Page 5 of Lie For Me

She patted down the twisted bun of frizzy hair balanced on top of her head.

Cassie pulled a face, and Lucy glanced down at her faded T-shirt with the little splatters of coffee from the morning and a fresh dusting of Hobnob crumbs.

‘Tuh, well, obviously I will be better dressed and not comfort eating.’ Cassie raised her eyebrows. ‘Okay, I’ll be better dressed,’ Lucy conceded.

Floorboards creaked along the corridor, and Lucy turned towards the door as voices drew closer.

‘Uh oh,’ Cassie said, and ducked behind her computer.

A stout woman in her seventies with tightly coiffed grey hair and bushy black eyebrows, brandishing a leather-bound clipboard, appeared in the doorway.

‘Lucy!’ Dot said in a frustrated tone. ‘There you are.’

She announced this as if finding Lucy in her office, where she spent much of her time, had involved a search of the entire estate.

‘Hello, Dot. Hello, Edward and Anne,’ Lucy said sitting up straight behind her desk as Dot advanced into the room, flanked by her dutiful assistants.

‘How are you all?’ Lucy asked, looking around at the three of them.

Anne, who looked permanently on the cusp of an apology, opened her mouth to answer, while Edward, red-faced and clutching at his chest after being marched up three flights of stairs, raised a feeble hand in greeting.

‘We’re fine,’ Dot answered for all of them.

Anne closed her mouth.

Dot, the self-appointed head of the volunteers, helped Lucy coordinate much of the day-to-day work for the other volunteers at Dulcetcoombe. In fact, Dulcetcoombe owed its survival to the hard work of Dot and the first group of dedicated community activists she had gathered around her over a decade ago. They had worked tirelessly to ensure the council did not sell off the estate to developers after it fell into disrepair and to prove to the timid local councillors that they could turn Dulcetcoombe from a liability into an asset.

Dot was, at the same time, Lucy’s greatest ally and asset and the bane of Lucy’s life. With her exacting standards and brusque communication style, Lucy spent a good deal of every week smoothing over the issues caused by Dot.

Never one to engage in pleasantries, Dot cut to the chase.

‘We’re here about Sticky Dicky.’

Lucy, who had been sipping on her coffee when Dot announced this, spluttered as she tried to swallow.

‘For God’s sake, girl, what’s up with you?’ Dot said, shaking her head.

‘Dot,’ Lucy gasped and held up her hand to ward Dot off. ‘I’ve told you, you can’t call him that.’

Bristling, Dot smacked her clipboard smartly on the desk.

‘The man’s name is Dick. He’s a smelly, sticky-looking chap who never met a flannel he didn’t like. Sticky Dicky is simply a fair description of the state of him. He was giving house tours earlier this week, and I am quite sure…’ she wrinkled her nose, ‘that I was not the only one who could smell him coming.’

Lucy wiped a tear from her eye and mopped at the fresh coffee stain on her top with a tissue she found in her desk drawer. She looked at Dot, entirely unsure what to say next.

‘Dot, as the head of the volunteers, perhaps you could talk to him in the first instance and—’

‘I have. Twice now.’ Dot gave a prim jerk of the head. ‘I’ve been very clear about the standards expected. The man just grins mindlessly at me.’

Lucy could see Cassie’s shoulders convulsing behind her computer screen. Dot followed Lucy’s gaze.

‘I don’t know what you’re laughing at, missy,’ she said to Cassie. ‘You’ll end up with complaints about him on one of those visitor feedback cards you’re so fond of.’

Cassie abruptly stopped laughing and gathered the feedback forms to her chest.

‘Yes, of course. Sorry, Dot,’ she said.

Lucy smiled inwardly.

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