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(Page 2 of 2) A Wee Dram by Michael Aaron
 (4 ratings)
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Couldn't send Anna, she's with Geoffrey. He's run off with her, apparently. Have you seen...My God! Jane, what happened? Are you all right? Have we been burgled?"
Suit neatly pressed, shirt and tie from a pre-determined list. Hand made brogues from a specialist shoemaker in Denmark. And a company laptop, just like the one lying broken next to Jane. The only thing different about him was the rather sweet look of complete puzzlement and concern.
Harold made sure she was unharmed, then put a hand to his mouth, taking in the panorama. "I just came back for Geoff's laptop. Mine needed a new battery. I can't believe it. Have you called the police? Were you here? Did you see anything?"
"So," Jane said, "that's not your laptop?"
Harold saw the broken computer on the floor. "No, it's Geoff's. He lent it to me yesterday. I came back early to get it, so I can drop it off at his place later. Turned out I didn't need one today anyway."
Jane took another drink from the upturned bottle. Harold wrapped his arms round her shoulders, cradled her.
"Don't you worry about a thing, I'll take care of this. First thing we need to do is call the police, work out what's been stolen, get the insurance sorted. I'll call Vanya, she can make a start on the cleaning once they've had a look."
Jane wanted to beat his chest, scream, cry, tell him to jump off a cliff. His cool, measured reaction was going to fix the plates, mend the glasses, paper over the cracks.
But Harold was so good at dealing with things like this. Silly to let the place stay messy, after all. After his customary meal at eight-thirty, there would be a few minutes before the news when they could talk. Until then, best to let him sort things out. He was so good at it. Jane put an arm over his shoulder, agreed it was a terrible state of affairs, sat back. She took the little tree and set it on her lap, stroked the leaves.
Poor little thing, she thought. You need someone to look after you.
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