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  Fortunately, Katie’s mother interrupted everyone at this point, before I could make my life sound any worse.

  “We thought we’d make a bit of a party of it tonight because Katie’s here,” she announced, bringing a plate of something pastry based from the kitchen. “Instead of just watching television, Frank’s gotten out the karaoke machine!”

  I slid my aunt a look of pure hatred as Katie grabbed my arm and squealed.

  “Oh, don’t you love karaoke?”

  Was it possible to say no and still be a good guest?

  A sheet of song titles appeared and was passed to my aunt and Kostas who didn’t even have the grace to look appalled. Another couple arrived and seemed thrilled at the idea of an impromptu sing song. I felt I was living in my own personal hell.

  Later, I realised how silly I had been. The evening didn’t become really hell-like until Kostas began singing ‘Sexual Healing’, circling his septuagenarian hips along with the music. Everything before had just been the warm up.

  Thankfully, I found a bottle of gin at the back of a display cabinet. After I’d poured a large amount of it into my glass of orange squash (they knew how to live it up), I enjoyed the party much more and, after more gin, even felt strangely compelled to sing myself.

  The next thing I remembered was a loud banging on the door. For a split second, I thought it was the police come to haul me off to prison, how embarrassing would that be in front of my aunt’s friends. Then I caught a glimpse of the clock and realised the police would never be here at that time in the morning.

  “Jennifer. You’re going to be late for work.” My aunt’s voice sounded in the distance. “Are you awake?”

  I opened my mouth to answer and found I had swallowed an amount of sandpaper in the night. My head was not happy to have been woken up and my stomach agreed with it.

  It seemed easier to show her than try to speak, so I staggered over to the door and threw it open.

  “You look like the creature from the black lagoon!” my aunt laughed. She was holding a glass of water though, so I forgave her. “Do you want anything to eat?” she asked as I downed the water in one.

  I shook my head at her and waved the glass for some more.

  “Don’t go back to bed,” she told me as I was turning around, grabbing my arm to halt the overwhelming urge to crawl back among the sheets. “You’re due at work in twenty minutes, just jump in the shower.”

  Leading me down the corridor, she ushered me into the bathroom where I had to fight another urge to sit on the toilet for the rest of the morning.

  Aunt June was still hovering as I emerged from the bathroom a little later, feeling slightly more human, but not much. “I don’t know how you let yourself get into this mess,” she nagged. As she had now produced a cup of coffee, I forgave her that as well.

  “Are you sure you don’t want an egg or something?” she asked, proving she did have an evil side in there somewhere.

  “No, my stomach isn’t up to it. Must be the quiche your friend served last night, it was probably off.”

  “Yes, either that or the pint of gin you drank.”

  Ignoring her, I made it back to my bedroom to dress. The clothes I’d worn to the office the day before were still lying on a chair, so I crawled into them, not caring what state they were in. My head and stomach told me drying my hair was a physical impossibility at the moment, so I bypassed that by tying it back. The makeup was deposited in my bag until my eyes had started focussing enough to be able to apply it.

  I opened my door triumphant at my herculean effort to be ready to face a day of work despite a raging hangover.

  My aunt wouldn’t let me drive, convinced I was still over the limit. I hadn’t drunk that much last night (had I?), but it was better for my head just to get in the car than stand and argue with her. Especially as one of our neighbours, Helena, was in her front garden to witness it. We both gave her a polite wave as we got in the car.

  “You certainly enjoyed yourself last night. I’m not sure the rest of us can say the same,” my aunt started after we’d pulled away and were safely out of Helena’s earshot.

  “What d’you mean? You and Kostas were having a right knees up.”

  “That was before the drink got the better of you.” She shot me a glance. “I suppose you don’t remember any of it, do you?”

  “Not much. What happened?” I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know but I couldn’t help asking.

  “You insisted on gathering everyone around to tell them all about some bloke from back home.”

  The headache was suddenly forgotten as I gave my aunt a sharp look.

  “Oh no.” I closed my eyes and wished it wasn’t true. Had I really told everyone what had happened back home? It would be all over town by now. My hand found the lever and I wound the window down for some fresh air. “I told everyone everything?”

  “No. You threw up in the ornamental pond before you got the chance.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “Jennifer! If you get time this morning, you might want to ring Frank and Kate and apologise.”

  “Right.”

  “What they’ll be thinking this morning I don’t know. Is this how you behaved at parties back home?”

  “No, of course not. I’m sorry, Aunt June, I guess I’ve been feeling a bit homesick lately.”

  “For most people, it isn’t a literal feeling. I hope Kate and Frank understand. They are good friends of mine.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.”

  “Right, here we are.”

  The police building appeared on my left, I was at work already.

  “Have a nice day,” my aunt told me, opening my door and waiting expectantly for me to get out.

  I obliged her, resolving to try to sort things out with her when I got home. At that moment, the end of the day seemed a frighteningly long way off.

  Plastering a smile on my face, I entered the office in what I felt was a confident and, more importantly, sober manner. I hoped the only corpse I would be thinking about today was my own.

  9 Lucky Lucky Me

  “What’s the matter with you?” Vara asked, moments after I’d walked in. Obviously, my sober walk wasn’t fooling anyone.

  “Bad head. And stomach.”

  “Are you hungover?”

  “That’s another way of putting it,” I admitted, slowly sitting down at my desk. Vara was wearing a vivid orange coloured top. I had to look away.

  “That’s often a bad sign, when expatriates turn to alcohol,” she said.

  “I haven’t turned to alcohol, I just had a few too many, that’s all.”

  “The government set up a helpline, there’s a number somewhere.” To my horror she opened a drawer in her desk and started rustling through.

  “Vara,” I said too loudly and had to put a hand to my head. “Having a few drinks one time doesn’t constitute a problem.” I was surprised, Vara had never come across as a prude before.

  “Here’s a number, for next time.”

  That gave me a lovely warm glow. She held a card out and waved it insistently so I had to walk over and take it.

  “Thanks.” I was about to drop it on my desk when I saw what was written on it. “Matina’s Booze?”

  “Mention my name, she’ll give you a good discount.”

  “I’ll add it to my list.”

  The glare of my computer screen was too much for my headache, so I escaped to the kiosk for some water. Addi was sitting there, alone, staring into the distance. He looked how I felt.

  “Alright?” I managed to mumble.

  “Hmm.”

  At last, a level of conversation I could cope with. I poured some water and sat next to him.

  After what felt like hours, but was probably only ten minutes, I remembered what had happened last night (pre gin).

  “Rang you last night.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Your mum wouldn’t put you on.”

  He turned slightly to look at
me. “Oh no, really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about?”

  “I don’t know, she didn’t say.”

  “No, what did you ring about?”

  “Oh. Oh! Aunt June had a tip.”

  “About what?”

  All this talk was wearing me out, I was starting to wish I’d waited to tell him when my head had cleared a bit more. “The trophy theft,” I told him, waving my hand as if that would make him understand.

  “What is it? The tip.”

  Could I remember? “It’s a woman’s name.”

  “Yes?” Addi was sitting forward now, literally on the edge of his seat.

  “Don’t push me, I won’t be able to remember.” My head was still pounding, the fact that I could even remember my own name was some kind of miracle.

  “Is it a woman in the organisation?”

  “No idea.”

  “Try to think what letter the name starts with”.

  “I’m trying but my head’s killing me!” I did genuinely try to remember for a few seconds. “No, I’ll have to give Aunt June a ring later.”

  Addi’s production of his mobile phone meant I’d have to ring Aunt June now.

  “Please? I really need a break in this case,” he said.

  I rang Aunt June.

  “She doesn’t know anything about a break-in in Jasmine Gardens as well, does she?” he asked as it was ringing.

  I gave him a withering look.

  “I don’t think she’s going to be helping us again in a hurry,” I remarked, hanging up after speaking to her. Addi wrote down the name I’d been trying to remember. “She really wasn’t happy.”

  “Do you know who this woman is?” he asked.

  “No idea.”

  “I’ll do a name search. Talk to you later.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” I answered and sprawled back on the seat. I needed some recovery time after all that effort.

  I was still sitting there, nursing a glass of water, an hour later when Addi came back.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asked, only now noticing I wasn’t my normal, chipper self. With those powers of observation, it was no longer surprising he had so much trouble solving cases.

  “Not feeling too well today.”

  “Why don’t you go home?”

  And face the scorn of Aunt June? “I’ll be okay in a bit.” My head was starting to clear, maybe in another hour or so I might even be able to face doing some work.

  “I can’t find any information on this woman. The database hasn’t got anything on her, just a parking ticket a couple of years ago. I can’t see what she’s got to do with the theft.”

  “Have you spoken to her?”

  “No.”

  What did they teach them at police school round here? Was there even such a thing?

  “Don’t you think it might be an idea to interview her?”

  “I suppose so. I guess I’ll go give her a ring.”

  “No, Addi,” I called out before he got up. “Go and see her. You can’t see people’s reactions over the phone.”

  “Alright. Do you want to come?”

  It sounded like too much effort for the current state of my brain but I couldn’t hang around the kiosk all morning, I’d get rumbled eventually.

  “How far away is it?”

  “Not far, a few miles.”

  “Alright, let me get my jacket.” The weather had turned colder in the last few days and even I had conceded to wearing warmer clothes.

  Stepping out of the office into the cool, fresh air was like a shot of adrenalin. “Ah,” I exhaled loudly, breathing deeply and feeling the muddleness in my head receding.

  “You’re not going to throw up in my car, are you?” Addi asked.

  I thought about it for a second. “No,” I told him confidently.

  Ten minutes later, I worried perhaps I’d been overly optimistic.

  “What is this?” I asked as we bumped and bounced along a rough dirt track out of town.

  “This is the address we have for her. Probably a smallholding or something. These roads are a bit rough, aren’t they?”

  A bit rough? My head was pounding again from the constant jarring. We hit another pothole and I had to swallow hard as my stomach lurched. This woman would be charged with something for putting me through this if it was the last thing I did (which felt entirely possible at this point).

  The property, when we eventually got to the end of the track, looked like a broken down barn. Addi went investigating whilst I collapsed on an empty olive oil drum nearby.

  “This can’t be the right place,” Addi was moaning as he walked round the side of the building.

  I no longer cared where we were, just how we were going to get home again; I didn’t think my stomach could stand a return journey on that so-called road.

  “It doesn’t look like anyone lives here,” he continued, coming back round the other side. “Why has she given this as her address?”

  I watched him do another circuit of the barn just in case he’d missed a three bed bungalow lurking inside.

  “Nope, nobody here. Guess we’ll have to go back to HQ.”

  I let out another groan.

  Addi came and stood next to me. “You feeling ill still?”

  His powers of observation were truly astounding.

  “Listen, if your friends ever need any cheap booze, vodka, brandy, gin…”

  “Please stop talking.”

  “I know there’s an old farm track down the back of that field. Do you want me to try it instead? It may not be any better but it might be softer than this one, since it’s been raining.”

  I had been contemplating walking back to the main highway but in my state that seemed like a 10 mile hike. “Anything. Anything but that road again.”

  We had to endure a few more metres of rough, stony ground but once we hit the farm track it was bliss. The jarring stopped and, although we were lurching from rut to rut, it was a lot less harsh.

  “Much better, thanks,” I managed to mumble.

  “I thought it would be easier,” Addi told me, looking pleased with himself. “The ground here’s taken on some of the rainfall so it’s a lot softer.”

  No sooner had he said these words than the car lurched alarmingly into a massive puddle and stopped. Addi pressed the accelerator and the car filled with the sound of wheels spinning uselessly.

  “Maybe a bit too soft?”

  He gave a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

  Like the car, this day seemed to be lurching from one disaster to the next. Closing my eyes, I clicked my heels together and chanted: ‘there’s no place like home’ a few times, but it didn’t work. When I opened them again we were still stuck in the middle of nowhere.

  Addi got out and tried to push. The car didn’t budge.

  “Right, let’s see if we can find help,” he said, coming over all authoritative suddenly.

  “I think they’ve invented something for this situation. It’s called the mobile phone. Why don’t you just ring someone?”

  “Let’s see if there’s a farmer nearby first.”

  He didn’t want to have to ring the boys and tell them his car was stuck, that was the problem.

  “I’ll ring them,” I offered.

  “Let’s check the neighbouring fields first.”

  Reluctantly, I got out and followed him down the muddy track, not only feeling miserable but my stomach had calmed down enough to start reminding me it was a long time since I’d eaten anything.

  “You go that way, I’ll go this,” he suggested when we hit a fork at the bottom.

  Great. “Okay,” I agreed and watched him head off down his path. When he had gone a little way, I stepped back into the bushes with the idea of making myself a little nest inside (listen, I was now tired, cold and hungry). To my surprise I saw there was a building in the field behind the hedgerow. Too lazy to walk back around to the path, I forced my way through the rest of the hedge and h
eaded for it.

  I guess they didn’t hear me coming because they didn’t turn around. I heard the middle aged woman’s haughty English accent first, it made me wonder if this was really the place we had been looking for all along.

  “The bmws have to be ready for Wednesday, I’ve given my word,” she told the younger, dark haired man standing with her in front of the large, whitewashed house.

  “We’ve only got the silver one. Tony hasn’t been able to find a black one yet.” He seemed on the verge of shouting which slowed me down a little, I didn’t want to interrupt an argument to ask for a favour.

  “This town is crawling with bmws, you can’t walk down the street without almost being run over by one!”

  She had a point, even Addi drove a bmw (albeit a very elderly one). And it was black. Perhaps his car could help them out of whatever fix they were in? A little quid pro quo was always a good bargaining point. I approached more confidently, imagining how funny they would find it when I mentioned an example of what they sought could be found stuck in the mud just a couple of lanes away.

  “Not ones that match the spec,” the man screeched back. “If you think it’s so easy, you go out and steal it!”

  That stopped me.

  There’s nothing like being caught up in a crime to cure a person of a hangover. Suddenly, my headache had vanished and my stomach was forgotten. I was now solely focussed on getting out of this situation in one piece. I ducked quickly to the side and tried to hide behind a small tree.

  Peering round the trunk, I could see them still arguing. It didn’t seem like they had seen me, so I dropped down to my knees and started crawling back the way I had come.

  That few feet felt like a mile but eventually I was back at the hedge. I took a lot longer to crawl through it this time, trying not to disturb the foliage too much in case it got their attention. After a few sweat-filled minutes, I was through and running up the lane looking for Addi.

  “That was lucky,” Addi told me later when we eventually got back to the police building.

  “Lucky?”

  “My sat nav taking us to the wrong part of the farm. Doubt we would’ve found anything if we’d just driven up to the front door. And them talking about stealing cars just when you were there. That was a bit of a break.”