The Courier & Advertiser (Perth and Perthshire Edition)
“It’s like, overnight, all my certainties have evaporated... I am feeble, a weakling...
You’re not looking too hot.” Wilma sat in Maggie’s dining room, a cup of black coffee on the table in front of her. “Bittie tired,” she raised a pasty face. “Didn’t get to my bed till gone midnight.” “Thought you were babysitting Colin.” “I was.”
“What’s he been doing until after midnight on a school day?”
“Homework.” Wilma shrugged. “That’s what he told me, anyhow.”
Maggie caught her breath. She’d no idea what her son got up to any more. “If you are going to babysit, Wilma, you’ll have to be firmer with him.”
“Well, thanks a bunch. You come swanning in at all hours and I get nothing but the third degree.” She offered a wan smile. “You don’t exactly look sparkling either.”
“Neither would you be if you’d been sitting in a car half the night.”
“And whose fault is that?’
“Yours. For hounding me into taking on the business.”
“No, pal, yours for letting the client talk you into it. You’re a soft touch, Maggie Laird. I thought we’d agreed you’d steer clear of surveillance.”
Desperate
“We did, only… he was such a poor soul.”
“I thought you said he was good-looking,” Wilma teased.
“Did you fancy him, like?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He was desperate, that’s all.” “If he was that desperate why didn’t he go himself? Catch them in the act?”
“Because the guy was the wife’s personal trainer. Built like a tank.”
“So you decided to take him on instead?” Wilma rolled her eyes. “Maggie Laird, you’re some woman.”
“I didn’t know he’d be that size when I took the job on.”
“And when you said you were going on a wee job,” Wilma retorted, “I didn’t know you were going to come in at all hours.”
“That’s as long as it took.’
“Well, aren’t you going to tell me how it went?” Maggie shrugged. “I parked the car like you said, watched the guy go in, waited till the light went on upstairs.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I sat there for seven hours. Well, it felt like seven, but when I checked my watch it was only six and a bit. Then…” She slumped back on to the settee. “I came home.”
“But that’s great!”
“Great? Is that how you’d describe it? Sitting in a cold car for hours on end with damn all to eat or drink? I couldn’t even go to the bathroom.” “You’d have managed if you were desperate.” “Managed? How?”
“Cooried doon behind the car.” “Wil-ma,” Maggie shrilled. “I’d never be so desperate I’d wee in the street.”
Grins
Wilma grinned. “You might yet. Anyway, I could have given you a hand. Done a shift, like.”
“And how were you to know I was stuck there?” “Simple. You could have phoned.”
Maggie turned her head away.
“Well?”
She turned back. “I forgot my mobile,” she said in a sheepish voice.
“Maggie,” Wilma’s eyes were wide. “You daft sod.” “I know.”
“You took some happy snaps?” Wilma hesitated. “You did, didn’t you?”
“As instructed,” Maggie summoned a smile. “Good on you, kid. If we’ve got that in the bag, that’s another case sorted.”
“But that’s just it.”
“Christ,” Wilma rolled her eyes, “you didn’t forget to give the client our Terms of Business, did you?”
“No. He had them already. I checked. It’s just… well…when I agreed to take on the agency, I never imagined it would be like this: creeping about like a criminal, hiding away like a… a… voyeur.”
“A what?” Puzzled look.
“A spy.”
“But isn’t that what we are?”
“Up to a point. But it’s so unsavoury, sharing people’s most intimate moments. It’s like we’re in bed with them.” Grins. “We should be so lucky.” “Don’t be facetious.”
“But that’s life, Maggie.” Wilma’s voice was tender. “Not my life. I just can’t do it, Wilma. Spying on people. Taking sneaky photographs.”
Her voice wavered.
“Not any more. I thought I’d be able to carry on George’s business. I talked myself into it,” Maggie turned a miserable face to her neighbour.
“Let you talk me into it. I thought I could be strong. For George’s sake. For our children.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “But, now,” she hiccuped, “G-George has gone. And my kids… the problems they’ve had… the way I’ve neglected them this past while… I’ve been frantic with worry. Kirsty and Colin, they’re all I’ve got.”
“Kids…” Wilma commiserated, “they’re a worry are they no?”
Prices
Maggie was weeping now, shuddering sobs that racked her entire body.
“Och, come here,” Wilma pulled her close, enveloped Maggie in her generous bosom.
“I used to be so positive,” Maggie struggled for air. “But since George died, I’m not sure about anything any more. It’s like, overnight, all my certainties have evaporated. And you’re right, Wilma, what you said the other day: I am feeble, a weakling compared with you.”
“You’re not weak, Maggie, just different. And such a wee scrap of a thing, mebbe the surveillance wisna such a great idea. Why don’t we concentrate on the legals for the time being, pass on as much surveillance as we can?
“Once we’re down the road a bit there will be no need to knock our pans out on divorce work. It’s way too time-consuming for the return. Then we’ll concentrate on the insurance fraud. That’s where the big money is.”
“But, Wilma,” Maggie protested, “we’re not in a position to turn away business.”
“We can fob them off. Say all our operatives are fully engaged at the moment.”
“But that’s a lie, Wilma. The last thing we want to be seen as is dodgy.”
“Dodgy’s my middle name.” Wilma grinned. “Call it creative thinking, if you must.” She changed the subject. “Has that cheque come in from Cowies?” Maggie raised a weary head. “Yesterday morning.” “Talking of cheques, now we’re up and running, we should mebbe jack our prices up.”
“Wil-ma. We can’t do that.”
“Why not? ‘Don’t ask, don’t get,’ that’s what I always say. You try getting a quote from another agency and see how much they charge.”
“I suppose. It’s just… making money out of other people’s misery…”
Wilma’s face creased into a grin. “If we don’t do it, somebody else will. It’ll all work out,” she extended a comforting hand. “You wait and see, Maggie Laird, six months from now you’ll be a new woman.”
More tomorrow.