Murder My Neighbour by Veronica Heley Page B

over her while she did it, which made Ellie feel so inadequate that she fumbled every click of the mouse. Mia was patience itself. Ellie wanted to hit her. Finally the order was completed and Ellie pressed ‘Send’.
    â€˜There, now,’ said Mia. ‘You can do it all by yourself next time, can’t you?’
    Ellie gritted her teeth and tried to smile. She didn’t think she could do it all by herself next time. There were some things her brain wasn’t well equipped for, and ordering things on the computer was one of them.
    After supper, Ellie went out into the garden to do some watering. She tried to have a constructive think about all her problems, ended up soaking her skirt with a misdirected hosepipe and had to stand there, flapping it about in order to get it to dry.
    Action. That was the ticket. So she bearded Thomas in his den. ‘Are you free now to take another walk round the block? I want to test a theory.’
    â€˜Sure. I need to get away for a while.’ He abandoned his desk with alacrity.
    This time Ellie didn’t linger to admire God’s creation of so many beautiful trees and flowers. This time she was anxious to get to the house.
    Someone was already in the drive, standing by the garage. A woman, trying and failing to lift a young boy up to look through the windows above the garage doors.
    It was Vera, with her brown-skinned son. ‘Oh, Mrs Quicke, you’ll say I’m daft, but I got to thinking after we talked this morning . . . and the more I thought, the more worried I got that maybe something had happened to Mrs Pryce, and I couldn’t get her out of mind. I had to collect Mikey from the childminder’s when I finished work, and I found myself walking back this way, just to look at the outside of her house. Say “hello” to Mrs Quicke, Mikey.’
    The boy muttered something. He had lively brown eyes and curly black hair, quite a contrast to his fair-haired, grey-eyed mother. Ellie remembered that he was supposed to be difficult. Autistic? Badly-behaved? At a special school?
    Vera stared up at the house. ‘Do you think she might have had an accident on the way, driving herself, you know?’
    â€˜Have you tried ringing the hospitals, Vera?’
    Vera shook her head, making her hoop earrings catch the light. ‘It’s only since you said something might be wrong today that I’ve been worried.’
    â€˜The same here. If we lifted Mikey up, do you think he could see if her car’s still inside the garage? Only, that window over the double doors is rather small, and I doubt if anyone could see anything through it.’
    â€˜Don’t you touch me!’ Mikey kicked the door. And went on kicking it.
    â€˜Stop that now,’ said his mother.
    He didn’t stop. She picked him up, and he went berserk, arms and legs all over the place. Vera staggered and would have fallen, but that Thomas took the boy off her and held him close. Mikey shrieked and struggled, but Thomas was able to control him. At last the boy went limp.
    â€˜Sorry about that,’ said Vera, who was almost in tears. ‘He gets so excited, and if he’s crossed . . . Sometimes I’m afraid that . . .’
    â€˜Yes, of course,’ said Thomas, and set Mikey on his feet while retaining one of the boy’s hands in his.
    Ellie felt limp, too. ‘Do you want to take him home? Suppose we just have a quick look through the window in the covered way.’ She pushed open the door in the wall and stepped through into the yard.
    â€˜Hang about,’ said Vera. ‘That door’s always kept bolted.’
    â€˜Well, it isn’t bolted now. I think your gardener is coming and going this way.’
    Vera’s eyes slid away from Ellie’s. Vera knew the gardener was still coming, all right.
    Thomas put on his reading glasses to inspect the door. ‘See these screw holes? It looks as though a