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With his final payment in his pocket, Toby and Suzie said goodbye and made their way back to the truck.
‘Let’s get that money straight into the bank and make sure it doesn’t bounce,’ said Suzie.
‘There should be a branch around here somewhere. It is a business district, even if it is a bit rundown,’ replied the practical Toby, as he put the truck into gear and pulled away from the kerb.
They found a branch just around the corner, in the street running parallel to the fund’s shop.
‘The bank must be almost directly behind their shop,’ said Toby.
‘There’s probably just an alleyway separating them.’
A sign advised the public that this branch would be closing permanently in several weeks time and that the building was for sale, giving the address of the nearest alternative branch.
As Toby read the sign, he said: ‘It’s probably too old fashioned for the bank’s management. They probably wanted to tear it down and build something modern but found out that it’s a listed building.’
‘Thank heavens they can’t tear it down. That would be sacrilege. It’s a beautiful building.’
The bank was in the style of the early twentieth century and built to resemble an ancient Greek temple, with columns supporting the roof of a short stoa and fancy carving on the sandstone surrounding the wooden window frames.
Inside, the bank was fitted out in Italian marble, looking very grand and resembling an Egyptian tomb. The main banking chamber rose two storeys to a high vaulted ceiling above a balustraded mezzanine level of offices.
Toby made out a deposit form and went to wait in line.
Suzie carefully studied all the intricately carved marble and mentally calculated the worth of the property while assessing its place in the neighbourhood and what other uses it could be put to.
‘I’d love to be able to do something with a place like this. It has so much potential.’
Toby looked around: ‘I suppose it would make a good funeral parlor.’
‘You have no vision at all. I can see lots of uses for a place like this.’
Toby moved forward to the next free teller and deposited the cheque. ‘Doesn’t the bank want this building anymore?’ Toby asked the teller.
‘Businesses in the area have been closing up because of the big shopping mall they’ve opened just down the road. The bank has opened a small branch in the mall, so we’re redundant. They’re making me move to a branch about three suburbs away. It’s going to take me forever to get there and home again.’
As they left the bank, Toby said to Suzie: ‘Don’t get too carried away. This place will probably end up being a bingo hall.’
With business finished, Suzie took charge. She knew how reluctant Toby was to spend money and thought it was because he didn’t have too much of it to spend.
She took her credit card out of her purse and waved it under his nose.
‘Now, my love, we are going to experience the magic of plastic to turn you, the rustic Adonis, into a suave and urbane gentleman-about-town.’
‘I can buy my own clothes,’ he protested.
‘You can buy your own work clothes, but I am not having my handsome husband escort me to frightfully expensive restaurants in work boots and jeans, even if you do look so utterly sexy in them.’
‘But I don’t want you spending money on me. I want to pay you back.’
Suzie slipped her hand between his legs.
‘You will, my love, you definitely will.’
Hours later, they returned to Walton village with a truck cab filled with shopping bags.
Toby was quiet as he concentrated on the driving, happy to have spent the day with the love of his life.
Suzie had enjoyed herself as well. She thought Toby looked adorable in the outfits she had bought for him.
Excited at the prospect of their future life together, her mind relaxed and she told Toby what she could have done with the bank building and how it could be reborn, if only she had her way.
Sam and Bree had a problem. The girl in the ill-matched, colourful clothes wouldn’t leave. She wandered around, studying everything for about the tenth time.
The agents stood behind the counter and watched her. They needed her out of their way. Plans had been made and they needed to catch flights that would eventually enable them to reach Hannah Post. This strange girl was slowing them down.
Finally, Bree had had enough: ‘Can we help you with something?’
The girl turned to them: ‘It’s all wrong.’
‘What is?’
‘All of it. You don’t seem to have the least idea about what you’re doing. It’s all mixed up and goes nowhere.’
‘Well that’s our problem, isn’t it?’ asked Bree.
‘It could be so much better. It’s a worthwhile cause but you’ve done it all wrong. Haven’t you done this before?’
‘What’s it got to do with you?’ asked Bree, becoming annoyed.
‘I’ve worked for Greenpeace since I was a child. I saw you come in and steal those posters. Why would you need to do that? Don’t you have any of your own?’
Sam and Bree looked at one another. The girl could prove to be a problem, especially if she decided to speak to the wrong people. An investigation of their fund wouldn’t reveal anything illegal. However, people snooping into their cover would cause an unnecessary detraction to their mission.
‘We could always kill her,’ whispered Sam, only half seriously.
‘It’ll take too long to get rid of the body,’ replied Bree, objectively.
‘Stick it in the fridge till we get back?’
‘That’d make the milk turn.’
The girl continued to wander, showing no sign of leaving. To make matters worse, other people were stopping outside, studying the logo in the window and looking interested. If they decided to come in and browse as well, it would throw their timetable completely out.
Sam wandered out from behind the counter, moving
