Spy Trap

 
Hebert looked in the drawer. Yes, his last will and testament had been moved. One of the ungrateful buggers had been snooping again, he thought. The tiny scrap of paper he’d hidden in one of its folds was not there.  
 
He turned, his face crimson. His granddaughters, it had to be one of them, always poking their noses into his affairs. ‘So, which of you nosy sods has been in here’ he growled, ‘Snooping again were yer’s?’  
 
Vanessa looked shocked ‘Granddad, if you look at the drawer again you’ll see it has been tidied as have all the others. I did it myself this afternoon whilst you were out.’  
 
‘A likely story’ he grumped ‘well, it’ll do you no damned good, ‘I’ll leave the lot to the cat’s home if it happens again.’  
 
Vanessa, who had given up a good job to care for him, was deeply hurt, her face crumpled and she burst into tears ‘Oh granddad, we don’t want your money' she wailed 'leave it to the cat’s home if it pleases you.’  
 
Catherine, her older sister, threw a protective arm around her and gathered her to her breast ‘Now look what you’ve done you old goat. She’s only looking after you, you are one ungrateful old man. Neither of us need your damn money anyway.’  
 
Herbert Warner glowered at them, then turned, 'bah' he said, then went upstairs  to sleep it off, mumbling all the way.  
 
‘He’s always accusing me of prying and I’ve spent all afternoon cleaning and ironing for the old devil with never a word of thanks.’  
 
‘It’s his age’ Catherine said soothingly,  her big blues eyes fixed lovingly on her younger sister, ‘a lot of old folk go funny with age.’ Catherine managed an upmarket care home so had a lot more experience in these matters.  
 
Upstairs Herbert fulminated, ‘I’ll catch the buggers’ he chuntered through clenched teeth, ‘just wait, I’ll catch ‘em.’  
 
Next day, on his way home from the pub, Herbert went to the ironmongers and bought what he thought he needed, then weaved his way home. Catherine was at work and Vanessa was out shopping.  
 
‘I’ll catch the buggers this time’ he muttered as he made his preparations, 'and it'll serve 'em right, too.'  
 
Herbert awoke with a start as he heard the front door. ‘It’s only me Granddad, would you like a cup of tea?’ Vanessa’s disembodied voice floated up the stairs.  
 
Herbert turned over, not bothering to answer. ‘I’ll catch you’ he muttered sleepily.  
 
Herbert didn’t know what time it was when he next awoke. It was still dark and the house quiet as he crept down stairs. He was sure he’d heard a noise, had he been dreaming or had that spying girl beaten his precautions? He slid the drawer open and felt cautiously with his hand. The rat trap with the saw-toothed edge was no longer there. It was clamped firmly on his bloodied fingers as he did a sprightly dance around the room shrieking.