by Rebecca Tope
‘Time running out,’ Corinne observed. ‘I know how that goes. Bonnie won’t have told you I had a wobble, six or seven years ago – big crisis at the time.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah.’ Simmy had a sense that Corinne would have liked to light a cigarette at this point. Her fingers twitched, and she gave herself a little shake. Then she consoled herself with a large bite of pizza. ‘Had a chap who said he was desperate for a kid, and how about it. You know – after all this fostering, you’d think I’d have had enough. But I never did have any of my own. Daft, really. So there I was, forty-three and suddenly going all out to get a baby. When it didn’t work, he dumped me.’
‘Bonnie never said anything about that.’
‘She didn’t know the details. He never moved in – the social workers wouldn’t have liked that. The thing is, it taught me a lot.’ She gave Simmy a searching look. ‘You’d have to be sure you weren’t marrying him just to get a kid or two.’
Simmy could feel herself flushing. ‘You mean, because I might have left it too late?’
‘More or less, yes. You can’t take anything for granted.’
‘I know. Are you saying I might go off Chris if we end up without any children?’
‘No, no. But it can happen. You should be careful.’ The older woman munched thoughtfully and finished her lager. ‘Listen to me! What am I saying? Must be getting old. You go for it, love. There’re never any guarantees in life, after all. The whole thing’s one bloody great risk.’
Simmy laughed. ‘That’s true. Well, I said yes when he proposed, so I guess I’m committed. Poor old Chris – the killing of his friend has knocked everything else out of his head anyway. I hope they find who did it soon.’
‘So do I. Bonnie’s there in Helm Road every waking moment until they work it out.’ She flinched at her own words. ‘They always make it feel like a game – they forget some poor person’s dead.’
‘I know it seems like that. But really, they do care about people’s feelings. And this time, they’ve only got a little bit of the picture. There’s no way they can understand what really happened. Although that might change on Saturday.’
‘What happens then?’
‘I’m taking Ben to Keswick for the auction. Bonnie and Tanya are minding the shop. It’ll be good practice – or something. Melanie did it for weeks when I was out of action last year, and she wasn’t much older than Bonnie at the time.’
‘Should be okay for a morning,’ said Corinne dubiously. ‘Do you want me to drop in and see they’re managing okay?’
‘That would be great, if you’ve got time. I’ll make sure I get as much done tomorrow as I can, so it probably won’t be busy. Bonnie can make up sprays and birthday flowers – the sort of thing people want on the spot. I can’t think of much that can go wrong – but that could just be lack of imagination on my part.’
‘Tanya’s sensible, as far as I can see. I’ve only met her once, though.’
‘She is. The other sisters say she’s turning into Ben. She joined in with his spreadsheets and whatnot when there was that business in Staveley a few months ago.’
The pizza was all gone, and the sun was lost behind a grey cloud. The breeze was turning chilly. ‘So, you wanted to ask me if I could guarantee work for Bonnie, after Ben goes? Is that right?’
‘Pretty much. And I thought a catch-up would be good.’ Corinne gave Simmy an affectionate look that was almost maternal. ‘I thought you might want to dump a few things on me, as well. Your dad not being himself these days, and the new boyfriend, and people getting themselves murdered. It feels as if it’s one thing after another, and you never get a chance to work through it all. Now there’s this Grasmere thing, before you’ve properly got back from holiday.’
‘That’s very sweet of you, but I don’t think you need worry. I mean – I seem to be bearing up quite nicely. The only thing … well, the biggest thing is the baby issue. I met this woman on Monday with a baby. Then we saw her again last night. She lives outside Grasmere. I stayed ages with the baby on my lap. It was lovely.’ She sighed.
‘There’s nothing like it,’ Corinne agreed. ‘That warm solid little body. Plays havoc with a person’s hormones.’
‘You can say that again. Everything tingled with it.’
‘You should have shouted for your Christopher there and then. You’d have started your own baby that night, if you had.’
Simmy laughed, half-appalled, half-relieved. ‘The trouble is, he was answering police questions in Penrith at the time. I don’t think he’d have been up for it.’
‘Well, get cracking, that’s my advice. Don’t wait for the ring or the licence. First things first.’
‘I know,’ said Simmy.
They wandered back to where they’d met, because Corinne had parked on a small patch beside a pub, where it said ‘No Parking’.
‘It’s okay – they know me,’ she said heedlessly.
‘Oh!’ Simmy’s eye had been caught by a shop sign. ‘That must be the charity shop Flo was talking about.’ The sign announced ‘CaniCare – your local charity for dogs’.
‘Always scope for more doggy charity,’ said Corinne, who had been a keen dog breeder in her time. ‘This one’s everybody’s favourite round here. They’ve got a rescue place up near Cockermouth.’
‘Her husband works for them,’ Simmy went on. She pressed her face to the window of the closed shop. ‘Looks as if they’ve got lots of nice stuff. The place is packed. Bric-a-brac mostly. Hardly any books, that I can see.’
‘They get all kinds of donations from old ladies, apparently. I heard of one in Coniston who left everything she possessed to them when she died.’
‘Gosh! Imagine liking dogs as much as that.’
Corinne waggled her head, to indicate a level of disagreement that she was too polite to express.
‘Well, better go.’ Simmy’s own car was legally parked in the big car park round the bend towards the main road out of town. ‘Thanks for the chat. It was lovely to catch up.’
Back in Troutbeck, she phoned Christopher. ‘Had a good day?’ she asked him.
‘Not particularly. How about you?’
‘Fine, thanks. I’ve just had pizza and lager with Corinne. You know, Bonnie’s foster mother.’
‘Oh yeah? What did she want?’
‘Nothing, really. Just a chat. She made me think, actually. About a lot of things.’
‘That sounds ominous.’
‘It shouldn’t.’ Something snagged at her; a sense that there was a faint hint of insult in his response. ‘Can’t I think without you getting worried?’
‘Depends, I suppose.’
‘Well, there’s nothing to bother you. Have the police been back again today? What’s happening with the investigation?’
‘No idea. All I know is that Valerie dropped in this afternoon, wondering if he’d left any of his stuff with us. She’s determined to trace every single thing that belonged to him. Heartless cow she is. Made me wish he’d left a will in favour of some girlfriend somewhere.’
‘Or a dogs’ home,’ said Simmy lightly.
‘No chance of that. Jon hated dogs. Must have been bitten as a kid or something. He’d cross the road to avoid them.’
‘That wouldn’t go down too well in Grasmere. The place seems to expect everyone to love dogs.’
‘Right. Philip had one, until last year. So did his friend Kathleen. I think that’s how they met in the first place, come to think of it.’
‘Do you know a woman called Daphne? Apparently, she’s another of Philip’s lady friends. He seems to have been quite popular. But Corinne says he’s really poorly now. She thinks he might not last much longer.’
‘Oh God! I’ll have to go and see the poor old boy, then. And no – never heard of a Daphne. Let’s hope she hasn’t got a house that’ll need clearing as well.’
‘Why? Doesn’t your business depend on it?’
‘Up to a point. But I don’t need any more
trouble in that direction for a while.’
His mood was not helping the conversation to flow. She had a long list of things she wanted to talk about with him: houses, rings, sweet nothings – and murder. But he seemed intent on closing down every avenue she tried.
‘Oh! I nearly forgot to tell you,’ she said suddenly. ‘Ben and I are coming to your sale on Saturday. All day. Bonnie and Tanya are running the shop for me. Corinne thinks they’ll be fine. Ben wants to see how it all works. You might have to show him round at the end and answer some questions.’
There was a silence for a long five seconds. ‘What time will you get here?’
‘Before nine, I hope. We want to have a good look at all the lots first. It’s my dad’s birthday soon. I could buy him something.’
‘If I have to show your friend around, it’d best be then, then. Early on, I mean. I’ll be knackered when it finishes – and hungry – and you might be fed up with it all by the afternoon.’
‘Whatever’s best for you. You don’t sound too keen on the idea. Is there something I’m not getting?’
‘That boy. I’ve said it before – he gets on my nerves. Thinks he’s so clever, God’s gift to the forces of law and order, when it’s got nothing whatsoever to do with him. Can’t he just leave it?’
‘He is clever, Chris. And he’s not getting in anyone’s way. The Penrith police won’t even know he’s interested – unless he comes up with something they’ve missed.’
‘How will he know what they’ve missed?’
‘Good question.’ She tried to laugh. ‘I can see how he might be irritating, but I thought after last night you’d got a better idea of what he’s like. Everybody loves him when they get to know him. When we thought we’d lost him, last year … it was so awful. Just thinking about the world without him was heart-wrenching.’
‘Okay. I’ve got the message. It probably sounds as if I’m jealous of a kid half my age. He just gets my back up somehow.’
‘That’s a shame, because I don’t think you can get out of talking to him on Saturday. Not unless you can find somebody else to show him round.’
‘I might just do that. Josephine could maybe do it. She always likes to show off the computer stuff.’
Simmy had barely heard of Josephine before. ‘Is she new?’
‘What? No, no. She was here from the start – years before me. She designed the whole system. You must know who she is.’
‘Yes,’ said Simmy vaguely. Had he deliberately failed to mention the woman up to now? Was there some reason why, if so? ‘I look forward to meeting her,’ she added.
‘Good. I’ll speak to you tomorrow, then.’ He sounded weary and distracted. Simmy did her best not to take it personally. Chris had a lot to contend with, she repeated to herself. But actually – how was that an excuse? What stopped him from pouring it all out to her, his future wife? Why was he so hung up on Ben, who meant nothing but good? Didn’t everybody want the same thing?
‘That’ll be nice,’ she said. ‘And Chris – I love you, you know. I’m here for you. Everything’s going to be all right.’
‘And I love you,’ he said. ‘That’s not in question.’ And he rang off before she could ask him just what was in question, then.
‘Tanya’s coming in after school,’ said Bonnie next morning. ‘You can go over everything for tomorrow. She’s excited about it.’
‘Should I have checked first with Helen?’ Simmy suddenly worried. ‘I should, shouldn’t I?’
‘She’s fine with it. But maybe a quick call would be an idea.’
‘Right. What’s Ben doing today?’
Bonnie grimaced. ‘He’s really into it now. Searching the Internet and finding a whole lot of fascinating stuff that I don’t think is at all relevant. He’s been making one of his spreadsheets as well. The weird thing is, we’ve never met anyone connected with the case. Not even the SIO. They’re all just names. That’s never happened before. I mean – last time, we were right in the middle of everything. We went to their houses. You as well as me and Ben.’
‘And the time before that you found the body,’ said Simmy with a pang. These two young people had experienced far more than they should have done. Death, danger, horror, betrayal. And yet they remained so bright-eyed and sunny-tempered.
‘Yeah,’ said Bonnie.
‘I don’t imagine any of the characters involved will be in Keswick tomorrow, either.’
‘Oh yes they will. At least, the Nick person probably will be. He’s got to carry on as usual, hasn’t he – even if he’s the killer.’
‘He’s not, though. Chris says he can prove he was somewhere else, miles away.’
‘Whatever. Ben still wants to have a look at him. Besides, practically everybody there will have known Jonathan. They’ll have ideas and bits of the story. They’re bound to be talking about it. I wish I was going to be there,’ she concluded regretfully.
‘You’re being very noble,’ Simmy told her. ‘But there’s no way we can both go.’
The frustrations of youth were all too obvious. Transport was an abiding difficulty, as well as finances and adult expectations. The long summer months loomed ahead, promising a mixture of gloriously free time and severe constraints as to what was feasible in the way of activities.
‘It’s not that, is it?’ said Bonnie. ‘It’s us not being able to drive. If Corinne wasn’t being such a pain about it, I could learn in her car. But she won’t let me. And we can’t afford proper lessons.’
The idea of delicate little Bonnie at the wheel of a car sent shivers through Simmy. And yet she was almost eighteen – quite old enough for a licence. ‘It’ll happen eventually,’ she said. ‘And don’t forget the bikes.’
‘That’s what Tanya said. “Why don’t you both cycle to Keswick?”’ She mimicked an exaggerated little-girl voice. ‘Has she any idea how long that would take, and how exhausting it would be?’
‘People do it, though. They do much greater distances than that, in fact. Has Tanya got a bike as well? Wouldn’t she want to go with you if you did that?’ Suddenly the constraints appeared to be lifting. Why hadn’t she thought of the bicycles before? As well as that, there were plenty of buses crossing the region several times a day.
‘We’re not doing it. The roads are full of tourists. Those coaches are lethal. We’d be crushed against a stone wall somewhere. And you can’t take any stuff on a bike.’
Simmy gave up, more than half-glad that the idea had been vetoed. The image of two broken young bodies under the wheels of a large bus full of foreign tourists was too vivid for comfort. She could even see the excited sightseers taking their everlasting pictures of the gory scene. ‘You could be right,’ she said. ‘But you’ll get to hear all about the auction. And there’s always another time.’
Before the girl could reply, the shop door pinged, and they both turned to greet the expected customer with welcoming smiles.
‘Oh! It’s you,’ said Simmy, her smile growing even broader. ‘What a surprise.’
Chapter Twelve
DI Nolan Moxon returned the smile. ‘A welcome one, I hope,’ he said.
‘I suppose that depends on what you’ve come to say. But it has been a while, hasn’t it.’
‘Three months,’ he nodded. ‘And here we are again.’
‘Are we? I mean – is this about the thing in Grasmere? I didn’t think you were part of the investigation. Isn’t it the Penrith people this time?’
‘They’ve asked us for assistance. It’s a big job. And there’s no hard and fast boundaries when something like this happens.’
‘Oh.’ She thought of Christopher and his resistance to the police. Then she thought of Ben and his latest spreadsheet. And she realised that Moxon would have instantly linked all the different individuals together and drawn an obvious deduction. ‘I should have known.’
‘You should. Your boyfriend found the body, for a start. And I’ve just learnt that young Mr Harkness is planning to spend all day tomorrow at
Mr Henderson’s auction rooms. With a certain Mrs Brown. Just like old times,’ he finished, with a sigh.
‘You’ve spoken to Ben?’
‘Fifteen minutes ago. Following a hunch, you might say.’
‘A pretty obvious one,’ put in Bonnie, who had pressed close to the two adults, shamelessly assuming their conversation included her.
‘All right, young lady. No need for that.’ He gave her a fatherly look, aiming for stern authority, but his affection for her made it difficult. ‘It’s a strange business. The poor man was killed very violently, and yet nobody can find any reason for such an act. In broad daylight, too, as far as they can tell.’
‘Everybody knew him, according to Chris,’ said Simmy. ‘He must have done something to upset someone. Something awful, I mean.’
‘Indeed,’ said Moxon, as if this was obvious. Which it was, Simmy realised.
‘Ben’s working on it,’ said Bonnie with pride.
‘So I understand. Impressive, as always.’ He addressed Simmy, their eyes meeting over Bonnie’s head. ‘You’ll be sorry it was your boyfriend who found him,’ he said carefully. ‘Must seem like a jinx.’
She took a small breath. ‘Well, oddly enough, it doesn’t. I mean – I am sorry it was Chris, of course. He’s seriously upset about it. But for myself, I don’t feel nearly as resistant as I have before. It helps not to know any of the people. Never even met Jonathan. The only person I know in Grasmere is a woman called Flo, with a baby. And I only met her this week.’
‘When you say “any of the people”, who do you mean, exactly?’
She laughed. ‘Good question. Bonnie was just saying the same thing. There really aren’t any people, are there? No suspects. No witnesses. At least, as far as we know, of course.’
‘There’s Mr Henderson,’ said Moxon, with extreme caution.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ll have thought about it for yourself by now. From what he said to the Penrith people, he arranged to meet Mr Woolley in that house. He knew he would be there. Then another man called the police to report a death. A man who knew who Christopher Henderson was, having been to his salerooms. That meant there was no sense in Mr Henderson trying to leave the scene before the police arrived, even if he really wanted to. You can see how that might look.’