Read The Pleasures of Spring for Free Online

that she’s okay. No harm in that. Right, Dave?’
    ‘Well, if you say so.’ His voice trailed away and he handed over the clipboard stacked with loan applications.
    Andy flicked through them quickly. None for Roz Spring or any variation on that name, but one form caught his eye. An Elaine O’Kennedy, who wanted to borrow money for baby supplies. Bingo! According to the information she had given, she lived less than a mile away.
    Andy memorized the address and handed the clipboard back. Roz might be a thieving little bitch, but she was also pregnant and in trouble. He’d better hurry.
    Number nine, Davis Street, proved to be a boarded up corner shop beside a high rise estate. The broken windows on the upper floors and the rusted hinges told him that no one was at home.
    ‘Clever girl.’ He had to admire her audacity in trying to scam the moneylender, but he was facing another dead end.
    His new phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished it out. ‘McTavish.’
    ‘How much do you love me?’ Reilly’s cheerful voice teased him.
    ‘Why? What did you do?’
    ‘I’ve managed to trace your phone.’
    ‘Well, in that case, let’s get married immediately. I want you to have my babies.’
    ‘And sit at home minding them while you’re off flying your kite? Dream on.’ Reilly snorted. ‘Your target is a clever girl. The phone is dead. She must have removed the battery and SIM card, but she didn’t know about the GPS locator in the battery.’
    Andy laughed. ‘Where is she?’
    Reilly rattled off an address in Peckham.
    Andy stepped into the street to wave down a passing taxi. ‘Oh, I’ve got you now, darling.’
    Andy held the door open for a dark-eyed woman pushing a twin buggy and slipped into the building. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. The place needed a paint job, but the small lobby contained a community notice board advertising drugs awareness and a mother-and-baby group in the local church hall. Andy checked his GPS locator app for his missing phone.
    Number fifty-seven was on the fifth floor. The cardboard handwritten sign on the lift announced that it was broken, so he found the stairs and began climbing. He winced at the thought of a pregnant woman climbing all those stairs. When he finally reached the fifth floor, Andy tapped on the door and waited. No response. He tapped again and then gave up. He picked the lock quickly and let himself inside.
    The flat wasn’t what he expected. It was neat and tidy but not the type of place he imagined Roz living in. She was wild and vibrant, with too large a personality for this tiny space.
    ‘Anyone home?’ he called, and when no one replied he took it as an invitation to search.
    On the mantelpiece above the gas fire was his phone, neatly taken apart. He re-assembled it and switched it on. She hadn’t made any calls, but she’d been nosing around his Yahoo account. What was she up to now?
    The living room revealed little of interest, except fora bag that contained knitting patterns and skeins of brightly coloured wool. She must have a flatmate. He couldn’t imagine Roz as a knitter in a million years. Mind you, he had found it impossible to believe she was pregnant and he couldn’t understand why it pissed him off so much.
    The wardrobe of one bedroom was stuffed with clothes, and none of them would fit a woman more than five feet tall. Roz could change a lot of things about her appearance but she couldn’t make herself short. Andy guessed she was at least five seven.
    The other room was barely big enough to hold a single bed. A faint hint of perfume hung in the air and he inhaled deeply. Yes, it was definitely Roz’s room.
    He riffled through her lingerie drawer without a hint of shame. Roz had some nice stuff. Not a lot, but nothing tatty. He pulled open another drawer. Laid out as neatly as a department store display was a collection of gloves, ranging from fingerless workout gloves to woolly mittens and expensive evening gloves. Well, well.