Chapter Ten: The Irresistible Ring

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The 'diamonds on the move' that Bob had smelt were on a large rotating turntable

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The 'diamonds on the move' that Bob had smelt were on a large rotating turntable. It was displayed in the window of a jeweller's shop. The drill had cut a hole in the metal shutter and the window just big enough for Marigold to squeeze Bob through.Bert had held the bag up to the hole to catch the jewellery as Bob pushed it out.

Marigold had kept watch. She'd jumped when the burglar alarm had begun to wail. But Bob had slid into the bag after the jewels and Bert had whisked them away before anyone had approached.

'We're going back now, aren't we?' she asked the bag as they whizzed through the air.

'Correct', Bob replied.

She sighed with relief.

Bob appeared at the top of the bag. He was licking his lips. 'But let's not be too hasty.' He prodded Bert in the chest. 'Down', he ordered.

'What?' exclaimed Marigold in disbelief.

'Need more', said Bert as he began to descend.

'Hover', hissed Bob when they were several feet above a short woman whose brown hair was tied in a bun.

Bert slowed down.

The woman was too busy talking on her phone to notice them.

Bob pulled out a small telescope from the bag and looked through it. 'Exquisite', he whispered.

'What difference will it make?' Marigold whispered back. 'We have enough. You're just being greedy.'

'I have to have that ring. I have to hold it', he insisted, collapsing the telescope and dropping it back inside the bag.

The woman put away her phone as she walked into a supermarket.

'Follow', said Bob as if hypnotised. His arms were outstretched and his fingers wiggled.

Bert increased the speed of his running.

'Stop!' cried Marigold. 'This is a very bad idea!'

But seconds later she was crouched low on top of one of the supermarket's shelves. She looked down at a few late night shoppers and the staff in the brightly lit aisles and her stomach churned. The woman with the bun was browsing beneath them.

'Act natural', said Bob from within the bag. 'You know the routine.'

Bert nodded.

'What routine? I don't know the routine', said Marigold. But before she could protest further, Bert had landed them at the end of the bun woman's aisle. He strode up to her with the trolley. 

Marigold froze. She felt sick. Customers and shop assistants were now milling all around them.

They'll never get away with it.

She looked around the corner and into the aisle.

Bert was touching the woman on her arm. 'Pickled onions please show', he asked

'You what?', said the woman turning to face Bert.

'Pickled onions', he repeated. As the woman pointed them out on the shelf, Bob jumped up from the bag and pulled at the large diamond sparkling on her finger. The woman screamed. The customers and assistants looked in her direction.

Marigold watched in horror as Bob kept on pulling.

He'll never let go!

She sprinted down the aisle, grabbed a bottle of tomato sauce from the shelf and squirted it all over the woman's finger. The ring slipped into Bob's hand and Bert leapt over her head taking Bob and the trolley with him.

'Bert!' she called out as she dodged the grasp of the woman's sticky red hand.

'Stop her!', cried the woman. 'Get the police here now!'

Marigold looked for the nearest exit. She didn't see the young man in the supermarket's uniform stepping out from behind a pyramid of jars of piccalilli. He grabbed her by the elbow and refused to let go. He looked her in the eye.

'It's you!' he said, amazed. 'The dancing shoe girl. Your thieving days are over, Marianne'.

She'd heard him call her the wrong name but that was the least of her worries.

From somewhere above she could hear Bert sobbing and Bob's voice. 'Leave her', he said.

Next Chapter: Potatoes and A Daffodil

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