The Lawley Case

by Diana Xarissa

  “You must be hungry,” Edgar suggested.

  “Oh, we ate what we were given, as we were both starving,” Malcolm replied. “But we didn’t enjoy it.”

  Janet frowned. If they’d eaten the food, they should have paid for it. She and Joan always requested that guests pay in advance. She could only hope that the Armstrongs had done so. They’d find it difficult to demand any money back from Joan unless they left early, which would make Janet happy and be worth refunding them.

  “As much as I’d love to curl up in your lovely television lounge, I think we need an early night,” Edgar said. “We want to get to Chatsworth tomorrow.”

  “It’s a waste of time,” Judith said. “We were bored to tears there.”

  “We’ve been a dozen or more times and we always love it,” Edgar told her. “To each his or her own, I suppose.”

  Judith shrugged. “Whatever. We should get to bed as well, I suppose. We’ve a lot planned for tomorrow, too.”

  “Really? What are you going to be doing?” Carol asked.

  “Things,” Judith replied. She looked over at her husband. “Are you ready to try to squeeze ourselves into that tiny little room?” she asked.

  “If we must,” he sighed. “I hope your claustrophobia doesn’t bother you too much.”

  Janet stood with the Fordhams and watched the other couple as they left the room. As soon as they were gone, Edgar looked at Janet.

  “Our room is larger, isn’t it? Would you rather we switched rooms with them?” he asked.

  “Oh, goodness, no, but thank you for offering,” she replied. “You were here first and you’ve paid for the larger room. They only rang at the last minute and were lucky that we had a room available at all. If they truly don’t like it, they don’t have to stay,” she said. In fact, I’d be happy to see them go, she thought.

  “We won’t mind. If you feel you need to move them, let us know,” Carol said. “I’d hate to think that you’ll be listening to them complain all weekend.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” Janet lied. What she was sure of was that even if they moved the unpleasant couple into the larger room, Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong would still find things to complain about.

  “Lucky you,” Janet said to Joan when she walked back into the television lounge a few minutes later. “Both couples are back and tucked up for the night.”

  “I should have come out and helped you, then, shouldn’t I?” Joan said. “I was caught up in the increasingly implausible storyline on this show, but that’s no excuse.”

  “It wasn’t a problem. Mr. and Mrs. Fordham had a lovely evening and went off to bed happily. Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong had a miserable night and went off to bed grumbling about their room again. I do hope that they paid in full in advance.”

  “They did, although they complained about having to do so. They’re going to hate whatever I make them for breakfast, aren’t they?”

  “I expect so. No doubt they’ll eat it all and then demand some money back from you because it wasn’t what they really wanted,” Janet said, repeating what Malcolm had told her about their dinner in Derby.

  Joan frowned. “They won’t get away with such behaviour here,” she said stiffly. “I taught primary school for over forty years. I know how to deal with bullies.”

  Janet grinned. Tomorrow’s breakfast was going to be interesting, anyway.

  Aggie was fast asleep on her pillow when Janet opened her door a short while later. She got ready for bed and then crawled in carefully. When Aggie opened an eye, Janet gave her a pat. “Night night.”

  “Meeeoowww,” Aggie said softly.

  Janet was in the kitchen before Joan the next morning, something that almost never happened. She started a pot of coffee brewing and then slid slices of bread into the toaster. While she was contemplating what she wanted for her own breakfast, Joan joined her.

  “You’re up bright and early today,” she said.

  “I woke up at six feeling ready for the day. I knew if I went back to sleep, I’d regret it, so here I am,” Janet explained.

  “The Armstrongs asked for breakfast at seven. I don’t know if I should start cooking or wait to see if they actually turn up,” Joan said.

  “Why not start cooking now and if they aren’t done at seven, we can eat what you’ve made?” Janet suggested.

  Joan chuckled. “You’re in the mood for a full English breakfast today, then?”

  “I’m always in the mood for a full English breakfast, even when it’s time for lunch or dinner.”

  Joan nodded and began to pull out what she needed from the cupboards. “I don’t know why we don’t eat breakfast foods at other times of the day, or when we do, we feel odd about it. What makes scrambled eggs or pancakes right for first thing in the morning, but wrong for dinner?”

  “I’ve no idea, but if you want to start making pancakes for dinner every week, I won’t complain.”

  At exactly seven o’clock the kitchen door swung open. Malcolm Armstrong walked into the room.

  “Is our breakfast ready, then?” he demanded.

  “It is,” Joan replied as she added the last slice of toast to the toast rack.

  “Do you have a tray so I can take it back to our room?” he asked.

  “Certainly,” Joan said. She pulled a tray down and carefully loaded the plates full of food into it. By the time she added cups of coffee and orange juice to the tray, it was pretty full.

  “Maybe I should help with that,” Janet suggested.

  “I expect one or the other of you to carry it,” Malcolm snapped.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Joan said. “But this is a bed and breakfast, not a fancy hotel. We don’t have room service here. You’re welcome to have breakfast in your room, but you’ll have to carry it up there yourself. If Janet wants to take the drinks separately so that they are less likely to get spilled, you should be grateful for her help.”

  The man frowned. “When I pay a premium price for a place like this, I expect excellent service.”

  “If you think you’ve paid a premium price, I suggest you look at what bed and breakfast establishments charge in other parts of the country,” Joan replied in a level voice.

  “I don’t think I like your attitude,” the man said sharply.

  “You’re more than welcome to take your business elsewhere, then,” Joan said calmly. “I’ll happy refund the balance of your stay if you choose to leave.”

  “I’m going to talk to my wife about just that,” he said, grabbing the tray and storming out of the room.

  Janet waited until she heard his footsteps on the stairs before she spoke. “I really hope they leave,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t normally agree, but in this case, I’d be happy to see the back of those two,” Joan sighed.

  A few minutes later Judith stuck her head into the kitchen. “We’re off now. We expect our room done up with fresh bedding before we return.”

  “When will you be back?” Joan asked.

  “Maybe in an hour, maybe this afternoon, maybe late tonight,” she snapped. “We have a key for the front door, so it really isn’t your business.”

  She was gone before Joan could reply.

  “I suppose we’d better go and get their room done, then,” Janet sighed. “I hope we don’t disturb the Fordhams while we’re doing it.”

  “They’re meant to be coming down shortly for their breakfast. If you go and get started on the Armstrong’s room, I’ll get things started for the Fordhams. I’ll do their room once they’ve finished breakfast.”

  Janet nodded and headed for the stairs. As she climbed them, she told herself to expect the room to be a mess, but even so she was unprepared for what greeted her in the guest room. The couple had clearly eaten breakfast in bed, as the dirty plates had been left in the middle of the bedding. A half-eaten slice of toast was sticking out from under one of the pillows and a large streak of raspberry jam ran along the top sheet. Sighing deeply, Janet began to clean.

&nbs
p; “My goodness, I thought you’d have been done ages ago,” Joan said from the room’s doorway over an hour later. “They’ve only been here one day. How much mess could they have made?”

  “It was bad,” Janet said. “But I think I’ve taken care of the worst of it. After I found the sausage in the bottom of the wardrobe, I went back over the entire room.”

  “There was a sausage in the wardrobe?” Joan echoed.

  Janet nodded. “I suspect they were hoping that I wouldn’t notice it and that then they could claim the room wasn’t cleaned properly. No doubt they’d expect some money back if that happened.”

  “I’m sure you’ve been thorough, but I think I’ll go through it all again, if you don’t mind,” Joan said.

  Half an hour later the women were satisfied.

  “I really hope they decide to leave early,” Janet said as she lugged all of the dirty bedding down the stairs.

  “I’m tempted to give them all of their money back if they’ll just go,” Joan admitted. “But then I’d feel as if they’ll have won.”

  “There is that,” Janet agreed. “But I hate the thought of having to clean up after them again tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow it will be my turn,” Joan promised. “For now, let me make you a lovely breakfast.”

  Chapter 4

  After breakfast, the pair quickly tidied the Fordhams’ room before Janet needed to get ready for her trip out with Stuart.

  “I still think this is a bad idea,” Joan said as Janet waited for their neighbour to appear.

  “I know you do, but I’m sure everything will be fine, and it will set Stuart’s mind at rest, too. I was thinking, it’s possible that the men at the garden centre just had a car that looked like his friend Martin’s car. We’re probably wasting our time going to see the man.”

  “I suppose that’s one possibility,” Joan replied.

  “No, not possible,” Stuart told Janet as he drove them through Doveby Dale. “Martin’s car is a classic, mostly because he refuses to get rid of it. He does all of his own repairs and he’s kept it running for decades. There probably aren’t more than two or three left in the country that still run.”

  “Let’s hope you misunderstood the men you overheard, then,” Janet suggested.

  “Yes, I certainly hope so. Drugs scare me.”

  “Me, too.”

  Once they’d left Doveby Dale, Stuart followed the road towards Little Burton. After a few miles, he turned off the main road and onto a side road. Within minutes, he turned off of that road onto what looked like a dirt path.

  “This isn’t much of a road,” Janet remarked.

  “No, Martin really should have it paved or something, but it’s a long way from the road to the house. He never could afford it.”

  They drove between some trees and then through a large clearing. Stuart slowed down.

  “Nothing looks as if it’s been touched for years,” Janet said, looking around.

  “We’ll have to find an excuse to drive all the way around the farm before we leave,” Stuart said. He parked in front of the small run-down farmhouse. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered as he opened his door.

  Stuart’s knock seemed to echo around them as they waited. It felt as if they were a long way from civilization to Janet, and she was sorry she’d let Stuart talk her into coming when the door suddenly burst open. Janet jumped and let out a small scream.

  “I wasn’t expecting that,” the man at the door shouted at her.

  “I’m sorry,” Janet said quickly.

  “Pardon?” he replied.

  “I’m sorry. You startled me when you opened the door,” Janet said loudly.

  “Oh, aye. I thought as much when you jumped and shrieked,” the man told her. “But welcome, anyway. Come in.” He turned around and began to shuffle back into the house. He was hunched over and had the weather-beaten look of a man who’d worked outside for his entire life. His grey hair was sparse and untidy and he was wearing thick glasses over his brown eyes. His clothes were clean but worn, and as Janet followed she noted that he was wearing slippers on his feet.

  He led them into a cosy sitting room near the back of the small house. The couch and chairs looked comfortable but dated, with worn patches here and there. The man settled into what was clearly his chair and then waved at the couch. “Sit, sit,” he shouted.

  Janet sat down next to Stuart and glanced around the room. A few of the furniture pieces looked as if they might be antiques. If they were, they were probably valuable.

  “So, Martin, this is Janet Markham. Janet, this is Martin Lawley,” Stuart said loudly.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Markham,” Martin said.

  “Please, call me Janet,” she replied.

  He nodded. “And I’m Martin, of course. But did Stuart say you’d purchased Doveby House?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Janet said.

  “It’s a beautiful old house, Doveby House,” Martin told her. “I haven’t been inside it for years, of course, but I remember it fondly.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to visit any time you’d like,” Janet said. “Joan and I love having visitors.”

  Martin shrugged. “I don’t get out much anymore. But I have something for you.” He struggled to his feet and then crossed the room. When he came back, he was holding a metal candleholder that he handed to Janet.

  “It’s lovely,” she said, studying the thick black twisted wire that held the candle. A small wooden stopper rotated along the spiral wire to lift or lower the candle as needed.

  “I used to make ones like that for Doveby House when I was younger,” he told her. “It was just something I did in my spare time, during the winter when I wasn’t as busy with the farm.”

  “But you must let me pay you for it,” Janet suggested.

  “No, no, not at all. I have a few more lying around the place, actually. We used them all the time, and then one day we got electricity and we didn’t need them anymore. I just thought that Doveby House should have at least one of them after all these years.”

  “Well, thank you very much,” Janet said. “I will put it somewhere where it can be admired by our guests.”

  Martin shrugged. “They remind me of Alberta. I can almost see her standing in the doorway of Doveby House lit by candlelight. She was so beautiful, she was.”

  “What can you tell me about her?” Janet asked.

  Martin shrugged. “She was beautiful, that much I’ve already said. I can’t really tell you much else. Her family was the closest thing we had to royalty in Doveby Dale. They didn’t speak to the lower classes.”

  Janet frowned. She’d been hoping for a good deal more from the man. “But I’ve been told she had a relationship with the gardener,” she said.

  “Oh, he was trouble, that man,” Martin told her. “I knew that the first time I saw him. When it was all over, I thought I should have warned Mr. Montgomery about him, but I didn’t expect him to chase after poor Alberta. And then, after she’d died, he simply left town. I thought he should have been arrested for something.”

  “Was Alberta very in love with him, do you think?” Janet asked.

  “I doubt it,” Martin replied. “She’d been very sheltered her whole life. I don’t know if she knew what love even was, really. No, I think she was just infatuated by him and he used that to his advantage. He was able to get lots of expensive presents from her before her parents realised what was going on.”

  “Did he? I didn’t know that.”

  “Oh, yes, she gave him bits of her jewellery and other things. It was said that Alberta wasn’t very intelligent. I don’t know if that’s true or not. She had a nanny, and as I said, she was very sheltered. Bright or dumb, Will came along at just the right time.”

  “Will?” Janet repeated.

  “Oh, that was the gardener. I can’t recall his surname. He was a handsome fellow, I’ll give him that. When he first came to Doveby House, I heard that he’d been sent away from one o
f the larger stately homes because he’d been caught in bed with the owner’s wife, but like I said before, I knew he was trouble the first time I saw him.”

  “I’ve heard that Alberta was pregnant when she fell to her death,” Janet said.

  Martin shook his head. “I’ve never believed that. It was whispered at the time, of course, but I don’t think it was true. I know Alberta was sneaking out to meet Will, but I don’t believe things went that far, not before her parents found out what was going on and put a stop to it.”

  “Is it true that she saw Will with another woman the night she died?” Janet asked.

  “That’s how the story always went,” Martin replied. “I don’t know anything for sure, but it seems likely, knowing Will. He probably had a girlfriend or even two that Alberta didn’t know about.”

  “It’s such a sad story,” Janet sighed.

  “It is. I always think of her when I see those candleholders. Now you’ll think of her as well.”

  Janet nodded. She already thought of Alberta every time there was a full moon. Maybe she didn’t need any more reminders.

  “How are things?” Stuart asked.

  Martin blinked at him and then shrugged. “Things are fine, I suppose.”

  “You’re doing okay out here on your own?” Stuart wondered.

  “I was, and then my stepson turned up,” Martin replied with a frown. “Now he’s underfoot all day and night, him and his friends.”

  “I don’t know that I’ve met him,” Stuart said thoughtfully.

  “You probably did when he was younger, but he hadn’t been here in years before he turned up last week. His mother finally passed, and he says he wasn’t sure what to do with himself after that.”

  “His mother was Margaret?” Stuart asked.

  “No, Margaret was my first wife. We married young and she passed in childbirth. I lost the baby as well. I swore I wouldn’t marry again, but then I met Bethany.”

  “Oh, I remember Bethany,” Stuart frowned.

  Martin nodded. “Everyone frowns when they remember Bethany,” he said. “She wanted a father for Nick and a roof over her head, so she married me as soon as she was able to convince me that it was my idea. She was gone within a few months, chasing after some other man with more money.”