Secrets on Saturday (22 page)

There was a silence, and the ghost of a smile crossed Enid Abraham’s face. Lois stared at Bill, and then slumped at her desk. “Oh Bill,” she said, “and everyone … please take no notice of me. I’ve had a bad morning so far, but that don’t excuse it. Please forget I said that bloody awful thing.”

There was an audible release of breath, and everybody spoke at once. Was there anything they could do to help? They’d thought she looked a bit pale when she came in. And everybody slipped up some time. She was not to think any more about it. And, from Bill, “As long as it doesn’t happen again.” Lois felt duly reproved.

At this point, a knock at the door was answered by
Gran, and she ushered Ben Cullen into the office. Lois introduced him to the team, and they smiled a welcome.

“He’s on approval,” Lois said. “Two weeks, to see how he gets on. Then either way, if it isn’t working, he’s free to leave or I’m free to let him go.”

“I love that phrase,” Bill said. “ ‘Let him go.’ Puts all the blame on him, one way or another.”

“I don’t think so, Bill,” said Lois, wondering what on earth was wrong with him this morning. She hoped it was nothing to do with Rebecca and the baby.

Ben beamed. “I know exactly what you mean, Mrs. M,” he said, at once adopting the name the others gave her. “You can be sure I’ll put my all into it. I’m really keen.”

Floss choked to cover disbelief, but the others assured him he’d be fully hooked on the job after two weeks, and they all got down to the business of the meeting.

“You can go with Enid at first,” she said to Ben. “You will learn a lot from her, so please take notice. You’re at the vet’s house this afternoon, aren’t you, Enid? Right, then liaise together after the meeting.” There were no other changes in the schedules, and Lois said, “Now, anything to report? Any complaints, or things you’d like us to talk about?” She looked around the team, and hoped the ensuing silence meant there was nothing.

But then Sheila spoke up. “There was one thing, Mrs. M. It’s about that Mr. Everitt that you do the cleaning for.”

“Go on,” Lois said, keeping an even voice.

“Well, my Sam used to do a bit of woodin’ for old Cox, and now the farm’s for sale. I haven’t heard where he’s gone—probably into The Pines. That’s where most of the old ones go when they need care. But anyway,” she said, “about Mr. Everitt. Sam was in the pub and overheard a couple of blokes—strangers, he said—talking. They were speaking softly but my Sam’s got very good hearing, you know. He’s trained it up for when he’s listening for foxes and badgers near the pheasant pens. He
can hear everything and tell you what’s goin’ on in the woods!”

Can he, though? thought Lois, and willed Sheila to get to the point. She waited patiently, knowing Sheila was easily offended.

“Sam picked up the name Everitt, and listened carefully,” Sheila continued. “They were saying they wished they could know a bit more about him. Specially his financial resources, they said. And they laughed. That was all, but I thought you’d like to know.”

“Did Sam say what they looked like, these men?” Lois spoke sharply, and all turned to look at her. For them, this was no revelation, was it? Lots of people would like to know what had happened to Herbert Everitt.

“Yeah, he did. Now, let me see. One of ‘em was tall and thin, with one of them nutcracker faces. And the other was bald and fat, Sam said. He’s very observant, is my Sam,” she added proudly.

“Thanks, Sheila. Sam certainly has a sharp eye and ear. No wonder his boss is so keen to keep him! I’ve heard he’s trying to persuade Sam not to retire?”

“Quite right,” said Sheila. “And I don’t want him under my feet all day, so I’m backing his boss!”

They all laughed, and conversation became general. There were no more business matters, and the meeting closed. Lois went back to the kitchen and found Gran in deep conversation on the telephone. The smell of frying sausages was powerful, and Lois realized she’d had no coffee and nothing since an early breakfast.

“Who was that?” she said, as Gran came to the table.

“Mrs. Tollervey-Jones, ringing from Scotland. Seems she forgot to mention she’d be there on her annual holiday. Bit like the queen! Anyway, she wants Floss to go in as usual, but keep the work down to an hour, mean old bag. She’ll be away for four or five weeks, unless something comes up and she’s needed back here.”

Lois nodded slowly. “How does she expect Floss to clean a dusty old mansion in an hour? Well, I suppose
we’ll think of something. Thanks, Mum. Now, I’m starving!”

A
FTER LUNCH
,
SITTING ALONE IN THE KITCHEN AND
mulling over the meeting, Lois thought again about Bill and his out-of-character behaviour this morning. Perhaps she would give him a ring, and have a chat. Maybe something he said would give her a clue. She got up and went into her office.

“Bill? How’s it going?”

“Fine. I’m upstairs at Ivy’s and she’s out in the garden. Better make it snappy.”

“Right. I just wanted to check that all was OK with you.”

“Everything’s fine, thank you. Oops, have to go now. She’s on the move. Bye.”

Lois put down the telephone and sat for a few minutes doing nothing except turning over in her mind what could have bothered Bill. She wasn’t convinced that everything was fine. Not just her own gaffe, surely? He was always so sympathetic. Most likely something private, in which case it was no business of hers. She looked at her watch. Time to take Jeems for a walk and clear her head.

B
LACKBERRY
G
ARDENS HAD BEEN BUILT OVER AN EX
isting footpath, and this had caused a great deal of controversy at the time. Petitions from the local ramblers were handed in to a hearing in Tresham Town Hall, objecting to the diversion, but in vain. The inspector
hearing the case expressed his sympathy with local people, but said he could see there was a sensible alternative route for the footpath, and this would be easy to establish. It was only a matter of five hundred yards, and would be a reasonable solution. As this new route would pass close behind the proposed new houses, the developers then opposed the solution. Like a tedious game of tennis, the arguments went back and forth until at last the alternative route was approved by all.

Lois remembered all this, as she swung through the gate into the new footpath and began to walk along by the high fence concealing the back gardens of the Blackberry houses. Jeems stopped suddenly with an anxious look on her face and squatted down. Lois fumbled for the scoop-bag she had in her pocket and waited. She looked at the fence and saw a knot hole at eye height. Peering through, she saw that it was the Wallis’s garden and the terriers were stretched out in the sun on scrubby grass. Jeems finished the job and scratched a symbolic cover-up with her hind legs, giving a little yelp of success.

Pandemonium! The terriers were at the fence in an instant, barking ferociously, and now Jeems, safe from attack, stood her ground and joined in with enthusiasm. Lois kept her eye on the knot hole and watched the house. Jeems was pulling at the lead, ready to continue the walk, but Lois held her back. The terriers were still going strong. Surely someone would come and shut them up? But nobody appeared, and Lois was about to move on when she saw a figure appear at the downstairs window. It was a man, and he was familiar. Not big enough for Frances’s husband. He moved away, and as he went Lois saw that it was Reg Abthorpe.

She turned, and dragged Jeems back the way they’d come. “Just a short call to make,” she said to the little dog. “Then we’ll go on with the walk.”

No sign of life as she approached the Wallis’s house, but that was nothing unusual. Lois knocked firmly at the door, and fancied she saw a curtain twitch. To her surprise,
the door was opened straight away, and Frances stood there, smiling faintly.

“Hope you don’t mind, Mrs. Wallis,” Lois said casually. “I was on the footpath and thought I saw Mr. Abthorpe.” She judged it best not to mention the knot hole. “If he’s with you,” she continued, “I wonder if I could have a word? It’s just a small point about Mr. Everitt’s house, and I still haven’t got a phone number.” Without it being too obvious, she stood to one side of the doormat, endeavouring to see behind Frances and into the house. But it was dark inside. Net curtains everywhere.

“Oh no, you must have been mistaken,” Frances said, in an unusually firm voice. “I haven’t seen that man since you were here and he burst in on us. Sorry, can’t help,” she added, and began to shut the door. Lois tried desperately to think of something to hold Frances in conversation. But Jeems suddenly began to bark again, this time in real fear. The terriers were at the side gate, and meant business.

Frances laughed, and Lois was amazed at the change in her. “Better get going, Mrs. Meade,” she said. “They’re killers, you know.” The door closed, and Lois beat a hasty retreat.

Back to the footpath, and walking along with a now silent Jeems, Lois wondered if she could have been mistaken. Well, of course she could, but her first impression was very strong. The man had disappeared quickly, but there was something familiar about the way he carried his head, something weasel-like. She thought again of the change in Frances. She had had a boost of confidence from somewhere. Maybe the whiskey bottle, but it seemed unlikely. Perhaps her boorish husband had left her. And perhaps Reg Abthorpe had moved in? But there had been no old red banger outside.

She came out into a big field, where the path went straight across. It was muddy, and she had to concentrate to keep her footing. Here and there, dog excreta had been left, and she had to avoid that too. Once across the field, and into a grassy meadow, she relaxed and let
Jeems off the lead. Her thoughts returned to Frances Wallis. The woman had almost laughed at the idea of having Reg Abthorpe in the house. But, hey, wait a minute! What had she said? “I haven’t seen that man since you were here.” So she knew exactly who Lois had meant by Reg Abthorpe. But that proved nothing, except that Frances had been lying when she’d pretended not to have known him before. Lois had been more or less convinced of that anyway. But it was a small step forward, and Lois quickened her pace to keep up with the dog.

T
HE IRRITATING TUNE ON HER MOBILE STOPPED
L
OIS
just as she was reaching a stile to climb into the next field. She could see bullocks quite near the path, and called Jeems back. “Hello? Lois Meade here,” she said in a businesslike voice.

“Ah, yes, it’s you, Lois.”

Small statement of the obvious, she thought, but replied, “Who else? What do you want? Me and Jeems are just about to be attacked by young bullocks. Can you hear the stampede?”

Cowgill sighed. “That’s not a very original put-down, Lois. Now … Oh, God yes! I can hear them! Run like hell, and ring me back.”

Lois switched off her phone and grinned. She hadn’t told him that she and her dog were on the safe side of the fence, and were stroking the steaming nostrils of the excited young bullocks.

“Calm down,” Lois said, patting one dark-brown animal on the shoulder. They were like the Chargers she remembered from school, bully-boys, all huff and puff, but easily faced. “Still, we’d better go round on the other path,” she said. “Come on, Jeems. This way.”

The path led her along by the side of the village’s sewage works, and the wind was in the wrong direction. “Yuk!” she exploded. “Come on, dog, let’s run.” They scuttled round the corner of the works, and crashed straight into a young couple in a fond embrace.

“Floss! Ben! How could you? Right here by the stink! My God, I know love is supposed to conquer all, but this is ridiculous. Come back with us for a bit until we can breathe.” She led the way, and the lovers followed laughing. They stopped in a small lane that had once been a single rail track, overhung with elder bushes and hawthorn. “Phew! That’s better,” Lois said.

“Did you want to speak to us specially?” said Floss, beginning to feel anxious. It was free time for them both, so surely Mrs. M couldn’t object? They had been well out of sight until she arrived.

“No, just a thought. Might as well ask you now. Well, ask Ben, really. You’re near the Wallis house, aren’t you? I wondered if you’d seen a strange man around their garden recently. It’s just that I still haven’t been able to contact Mr. Everitt’s nephew, but thought I saw him this afternoon in the Wallis’s house.” She was astonished at the reaction. An instant and furtive look passed between them, and Floss coloured.

Ben spoke quickly. “No, no, haven’t noticed anybody. Haven’t seen her awful husband lately, either. You know, the lorry driver who knocks her about. Sorry we can’t help.”

But you could if you wanted to, Lois almost said. The pair were frightened. Frightened of Reg Abthorpe? Instead, she said, “Knocks her about? Is it serious?”

Ben shrugged. “Who knows? Some women like it …” Floss glared at him.

“Yes, well,” said Lois, “you should maybe report him to the police if it sounds serious.”

“Perhaps he’s left her,” Ben replied. “Anyway, Mrs. M, we must get back. Both of us are on duty in half an hour. Floss is at the Hall, and I am going with Enid to those new people in Waltonby.”