McQueen's Agency by Maureen Reynolds Page B

motive in being in the house. ‘I’d love to know a bit more about her,’ Joe had said to him. The only people pleased by her were Kenneth and Lena who seemed to find her good at her job.
    Because he was curious about the newcomer he decided to wander up the Wellgate and see this agency for himself. It was a bit of a disappointment when he saw it. The tiny shop with a house above it looked quite neglected in spite of the fresh coat of paint.
    He would have loved to get some information on the owner but he knew this wasn’t possible. He knew it was no business of his but he always liked to find out things about people and because Joe was suspicious of her, well he just wanted to know something about her. Then, if Joe ever mentioned again that he didn’t trust her working with them, he could maybe give him a few bits of information. Also, this skulking about gave him pleasure and he had always liked to spy on people. Especially women and girls.
    Suddenly the door opened and the young receptionist came out onto the pavement. According to his information her name was Mary. She stood on the pavement, looking up and down, a look of uncertainty on her face. He saw another young girl hurry down the street to meet up with Mary.
    They started to walk up the Wellgate towards the tram stop on Victoria Road. He was torn between following them and keeping the shop under observation. He glanced across the road and saw that Molly was still working, busy typing at the desk.
    He decided to follow the two young girls. Unaware that they were under scrutiny, he overheard their chatter.
    ‘I don’t want to go to Kidd’s Rooms, Mary,’ said the friend.
    Mary looked unhappy. ‘I don’t think my Mum will want me to go to the Palais. Is it not for older people, Rita?’
    ‘Well I think Kidd’s Rooms just caters for kids. It’s well named and if you don’t want to go, I can always go on my own.’
    Mary gave this some thought. ‘All right. Come round to the house at seven o’clock and we’ll go to the Palais. But remember, if I don’t like it, I’m going back to Kidd’s Rooms next week.’
    The tramcar hovered into sight and the two girls got on board.
    So that was the destination for the evening he thought, making his way past the agency. It was locked up and the blind had been pulled down at the window.
    He glanced down the street but there was no sign of Molly. She must have shut up shop the minute he set off after the girls.
    The whole evening stretched out in front of him. He debated about going to the pictures or the dancing. He had liked the look of the two girls so he decided on the dancing. He looked at his watch again. It was almost six o’clock. He was starting to feel hungry so he set off along the High Street towards the Palais. There was a wonderful aroma coming from the Deep Sea fish and chip shop so he decided to go and have something to eat before going to the dancing.
    At seven o’clock he made his way to Tay Street, making for the Ascot Bar on the corner of the street where he decided to go for a couple of drinks. The bar was busy but he was served almost immediately and he carried his glass of whisky over to a corner of the bar counter.
    At half past seven, after another two drinks, he went down the street towards the Palais.
    The queue, which had formed earlier, had dispersed quickly and he was able to buy his ticket right away.
    He scrutinised his reflection in the mirror of the Gents cloakroom. He was pleased with what he saw. A tall, slim man with a well-cut suit, white shirt and somewhat gaudy tie. It was a pity about the tie, he thought, but there was nothing he could do now. He could hardly take it off because he knew the dancehall had a strict dress code policy. He had been here before but not for over a year.
    Upstairs, he quickly scanned the crowd. The band was playing a quickstep and the floor was crowded with dancers.
    He spotted Mary and Rita. They were sitting on a settee, looking wistfully at the