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Tens and twenties floating away in the breeze while Aggie jumped through the air. She’d hit her—full-force in the center of her chest, throw her down and pin her to the ground.
    Mrs. Peabody stuffed a handkerchief into her handbag, and surveyed the floor. “I think that’s everything. Thank you ever so much for your help, dear.” She grabbed her shopping, and edged tentatively past preacher-man. The local bobby arrived as Mrs. Peabody disappeared around the corner. Everyone was shouting.
    Alex straightened her clothes and checked her waistband again.
    “Alex, stop fingering the money, someone will see.”
    Alex put her hands by her sides, but they fidgeted with a mind of their own. She settled for clasping them in front of her, where she could keep an eye on them, and took a few steps towards the commotion.
    “Aggie, is it okay if I leave? I feel awful. I think I’ve got a migraine coming on, or something.”
    Aggie stopped to check her over. “You do look pale.”
    Alex nodded. “I just didn’t know if you needed my help with the, um, situation.” She tilted her head at preacher-man, who was now directing his sermon into the precinct. The noise was still deafening, and no one dared make their way past him and into The Closet. Aggie and the policeman had been discussing the possible methods for exorcising the preacher as she’d walked up.
    “That’s fine, Alex. Go home and lie down. When’s your next shift?” Aggie shouted above an exceptionally loud quoting of the testament.
    “Thursday, I’m here on Thursday,” Alex said, edging away from her boss.
    “Feel better, and see you in two days,” Aggie turned back to the policeman.
    Alex wandered through the shop out the staff door and into the tearoom where the lockers were. As she reached for her waistband, Clive caught her wrist. “Not here. At home.”
    “What if it all falls out halfway there?” Her vision changed. Now she was on the high street. Bills floated in the breeze, blowing everywhere. Crowds of people ran towards her, plucking money from the air.
    “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you the whole way. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens.” He pressed his palms against her shoulders, his long fingers finding knots and kneading them out. Clive’s touch was soothing … therapeutic, like hot stones. Without warning, his hands left her back, and Alex almost toppled over.
    “So much for being with me the whole bloody way!” Alex shouted into the empty room. “Oh my God.” Alex clasped a hand to her mouth. “I’m cracking up. Crazy as a box of biscuits and a thief to boot.”
    Alex grabbed her bag and coat out of the locker. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she whispered. “I’m even talking to myself now. That’s a sign of insanity.” She shook her head, as a crushing sense of helplessness grew and seemed to fill her. Alex still had to get out of the shop, past the crowd at the door, and all the way home. She took a deep breath and began by leaving the tearoom.

Chapter Three
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
    A lex stepped out from the staff area, and took a deep breath. Her hands seemed magnetized, creeping constantly back to her tummy where the roll of notes was still hidden. Arms clamped at her side, she chose a circuitous route through the maze of clothing rails, avoiding both Aggie and the policeman. They would be very interested if her trousers began to regurgitate £20 bills all over the shop floor. Alex kept her eyes fixed on the linoleum, and concentrated on escape.
    Someone grabbed Alex. She suppressed a squeal, and looked up to find Becky staring—silent, but worried.
    “Aggie’s let me go home sick,” Alex said. “Sorry.” She put a hand to her ear, mimed call me , and kept going. Her legs wanted to run, to sprint away from Bec and out of the precinct. Her best friend already knew something was wrong. Alex recognized it in her frown, the way she cocked her head, long black hair falling to one side. Perfectly still,