And something else keeps ringing in her ears.
What that man, Craig, said as he left – what he said about Johngetting himself killed. She can’t stop thinking about that. Is it possible . . . Is there any way that John did what he did . . . deliberately? What if he knew this was coming and—
She can’t think it. He wouldn’t. Hecouldn’t.
Audrey releases her from the hug at last and they head back towards the car.
‘Is it just us for shopping today?’ Paula asks shyly, trying to put John and the debt out of her head.
‘Gosh no. Four Musketeers and all that.’ Audrey grins. ‘We’ll meet the others there. The showroom we’re heading to is near where Teddy lives. And Ivy stayed with her last night. I was in a hotel near here.’
‘Oh! I’m so glad Ivy is coming with us,’ Paula says with genuine warmth. They may have only met a few days ago, but she felt an immediate kinship with the silent young woman all alone in the big house.
Paula climbs into the Jag, almost landing on the dog, who squeaks in protest.
‘Oh, it’s you again,’ Paula says to her, then turns to Audrey. ‘She’s yours? I wasn’t sure who she belonged to.’
‘Of course she’s mine!’ Audrey exclaims happily, then adds, ‘Paula.’
‘Yes?’ says Paula.
‘No,’ Audrey laughs. ‘Her name is Paula.’
‘What?’
‘Her name!’ Audrey reaches over and scratches the dog’s head. Hair flies in every direction. ‘My baby is called Paula. She’s twelve years old, a Jack Russell Bichon Frise mix – a Jackie-B – and she doesn’t like belly rubs. She has sensitive nipples.’ Understanding, the dog rolls over, revealing six proud little nipples, buried in coarse, messy fur. Her tongue lolls out as she grins, one ear folded over in the wrong direction.
‘Her name is Paula?’ Paula asks, feeling a bit miffed. ‘That’s very confusing.’
Audrey grins widely. ‘I know, but I can’t help what her name is.’ She reaches over to pat her hand. ‘Never mind, eh, my darling? Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll call her Paula the Dog from now on. How does that sound?’
For some reason, this offer really affects Paula the Human. She is not used to being put ahead of someone else. Not even ahead ofanimal-someone elses.
‘Thank you,’ she whispers and Paula the Dog yips in response, flipping back over and licking the gear stick. Paula the Human looks over at Audrey as she starts the car and they move off. She’s starting to really like this overly affectionate woman with her layers of floral clothes and signature pashminas. How funny that they haven’t known each other long, and yet, she already feels like one of them, like she has been granted unconditional access to their group, with a lifetime guarantee.
They sit in comfortable silence for a minute, heading in the direction of Central London. Paula wonders if she should double check Audrey has paid the congestion charge, but doesn’t. Audrey is a grown-up. And she can afford the fine.
Of course, a part of Paula is frightened by all of this. These women have all confessed to killing someone. Each of them! Three women, all lottery winners, all murderers. She should be running a mile in the opposite direction.
But, Paula has to admit, she . . . likes them. She likes all of them. She can’t help it. It’s all so new, so different, so exciting. She understands why each of these women did what they did. She doesn’t quite know why, but she trusts them all. And she’s OK with what they’ve done. She wants to help them, protect them. There definitely won’t be any more calls to the NHS non-emergency number.
Paula jumps in her seat when Audrey sighs beside her, reaching up to adjust her rear-view mirror. ‘Columbo’s back,’ she mutters. It’s the first time Audrey has sounded anything but totally delighted by life.
Paula strains to look behind them. In the distance, there’s a dark non descript car hanging way back. She can’t make out any person or persons.
‘Did you sayColumbo?’ Paula is flummoxed. ‘As in . . . the TV detective from the seventies?’ She squints into the distance. ‘The actor was called Peter something, wasn’t he?’ She cheers with the memory. ‘I used to watch that show every week. I had quite a crush on him!’
‘Well’ – Audrey machine-guns her now-familiar cackle – ‘this Columbo hasn’t got the lazy eye, but he has got an old beige mac. And – most annoyingly – he’s got Columbo’s dogged determination.’
‘Determination to do what? Why is he following us?’
‘He’s not following us. He’s followingme.’ She reaches over and pats Paula’s hand reassuringly. It is not reassuring how long her eyes are off the road. ‘He thinks I killed my husband. Which, of course, I did, but he doesn’t know that. Not for sure anyway.’
Paula’s head whips round, straining to see the car behind them, then – instinctively – she ducks way down in the seat. ‘Are you serious?’ she shrieks, half-hiding behind her seatbelt. Paula the Dog gives her a withering look.
‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ Audrey says happily. ‘He can’t see you or anything much of anything from this distance.’ She gives Columbo a happy little wave in the mirror, which makes Paula sink even lower in her seat. Audrey glances over, looking amused. She has her tweed coat collar popped,her pashmina tucked inside. It makes her head look tiny. ‘He hasn’t got an iota of proof. Paula darling, you mustn’t panic. He’s just a bit obsessed. It’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Are you sure?’ Paula squeaks.
