Full Stop by Joan Smith

occurred to her to speak to Dolores, who was so far away that she couldn’t possibly have any connection with Michael or prejudice the inquiry. Loretta rapidly dialled the San Francisco number, remembering the time difference only as Dolores’s answering-machine cut in and informed her — luckily, since it was only five-thirty in the morning — that Dolores had gone to Los Angeles for the weekend. Loretta cut the connection, thinking there was no point in leaving a message; she tried Donelly, muttered something when his prediction proved correct and she got the engaged tone, and went into the kitchen. On the fridge door, secured by a magnet, was a list of essential numbers Toni had left behind, starting with the emergency vet. Loretta found Jay’s parents’ number in Sag Harbor and dialled it, hearing the phone ring only twice before an answering-machine cut in and an unctuous female voice — Jay’s mother, Loretta assumed — announced that the Minister wasn’t able to come to the phone right now.
    â€˜You may leave messages and requests for prayers after the tone,’ it went on. ‘Please specify the full name of the friend or relative who needs the Minister’s intervention, and a
brief
-heavily stressed — ‘outline of their affliction. Please also leave your own name and telephone number so we can follow up with you. Donations to church funds may be made by credit card, please remember to give the name of the cardholder, number and expiry date and the amount of your donation. God bless you.’
    â€˜Blimey,’ said Loretta. Resisting the temptation to invent an aunt at death’s door and trying not to betray her amusement was Jay’s father listed in yellow pages under Dial-a-Prayer, she wondered? Prayers-to-go? — she spoke quickly into the receiver, asking Toni to ring her back in the next half hour or in the early evening. She put the phone down and went into the bathroom, reflecting that the Christian Right probably took a tough line on obscene phone calls but she preferred to put her faith in more worldly forms of intervention. Loretta turned on the taps, splashed some lily-scented oil into the bath and distractedly prepared to wash.
    In the other room, the phone sounded again. Loretta approached it warily, realising she had not asked Lieutenant Donelly how long it would be before the tap was in place.
    â€˜Hello,’ she said, steeling herself to deal with Michael.
    â€˜Loretta,’ cried Toni’s voice, sounding a long way off. She was shouting above background noise, what sounded like the insistent bleeping of a car alarm. ‘Loretta, can you hear me?’
    â€˜You’re
very
faint. Where are you?’
    â€˜At a payphone. It’s on the main street, that’s why there’s so much — thank God, someone’s finally turned off that alarm. How’s Honey doing?’
    â€˜She’s fine.’ Loretta glanced at the dog, puzzling over why Toni was using a payphone.
    â€˜Can you do me a favour?’
    â€˜Of course. Actually, I’ve just left a message for you with Jay’s parents. On their answering-machine. What’s all this stuff about requests for prayers?’
    Toni said impatiently: ‘He freelances.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜He
freelances,
’ Toni yelled, as though Loretta hadn’t heard her the first time. ‘People call him from all over the States. Loretta, I need most of these quarters to call my gyno — I left my address book behind and I need you to look up her number for me.’
    â€˜Your what?’
    â€˜My
gynaecologist.
It should be in my desk drawer, the second one down. A little red book. Don’t be too long or my money’11 run out.’
    â€˜Give me the number you’re on and I’ll call you back.’
    â€˜Excuse me? Sorry, Loretta, I don’t think this phone takes incoming calls. Can you go get it?’
    She found the