea."
Cleo went
into the kitchen to start dinner. Robert followed her and stood at the worktop,
potato peeler at the ready, while Cleo sorted out the vegetables for their
meal.
“Go on then.
Spill the beans!”
"Gloria
can move in."
"That’s
awesome, Robert. Cool thinking.”
"As I
see it, she'd be busy at the shop during the day, do her dancing classes, and judging
from her performance today, I'm quite sure she'll soon have a circle of friends
who will take up all her other free time."
"I hope
you're right. Where is she?"
“She has not
been kidnapped, Cleo.”
“So Jay
Salerno has not caught up with her?”
“He would
not have got far. I know my customers, Cleo.”
“You don’t
know Jay.”
“Would he
have entered a shop where Gloria is serving? She would have recognized him and
told me immediately or just screamed.”
“Sure.”
"So I
have your blessing for the flat?"
"I'd
rather have her there than living somewhere further away and indulging in her
own version of cops and robbers."
Cleo was
also glad her mother would be too busy during the day to think about detecting.
Apart from interfering in Cleo's cases, Gloria could not be relied on to keep
what she knew to herself. Discretion was a quality she did not have in
abundance.
"You
still haven't told me where she is this evening, yet. Are we cooking for two or
three?"
"Three,
I should think. She's only gone to the vicarage."
"What
does she want there?"
"I
think she's curious about Clare's twins."
***
Gloria had
struck up a friendship with Clare, the vicar's sister-in-law, when she last
visited Upper Grumpsfield.
"Well,
she won't find them there. The family moved to Laura Finch's bungalow a week or
two ago. Didn't you tell her that?"
"Edith
can tell her."
Edith was
the vicar's wife and Clare's twin sister. Clare had finally come home to roost
in Upper Grumpsfield and her Austrian husband had finally caught up with her
after a decade separated. He was so happy to be reunited with her that he quit
his secure job in Vienna and was now managing Middlethumpton library, a job
Cleo had enjoyed before she started her detective agency. Clare had been
babysitting the job until a new manager was found. Karl von Klippen stepped
into that job thanks to his prior experience (made up on the spur of the
moment) and he was hit with everyone, not least because his English was
charmingly foreign and excruciatingly bad. More linguistically minded people
had tried to correct him and failed (‘Zee continuous is not necessary. We not
have it in German’).
"I
wonder how the von Klippens feel about living in a house where someone was murdered,"
Cleo speculated.
"Laura
was not murdered in the house."
"But
her son Jason was murdered in the garden shed and the murderers' parents still
live next door."
"Betjeman
Crighton is as mad as a hatter, Cleo. You can't blame his parents for his
insane acts. He's been locked up for the rest of his life."
"It's
creepy, though."
"I had
a chance to look around when I delivered some of those US beef cuts, Cleo. Karl
has removed that shed and redesigned the garden. They've completely redecorated
the house. There is nothing of Laura Finch left. I can't see a problem. After
all, your father died here, didn't he?"
"Not here.
He died in hospital."
"But I
expect other ancestors drew their last breath here, Cleo. This cottage is about
two hundred years old."
"Four
hundred."
"So
let's get dinner cooked. I'm starving. Gloria will be here soon. "
On cue,
Gloria let herself in through the front door and called out that she was back
and hungry.
"How
was Edith, Mother?"
"Unhappy.
If you ask me, she'll be leaving that idiot of a vicar pretty soon."
"I hope
not. He'd be lost without her. And what would those five kids do?"
"I expect
she'll turn to you for advice, Cleo," said Robert. "Then you can
really put your thinking cap on."
"Heaven
forbid!"
"What
are the cops doing down the end of the street, Cleo?" Gloria wanted to
know. "Has someone escaped from jail?"
"You
know who's escaped, Mother."
"That
was in New York. He won't come here."
"We
don't know that, and neither do the police. They've lost track of him, as far
as we know."
“Hey,
Ladies, do you know something I don’t?”
Gloria and
Cleo exchanged looks and were startled when the phone rang as if on cue.
"That'll
be Gary," said Cleo, ignoring Robert’s question.
“Gary, Gary,
Gary. He’ll be in bed with us before long,” said Robert.
“He won’t,
Bobby. You are Cleo’s soulmate.”
“Correction.
One of Cleo’s soulmates.”
Cleo had
gone into the living-room to talk to Gary, leaving Gloria to help Robert with
the dinner. As she sat down to listen to the latest from Headquarters she heard
Gloria say
"Well,
Bobby. So here we are….. Surely you aren’t jealous of Gary!"
"Should
I be?"
"Well,
if you need any support, I'm here now, aren't I?"
"And that's
what I'd like to talk to you about, Gloria," said Robert. “Not about that
cop.”
"OK. You
don't really want me here, do you, Bobby?"
"Maybe
not for ever at the cottage, but your sales prowess is a revelation, Gloria. In
fact…"
"I can have
the job?"
"Certainly,
and before you start speculating about where you are going to live, I want to
offer you the flat above the shop. Interested?"
"It's
occupied."
"Not
much longer. I would not be surprised if Gareth Morgan went home to
mother."
"You
mean the funny guy with the baggy jeans and musty odour?"
"He's
been jilted by your predecessor."
"The
good and gracious Phyllis? I don't blame her."
"Phyllis
is a cross between a vamp and a weight-lifter, but now she's found a guy with
money, apparently. Mr Morgan can't compete and is devastated. Gloria."
"Sounds
like the new guy is gay and needs a respectable front."
“Whatever.
He’s got Phyllis pregnant.”
“Not Mr Morgan?”
“I don’t
suppose he even knows how, Gloria.”
"When
do you think the guy will quit the apartment?"
"By the
end of the week if he has a little financial inducement."
"Bobby,
I'm surprised at you."
***
Cleo heard
the last words as she came back to see what was happening to the food.
"Surprised
at what?"
"Later,"
interrupted Robert. "The food's ready. Can you two ladies help me to serve
it all? That was Gary on your mobile, wasn’t it?. “What did he want?"
"I can
get the car tomorrow. And there’s more about Magda Kelly. Did I tell you that Kelly
crashed the car?"
“Their old
boneshaker? I didn’t know, but I do now.”
“You didn’t
tell me,” said Gloria.
“You don’t
know the guys, Mother. Why would you be interested?”
“I’m interested
in everything you do, Cleo.”
“I didn’t do
anything, Mother. Magda Kelly died in the crash.”
“Someone did
if your favourite cop is onto it,” said Robert.
"It
could have been a simple car accident," said Cleo, not believing what she
was saying.
"Or
someone making sure she doesn't reveal any secrets," said Robert.
Gloria was
fascinated. Curiosity finally caught up with her.
"Who's
Magda Kelly? Should I know her?"
"No
mother. Just someone in a car crash."
"If you
already knew, why did that cop call you?"
"To
tell me that I can have my new car tomorrow, Mother.”
