I'm going to get you. I'm—'

At this Clara did ring off. She stood quite still in the hall of the old, rambling house in Hampstead. Her heart was pounding and her legs felt weak. Never before had she been spoken to in that ghastly way. Old, indeed! She wasn't sixty yet. But she did feel she'd handled the person with considerable dignity.

Suddenly she needed to sit down. She turned, to make her way back into the drawing-room, then gave a jump. Standing just two feet from her was a young woman. Clara clasped her hand to her heart. 'Oh, Dorothy, don't creep up on me like that!'

'I didn't. I just came to answer the phone,' Dorothy Saunders said defensively. She was in her early thirties, painfully thin, with short, mousy brown hair, and a deathly pale complexion. She was wearing a drab brown dress, about ten years out of date, thick stockings and flat shoes. At the moment her eyes were big with alarm. 'Mother, who was that?'

'I don't know. Just some drunk.'

'He threatened you, didn't he?'

'Certainly not!'

'But I heard him say, "You'll pay, I'm going to get you." '

'He didn't know what he was saying. He was totally out of control.'

'It was terrible. It's the way A1 Capone and those other Chicago gangsters talk to their enemies.'

'I'm pleased to say, I wouldn't know. And I don't know how you do.'

'Only from the talkies. It was one of them, wasn't it?'

'A gangster? Don't be ridiculous!'

'No - one of those people you've told the papers about.'

'I tell you I don't know who it was.'

'Aggie's always said something like this would happen - that one of them would try and get revenge.'

'Your sister is absurdly melodramatic sometimes.'

'But he did threaten you. Mother, you must tell the police.'

'No. What could they do? Besides, it was only empty bluster.'

'It might not be. And at least if he rings again you could tell him the police had been notified. It might just frighten him off.'

'Well, I'll think about it, if it'll keep you quiet. Now I don't want to hear another word on the subject. Go and do something useful. Clean the bathroom.'

'I cleaned it this morning.'

'Well, clean something else!'

And Clara strode into the drawing-room and slammed the door behind her.


Chapter Three

'I wonder how many people will come to my funeral,' Florrie said reflectively.

Jean Mackenzie gave a tut. 'There you go again, dear. You really must not think about these things.'

'I like thinking about it.