Part 1 (1/2)

Give Me Tomorrow.

Jeanne Whitmee.

Chapter One.

'Excuse me, madam, I must ask you to accompany me to the manager's office.'

Karen stared in amazement at the dark-suited man standing at her elbow. 'Why? I don't understand,' she said.

The man put his hand on her arm. 'If you'd just come back into the store with me ...'

Karen shook the hand off indignantly. 'Just tell me what the problem is.' She felt her cheeks warming and her heartbeat quickened as the curious eyes of other shoppers turned towards her. 'What do you want? Who are you?'

The man leaned towards her and lowered his voice. 'Come along now, madam. We don't want to make a scene, do we?'

'I'm not making a scene.' Karen could hear the rising note of alarm in her voice. 'I just want to know why you're asking me to go to the manager's office with you.'

The store detective glanced round him. 'Very well. If you insist, I have reason to believe you are concealing goods for which you have not paid.'

'What?' Karen caught her breath. 'You're accusing me of shoplifting?' She thrust her handbag into his hands. 'Here, look for yourself. My sister will tell you ...'

She turned around to Louise, who had been following her out of the store, only to find that her sister was nowhere to be seen. Bemused, she looked around her. Where on earth had she gone? Turning back to the detective, she saw that he had unzipped her bag and to her horror, the hand he dipped inside emerged holding a fragment of black lace with a store label attached to it. He looked at her triumphantly.

'I think you had better accompany me at once,' he said. 'If you refuse I shall be obliged to call security.'

Karen stared at the man. 'But that's not mine! I've never even seen it before. I didn't ...' Panic-stricken, she looked around again for Louise, who seemed to have vanished into thin air. Acutely aware of the eyes of other shoppers boring into her back, she followed the detective back into the store. As they walked through the ground-floor departments and through a door into a corridor, he was speaking on his mobile phone.

Neville Smith, the store manager, was a small man with an inflated awareness of his important position as manager of Hayward's department store. He wore a baggy grey suit and rimless gla.s.ses, and his thinning hair was carefully combed over his bald patch. He looked up sternly as Karen was presented to him.

'I must inform you here and now that it is the policy of Hayward's to prosecute shoplifters,' he said without preamble. 'We have suffered so much loss over recent months that we have to be stringent.'

'There is some mistake,' Karen said shakily. 'Those things in my bag I didn't take them. Perhaps you should look at your CCTV footage.'

The manager gave a sardonic little smile and pushed his gla.s.ses further up the bridge of his nose. 'May I point out that the fact that they are in your possession is more than enough to prove your guilt.' He glanced at the store detective. 'Did you witness the theft, Marshall?'

The store detective cleared his throat. 'A member of the public alerted me,' he replied.

Karen turned to him. 'Then whoever that was has made a grave mistake.'

Neville Smith treated her to another of his scornful little smiles. 'I'm afraid that's an all too familiar line, madam.'

Karen turned to the store detective. 'So where is this member of the public?'

Smith looked at the store detective. 'I take it you asked her to wait?'

Marshall looked a little fl.u.s.tered. 'I er no.'

Smith sighed. 'How many times must I tell you that any witnesses should be asked to wait?'

'She may still be in the store,' Marshall said quickly. 'I think she was on her way to the coffee lounge. I could probably find her.'

'Then I suggest you do so immediately.' As the detective left the room, the manager turned his attention to Karen. 'In the meantime, madam, would you be good enough to empty your handbag onto the desk?'

'No. I would not be good enough to empty my bag,' Karen said stubbornly. 'Not until you have proved that I am guilty. As I suggested before, surely you only need to view the tape in your CCTV to clear this whole thing up.' She opened her bag and pulled out what she now saw was a set of black lace designer lingerie which she laid on the manager's desk. 'These items are not mine but I did not steal them. Anything else in my bag is private.'

'I must warn you that once we have verified that the witness actually saw you conceal the goods, I shall be obliged to send for the police.'

Karen sighed. Her heart was hammering in her chest but she was determined not to let it show. 'Perhaps I can be permitted to sit down,' she said. If this woman insisted that she saw her take the goods what was she to do? Louise. This was Louise's doing. It had to be. She'd caused plenty of problems in the past but this was the last straw. Where on earth was she? How dare she land her in a mess like this and then just disappear?

'You may be seated,' the manager conceded pompously.

Karen sat down gratefully and an uncomfortable five minutes pa.s.sed as they waited. Then the office door opened to admit Marshall and a flas.h.i.+ly dressed woman with magenta hair. Karen stood up and moved aside. Marshall introduced the woman.

'This is Mrs Jones, sir. She is a regular customer here at Hayward's.'

'Quite so.' Smith's beady eyes a.s.sessed the woman's appearance. 'I understand that you witnessed an act of theft this afternoon, Mrs Jones.'

'That's right,' the woman said self-righteously. 'I hate to see a lovely store like Hayward's being taken advantage of. When I saw it I felt I had to report it at once.'

'Very public-spirited, I'm sure.'

'But I don't really want to be involved in any legal action,' she added guardedly. 'I don't want to be called to give evidence in court nor nothing.'

'All I need you to do for now is to identify this person as the one you saw taking the articles.' The manager glowered at the store detective. 'Marshall would you be good enough to step aside and allow Mrs Jones to see the accused?'

Marshall stepped smartly to one side and Karen and the woman came face to face. Karen looked directly into the other woman's eyes and immediately saw her confidence fade.

Mrs Jones bit her lip. 'Ah well she was certainly wearing a red coat like this person's got on,' she said. 'And I'm fairly sure that was the bag she stuffed them into or one like it. But the woman I saw take the knickers was a blonde.'

The manager looked irritated. 'Are you now saying that you are unsure?'

'Well, I definitely saw someone take the knick er undies and stuff them into a bag,' she said. 'But I'm sorry but I can't say for sure that it was this person, just someone in a red coat. Unless er ...'

'Unless what, Mrs Jones?'

'I suppose she could be wearing a wig,' she said.

Karen looked round at the other three people in the office. 'Perhaps one of you would like to try to test my hair,' she suggested, leaning forward.

'That will not be necessary.' The little man at the desk seemed to have diminished in size. His face flushed an unbecoming beetroot shade as he glared at the store detective. 'Thank you, Mrs Jones,' he said through clenched teeth. 'Perhaps next time you could make sure you are reporting the right person.'

The woman looked apologetically at Karen. 'I'm sorry if I caused you any bother,' she muttered.

'Oh, please don't worry yourself about it,' Karen said, trying not to sound sarcastic. She resisted saying, Maybe you should have gone to Specsavers.

Mrs Jones left the room hastily and Karen turned to the manager. 'Perhaps you would like to confirm what the witness has said by viewing your CCTV tape as I suggested?'