“What’re you on about Mary?” Fred turned to squint at his wife in surprise.
“I’m serious, Fred,” she hissed, “that ice cream cart has been parked there every Sunday for three months.”
“And that makes him a spy?”
“It’s a park woman!” Fred growled. “There’s lots of families here on a Sunday and families means kids don’t it, and kids love ice cream.”
“Harry, we come here every Sunday, and he hasn’t sold one single ice cream.” She glanced sideways at the soldier sitting behind them. He was trying to look nonchalant, but it was obvious he was listening.
There was a blur of movement as the soldier vaulted their table and crash tackled the ice cream vendor.
A month later they sat in the office of Colonel Gambroll as he congratulated Mary on her powers of observation and for contacting them with her concerns.
They’d discovered a camera in the ice cream cart and it had been filming the comings and goings of some very special visitors to the army base across the road.
Mary was a hero, and Fred was proud of her and happy to bask in her reflected glory.