A Mind of her Own Read online

  No, she resolved, she’d be patient. She’d got over this one and should be grateful that she had come out of it smiling. She wasn’t out of pocket, even though the fines had been enormous. She had already renewed her driving licence to make sure that it was current because the police had been quite right, the old one had expired, although only by a few weeks fortunately, so she’d had no trouble in renewing it.

  That taken care of, she would now bide her time, and when she thought it was prudent to do so she would talk to Tim about buying a small second-hand car. Tim was good at doing deals of that sort so he’d find her the right car at the right price. She’d be happy and peace would be restored.

  Seven

  Betty Wilson hoped that by having everything to do with her accident dealt with by her son, Tim, it would mean that her mishap would be handled discreetly and that friends and family would be none the wiser about what had happened.

  Needless to say, news of her accident did leak out and became general knowledge in Ashmore. Some people were aghast that she had been driving without a current licence and up-to-date insurance; others were very sympathetic.

  Her daughter, Mary, was incensed and she had an angry scowl on her plump face when she came to visit her. ‘What on earth did you think you were doing, Mother! To take that car out when it hasn’t been on the road for years,’ she scolded.

  ‘I know, it was one of the reasons I was taking it out. I wanted to find out if I should keep it or not.’

  ‘Keep it!’ Mary’s scowl deepened. ‘Dump it, that’s the only thing to do with that old wreck.’

  ‘Yes you’re quite right. It was an old wreck and the cost of the repairs didn’t make it worth having them done.’

  ‘So you are going to get rid of it,’ Mary said with relief.

  ‘Tim has dealt with the matter. I suggested that he should ask the garage if they will buy the car from us.’

  ‘You mean by it from him?’

  ‘Of course. They agreed but at scrap value.’

  ‘Well, it’s such an old wreck what can you expect.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it was,’ Betty sighed. ‘It seemed to be the best thing to do with it.’

  Mary sniffed disapprovingly. ‘I suppose you’ve let him keep all the money.’

  ‘No! After he’d paid for having it towed in from the motorway and then paid my fines, he brought me the change. You can have half of it if you’d like,’ her mother told her.

  Betty went over to her bureau, opened the drawer and took out an envelope and extracted a note and a few coins from it.

  Mary face fell like a balloon being deflated as she looked at the money that her mother had put in her hand.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Your share of what Tim got for the car.’

  ‘Are you joking! He surely didn’t let it go for twenty pounds!’

  ‘Oh no, they paid a fair price, even though it has gone for scrap, but as I’ve already told you he had to pay my fines out of the money.’

  ‘Your fines?’

  ‘That’s right. My driving licence was out of date, and I wasn’t able to produce the insurance for the car … I didn’t even know which company it was insured with.’

  ‘And, of course, they negotiated as low a price as they possibly could by telling you that it was an old heap and that it should have been done away with years ago because it was so old that it was dangerous to drive and shouldn’t have been on the road,’ Mary said, tight-lipped.

  ‘They probably did,’ Betty agreed, ‘but you’ll have to ask Tim about that because I wasn’t there.’

  ‘Dad should have bought a new car that was much smaller, more economical to run, and easier to handle,’ Mary stated.

  ‘Yes, yes we know all that and it’s too late now,’ her mother agreed again. ‘Anyway, that’s your share so look after it,’ she added with a faint smile.

  Mary didn’t smile. She stared again at the money in her hand, her round face registering disbelief. ‘I would have thought Tim would have managed a better deal,’ she said cryptically, ‘since he’s regarded as such an expert salesman.’

  ‘Selling property is totally different to selling a car,’ her mother pointed out.

  Mary raised her eyebrows and said nothing.

  ‘He did have to pay all my fines, don’t forget,’ Betty stressed. ‘In fact I think he did quite well, we have got rid of the car so no longer have a problem, and the whole thing is over and done with and best forgotten.’

  ‘Except that now you will have no car,’ Mary pointed out.

  ‘No!’ her mother agreed. ‘That is very true, but who knows what will happen in the future. For now let’s put the whole matter out of our minds. I don’t want to hear another word about it. Do you understand?’

  Mary nodded and slipped the money into her pocket. She wasn’t happy about the deal but there was nothing she could do about it. After all, it had been her mother’s decision to sell the car and she herself had described it as an old banger so, as her mother suggested, the only thing to do was to forget the whole incident.

  Betty found that forgetting about selling the car was the last thing she could do. The news spread like a forest fire through the family. Mary, she reflected, must have spent the rest of the day on the phone telling everyone about what had happened. Her twenty-eight-year-old granddaughter, Clare, was the first phone call she had telling her that she had been foolish to sell it as scrap since it was probably quite valuable as an antique. This was followed by a call from Mary’s husband, Toby, to say that he fully agreed with what their daughter had said and that Betty should have consulted him before disposing of the old Merc.

  Tim’s son, Graham, also phoned to express his dismay that the car had been sold but, unlike the others, he actually congratulated her on her decision. ‘What you need to buy, Gran, is a nice little runabout. You let me choose one for you when you’re ready to replace it,’ he told her with all the authority of a twenty-six-year-old.

  Betty sighed. They’d all be talking about what she’d done for the next couple of weeks, she presumed. Telling all their friends and either praising her for getting rid of the old banger, or deriding her for selling a valuable antique for scrap.

  It possibly was a veteran, and had some antique value, she mused, but she didn’t really care. She had done what she wanted to do. Her mind was free, and in due course she would get Tim to look for a new car for her, she decided, as she made her way up to bed.

  Worn out by the events of the day, Betty decided to have an early night. She was about to get undressed when she remembered she had left her mobile phone downstairs; she liked to keep the it by the side of her bed.

  It had been Tim’s suggestion that she did this in case she was feeling ill or needed help in the night. He had keyed in his own number so that all she had to do was to press the letter ‘A’ and she would immediately be through to him.

  Switching on the landing light she made her way back downstairs. To her surprise, there seemed to be a shadow of light coming from her living room.

  ‘Heavens,’ she muttered, the family were right, she really was getting past it. She must have forgotten to switch off the lights. She pushed open the door. It wasn’t that the light was left on at all, it was a beam of light coming from a torch that was being shone into the room and it was coming from the direction of the window.

  Mystified, she stood transfixed as she looked across at the room and saw that the sash window was wide open and someone was trying to climb in through it. They already had one leg on the sill.

  Silently, but quickly, she walked across the room and slammed down the sash window trapping the leg that was on her side.

  She drew in her breath sharply as she heard an ominous crunch as the bone shattered. It was followed by a blood-curdling scream from the owner of the leg.

  Raising her voice, Betty said, ‘I don’t know whether you are coming in or just leaving, but get out!’

  ‘Get this bloody window off my leg,
’ the young man howled.

  His voice was muffled by groans, so much so that Betty had a job to hear what he was saying.

  Swiftly, she picked up her mobile which was on the table where she had left it. ‘I think you need an ambulance,’ she said as she pressed the ‘A’ to alert Tim that she needed him, and then immediately dialled 999.

  When the police answered, she explained the situation. ‘Yes. That’s right, an intruder and he’s astride the windowsill. The window is a sash window and his leg is trapped and he is unable to move. I think his leg is probably broken and he needs an ambulance!’ she said in one breath.

  ‘We understand and we’ll be right along to help you deal with the matter,’ the voice on the other end told her.

  Within minutes she heard the siren of the approaching police car.

  The intruder also heard it. ‘Look, Mrs, if you just lift this bloody window I could free my leg,’ he cried. ‘The pain is killing me.’

  ‘If I lift the window, to let you free your leg, you’ll fall over into my flower border and I don’t want all my flowers crushed,’ she told him sternly. ‘Another minute and the ambulance will be here and there will be someone to help you.’

  At that moment the police car drew up and two burly policemen jumped out and rushed across the garden to where the young man was suspended.

  ‘My word, this is a fine sight,’ one of them said, a wide grin spreading across his face. ‘Now if we can lift the window we may be able to free you. Were you going inside or leaving?’

  With Betty’s help from the inside, the two policemen pushed up from outside. The boy fell out straight into their arms with a blood-curdling scream of pain.

  They were about to hustle him out to their car when the sound of the ambulance could be heard.

  ‘There you are,’ Betty said to the boy, ‘I told you I had sent for an ambulance. Now they’ll take you to hospital and find out just how badly you’ve hurt your leg.’

  ‘We’ll sort him out all right, don’t you worry,’ one of the policeman said grimly, as he snapped handcuffs onto the lad’s wrist and onto his own. ‘A very clever way of trapping a burglar,’ he added with a smile.

  ‘I don’t really know what he was after. I’ve nothing much worth stealing,’ Betty said.

  ‘Even so, you want to make sure your windows are shut when you go to bed at night and when you go out during the day,’ the policeman told her.

  ‘I will be back tomorrow for a statement,’ the other one said, ‘but now we’re going to accompany this gentleman to the hospital and get his leg attended to. We will be keeping him under arrest until we know his full story.’

  As the policemen accompanied their prisoner into the ambulance, another car drew up.

  Betty saw that it was Tim and breathed a sigh of relief. Now that the excitement was over she felt breathless and exhausted.

  ‘What the devil is wrong now, Mother,’ he exploded as he got out, slamming his car door shut, and hurrying towards her.

  ‘It’s all right, sir, nothing to worry about. Your mother caught a burglar breaking in and she very cleverly trapped him by bringing the sash window down on his leg. She is quite a heroine, I can tell you.’

  ‘Someone will be back to see you tomorrow for a statement,’ he said again, turning to address Betty. ‘You get to bed now and don’t worry.’

  ‘You’d better let me in first and tell me what has actually been happening,’ Tim told her.

  Over a cup of coffee, which Tim made because Betty was shaking like a leaf, she told her son exactly what had happened, and how she had come down to collect her mobile and found the young man astride the window sill.

  ‘So you don’t know whether he was coming in or leaving?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Have you even checked to see if anything is missing?’ Tim said.

  ‘No! It never entered my head to do so.’

  ‘Well, go on. Make sure. If anything has been taken then you can tell the police when they come around to see you tomorrow.’

  Betty crossed to the bureau and opened it. All her papers were in order, and neatly arranged as always. She burrowed underneath them and brought out a purse, opened it and counted the contents.

  ‘Everything is here,’ she said with relief.

  ‘How much have you in that purse?’ Tim frowned.

  ‘Three hundred pounds,’ Betty said, closing the purse and putting it back underneath the papers.

  ‘Why on earth have you that much in there?’ Tim asked.

  ‘In case of an emergency. I might need money and not feel well enough to go to the bank,’ she said.

  ‘Madness keeping all that money in the house,’ Tim said crossly.

  ‘No, it’s not. I’ve just explained I might need it.’

  ‘If you weren’t well enough to go to the bank then all you have to do is phone me and I’ll bring you what you need,’ Tim said crossly.

  ‘I know that, but I do like to be independent and make sure I have some,’ Betty repeated.

  ‘I understand, but you don’t need to keep quite such a large amount,’ Tim insisted.

  They looked at each other and Betty was the first to break the silence. ‘What do you suggest?’ she asked.

  ‘One hundred pounds for emergencies would be ample,’ Tim told her firmly. ‘After all, you have only to press a button and I’m right here – you proved that today.’

  Eight

  The first thing the next morning, Peter Brown was at Betty’s door, closely followed by Sally Bishop.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Peter asked anxiously.

  ‘Of course she is,’ Sally laughed. ‘You didn’t think that the ambulance was for her, did you?’

  ‘I didn’t know what to expect,’ Peter said, shaking his head. ‘I heard someone screaming but it sounded like a man’s voice not a woman’s. Then the police arrived and the ambulance just minutes later, and I didn’t know whether to come help or not.’

  ‘I was the same,’ Sally confessed. ‘When I saw Tim drive up I thought it was best to mind my own business. He knows where I live and, if there was anything I could do, I knew he’d come and tell me.’

  ‘So what was all the fuss about?’ Peter asked. ‘Why were the police and an ambulance here?’

  Peter roared with laughter when Betty told him about what had happened.

  ‘That was a damn clever move on your part,’ he said with a broad smile when she told them how she had trapped the intruder and held him captive, with his leg stuck in the sash window.

  ‘I had to leave him sitting there on the window sill until the police came and helped to lift the sash window back up again. Judging by his screams and groans, he was in terrible pain. I feel awful now!’

  ‘Serves him right for trying to break in,’ Sally stated.

  ‘He won’t forget that in a hurry,’ Peter said.

  ‘No, I’m afraid he won’t because the window came down much quicker than I expected it to and it not only trapped his leg but broke it.’

  ‘Broke it!’

  ‘Yes, it was horrible when I heard the bone crunching,’ Betty said shaking her head sadly, ‘and he screamed and called me terrible names when I refused to lift up the window and free him.’

  ‘You mean he had to sit there on the sill with a broken leg until the police came and helped you to lift up the window?’ Peter questioned.

  ‘Yes,’ Betty replied with a nod, ‘I’m afraid he did. Those sash windows are so terribly heavy that I couldn’t do it on my own.’

  ‘No, and you probably didn’t want to even try,’ Sally Bishop said, the smile spreading across her face as she spoke.

  ‘Did he manage to take anything?’ Peter asked.

  ‘I think he was probably just on his way in,’ Betty admitted. ‘You see, nothing has been touched and nothing taken.’

  ‘You’ve been very lucky,’ Peter concluded.

  ‘Yes, that’s what Tim said. He also warned me about not keeping so much money in the house.’


  ‘Keeping money in the house is damn silly, I agree with him,’ Peter said firmly.

  ‘Oh don’t you start, I’ve had enough from Tim to last me a lifetime.’

  ‘I should jolly well hope so. Why have more money in the house than what you’re going to spend over the next few days?’

  ‘For emergencies, of course,’ Betty explained.

  ‘Emergencies! What emergencies?’

  ‘If I was taken ill and I couldn’t get out to buy any milk or food, and I had to ask one of you to go and get it for me you would want the money, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Not at that moment I wouldn’t,’ Peter said. ‘I’m quite sure that neither Sally nor I are so hard up that we couldn’t manage to buy you a pint of milk and a loaf of bread if we have to do so.’

  ‘That’s not the point,’ Betty said firmly. ‘I like to be independent; I like to pay my way.’

  ‘We all know that,’ Peter told her, ‘but surely to goodness, if you needed some money one of us would let you have it if you couldn’t get to the bank.’

  ‘Yes well, that’s what Tim says so I will not keep as much in future.’

  ‘Don’t keep any at all,’ Peter said, ‘then you won’t attract burglars. Now that’s all over and you’ve had a good telling off, what you need now is something to cheer you up,’ he told Betty firmly.

  ‘Oh yes and what’s that mean?’

  ‘You and Sally get your coats on. I’ll take you to Windsor, leave you over there, and come back for you in a couple of hours’ time.’

  ‘What do we want to go to Windsor for?’ Betty asked frowning.

  ‘Have a couple of hours out enjoying yourselves. Spend some of the money you’ve been hoarding for emergencies!’