Rallying call

Alice put the phone down. "Well that's them on their way, Molly," she said. "What next?"

The Wee Hoose was suddenly alive with activity, with Molly giving out orders to Alice and Margaret and other women arriving in ones and twos. Margaret looked around; she counted twelve of them in all, now. The small kitchen was becoming distinctly crowded. And as people kept arriving, the kettle was almost constantly being boiled, for a continuous flow of tea.

Molly looked round the room too, and nodded to herself as if pleased with something. Picking up a spoon, she rapped it smartly against the side of bowl. The sound produced wasn't loud, but somehow silenced the room instantly.

"Thank you ladies," she said. "Not just for your attention, not just for turning up today, but for your support and friendship over many years."

She paused. The assembled women knew better than to say anything.

"As I'm sure you know, certain people" - she nodded at Armstrong - "are holding my grandson captive at the moment. As I'm sure you'll agree, this will not do. That's why, ladies, we're going to get him back."

There were forceful murmurings of agreement, but nothing too emotional; anyone who'd overdone it would have been severely frowned upon.

"Some friends will be arriving soon to take care of Mr Armstrong here," continued Molly. "And then, ladies, we attack."



Part Three begins here.