Death at the Duck Pond

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Death at the Duck Pond Page 9

by J New


  “If it wasn’t for me putting a good word in,” Milo continued, “you never would have got the land next door. I managed to persuade her it would be good for the village to get some new blood in, and that the construction work on your house would create local jobs. If I’d known you were going to bring in building contractors from London, I’d have kept my mouth shut.”

  “I appreciate your help with that, Milo, but if you can’t help an old friend out, who can you help? That’s why I’m willing to step in and bail you out. Just say the word. Sell the house and land to me and you’ll have the cash within a matter of days. How does that sound?” Penny saw Nick take a healthy swig of amber liquid from a chunky crystal tumbler.

  “It’s hardly a fair price, Nick. You know the place is worth a lot more than what you’re offering.” The displeasure was plain to hear in Milo’s tone.

  “It’s entirely up to you, old man, your call. Go ahead and put it on the open market and see how long it takes to sell. You could be bankrupt in the meantime. Old piles like this aren’t moving anymore. Economic uncertainty being the way it is, rich foreign investors are few and far between.”

  Nick paused and turned his head towards the door, and Penny took a step back, holding her breath. At that moment she spotted Fischer on the staircase and wagged a finger at him. Signalling him to come to heel, she could have hugged him when he silently obeyed.

  “I suppose I don’t have much choice.” Milo sounded weary. “I’ll be seeing my mother’s solicitor after the funeral. It’s just my luck he’s away for a few days, but he can draw up the paperwork as soon as he gets back. I’d love to keep the place in the family but needs must. I’m going to miss it.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t consider living here yourself?” Nick chuckled. “Once the conversion’s done, I’ll sell you one of the apartments at a good price.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet you will. I’m afraid my wife would divorce me if I suggest it.” Milo sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to let Celia know about this sooner rather than later. She’s lived here for a very long time. I’m afraid she will be terribly upset.”

  “Not your problem, Milo.” Nick set his glass on the side table with a clunk. “Any more of that scotch? Your father had good taste in whiskey, single malt, none of that blended rubbish. It’s a shame your mother and I didn’t get along, but I don’t think I ever stood a chance with her. She’d made her mind up to hate me before she’d even met me.”

  Penny was horrified by Nick Staines’ attitude towards Mrs Montague, and pleased to hear Milo berate him, albeit gently.

  “That’s my mother you’re talking about, Nick, and I’ll remind you you’re in her home. She was a sweet and kind soul, which you would have discovered for yourself, if you’d taken the trouble to get to know her. I doubt she wished you any harm. She had traditional values, and certain ways of doing things, that she stuck to.”

  And very nice ways they were too, Penny thought to herself, her ears burning.

  “Just one more thing,” Nick said, leaning forward. “Are you sure there are no other beneficiaries in her will? I’d hate for anything or anyone to get in the way of our gentleman’s agreement.”

  “I shouldn’t think so. I’m the only family my mother had. We may have had had our differences in recent years, but she always put family first. I expect there will be small bequests to her godchildren and her various good causes. Oh, and something for Celia, no doubt. A brooch or piece of jewellery, something of that order.”

  Penny had heard enough. As she was planning on telling Mr Kelly when she saw him, Milo seemed more friendly with Nick than being neighbours would warrant, and she wondered how that had come about. As she was leaving, she noticed a green waxed jacket hanging on the coat stand near the door. What were the chances, she asked herself, of Milo or Nick being the mysterious man Myrtle had been speaking to just before she died?

  There were so many things running through her mind on her way home it was impossible to fathom that a short while later they would all be displaced, and it would be something else entirely that would keep her awake all night. Bombshells have a habit of doing that, she realised afterwards.

  Susie’s name flashed up on the screen of her phone not long after she had eaten. She was in two minds about answering, given the hour, but a sixth sense that it was important made her pick up.

  “Susie, is everything all right?”

  “No. I’m coming over.”

  Waiting for Susie to arrive, Penny put the kettle on, bracing herself for a late night. Whatever Susie’s latest divorce woes might transpire to be, Penny would listen and reassure her friend for as long as it took to calm her down.

  One look at Susie’s face when she opened the door told Penny she had misread the situation entirely. Susie was there to support her.

  “There’s no nice way to say this,” Susie began, when Penny was seated on the sofa, “so I’ll just come straight out with it. Consider it like taking off a sticking plaster. A short, sharp, shock and then it’s over with.”

  Penny gave her a pointed look. “Are you going tell me what you’re talking about?”

  “Oh, Penny. It’s that toad, Edward. I’ve just seen him canoodling with another woman.”

  Twelve

  Lying in bed the following morning, Penny replayed the conversation with Susie.

  Canoodling?

  She had almost laughed at the absurdity of the old fashioned term, and what had to be a mistake on her friend’s part. “I don’t think Edward knows what that means. Or, if he does, I’m not aware of him ever having put it into practice. It’s exactly the sort of behaviour he abhors in other people.”

  Try as she might she could not recall Edward, he of the stiff upper lip, ever having engaged in a public display of affection during the whole time they had been together. The closest he had got to it was probably on their first date, when he had told her how pretty she looked, and at one point during the evening had tenderly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  Thinking about it made her chest tighten, and she threw back the duvet, resisting the urge to stay under the covers and never get up again.

  She felt bad for Susie, who had anguish etched across her face while she described seeing Edward dining in the French bistro, engrossed in conversation with a pretty blonde. Young, slim, immaculately made-up and expensively dressed, his mystery companion sounded like all the things Penny was not. Although she didn’t aspire to be someone who was judged by their appearance over substance. However, she had thought better of Edward than to have his head swayed so easily. There were, it seemed, so many things she didn’t know about him, or had subconsciously chosen to ignore.

  Instinctively, Fischer had jumped into her lap during Susie’s recounting of driving past the bistro and catching sight of Edward and the blonde sitting at a table in the window. “Are you sure it was him?” Penny rubbed her hand down Fischer’s back with smooth, methodical strokes.

  “Definitely.” Susie frowned. “I was stopped at the traffic lights, and something made me glance in. When I spotted him, I thought you must be with him, so naturally I waved.”

  Penny groaned. “Don’t tell me he saw you?”

  “Not at that point. He was too busy gazing into her eyes and trailing his finger down the inside of her arm.”

  The only time Edward had got close to stroking Penny’s arm was to awkwardly flick a fly off her perspiring skin on a summer’s day. “Next, I suppose you’re going to tell me a flickering candle illuminated her glowing skin and perfect features, and she was giggling coyly at Edward’s scintillating repartee?”

  “I wasn’t going to mention that, but yes, that pretty much sums it up. I parked around the corner and went back and stood outside the window. That’s when he saw me, taking a picture on my phone as evidence. Do you want to see it?” She started rummaging in her bag for her phone.

&nbs
p; “No, thanks.” Penny buried her face in her hands. It was small consolation Susie hadn’t stormed the restaurant and given Edward a piece of her mind. Apparently, the only reason she didn’t was because she was on her way to collect Ellen from her violin lesson and didn’t have time for a scene.

  “Say something,” Susie pleaded with her. “Aren’t you going to rant and scream, at least a little? If you’re not going to say anything bad about him, I’d be happy to do it for you.”

  “Please don’t. It won’t help. I’m not sure how I feel right now. I can’t believe he would do something like that. It’s so out of character.” She wasn’t sure what surprised her the most, Edward’s deceit, his willingness to go to the French bistro, or the open display of tenderness.

  Susie’s words began to sink in as Penny tossed and turned all night, wondering what she had done to deserve being treated in such a shabby manner by her fiancé. If she was being honest with herself, her annoyance was not directed fully at Edward. A lot of it was self-inflicted. By the time the alarm went off and ended her fitful sleep, she was under no illusions that she hadn’t brought the situation to bear on herself. The only reason Edward had treated her so badly was because she had allowed him to, not that that excused him entirely.

  Fischer, instead of lying in wait in his basket for her to wake him with a cuddle as was their custom, was peering up from the bottom of the staircase when she came down in her dressing gown and slippers.

  “Were you worried about me, Fish Face? You sweet little thing.” She bundled him up in her arms and gave him a kiss. “I’ll get over it. You’re my favourite boy, you know that don’t you?” She walked through to the kitchen and set him down at the back door. After she opened it, Fischer ran into the garden to do his business.

  If she hadn’t quite allowed herself to believe what Susie had told her the night before, the truth sunk in when her phone beeped on the kitchen counter where she had left it to charge overnight. The screen showed she had thirteen texts from Edward, which, at that moment, she had no desire to read. Unlucky for some, she thought to herself, switching the power off.

  She went about her morning routine on autopilot, putting the kettle on and soaking a bowl of porridge oats with milk before going back upstairs to get ready. As an act of defiance, she took extra care with her appearance, applying makeup and tweaking her hair with hot irons the way Susie had shown her, to give herself a confidence boost for facing the world. She knew where feeling sorry for herself would get her. Precisely nowhere.

  “Let’s go, Fischer,” she said, fitting his harness and lead. She guessed her confidence trick must have worked, as his earlier over-attentiveness had been replaced by his familiar exuberance and excitement at going on their morning walk.

  Outside, the bracing morning air hit Penny with a blast. She strode into the wind, Fischer delighting in the brisk pace, his little legs trotting just fast enough to always remain one step ahead of her. The way the elements stirred her senses was in sharp contrast to the dull pain she felt inside. There was no anger. She was hurt more than anything, but the fact she could not muster up any strong emotions regarding the man she was supposed to be marrying someday carrying on with another woman behind her back, told her what she already knew. Edward had known it too. They weren’t right for each other.

  Maybe, at one point, they had both believed they were, but that time had long since passed. Part of her admired Edward for having the gumption to take steps to leave their relationship, although not the cowardly way he had gone about it. And Penny? Had she forced his hand, so she could walk away leaving him as the bad guy? It was too early to come to any conclusions and raking over the coals wasn’t going to change anything. The sense of powerlessness she felt as she was buffeted about by the wind was accompanied by a wave of complete clarity that what she and Edward had wasn’t worth fighting for. And with that realisation came an underlying sense of relief. It might take her a while to get over it, but she would survive.

  Stomping past the newsagent’s, she was lost in a world of her own when a man exited and addressed her with a cheery smile. “Morning, Penny.”

  Her hair blowing across her eyes, she gave him a sideways glance, at first not registering who it was, until Fischer started leaping around in glee. “Oh, morning, Inspector.”

  Monroe fell into step beside her, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Is everything all right? You don’t seem yourself. I hope you haven’t had any more trouble?”

  It took Penny a few seconds to realise he was talking about the note. She forced a smile. “Not that sort of trouble. What has you in Cherrytree Downs this early?”

  He cocked his head towards the green and tucked his newspaper under his arm. “I’m here overseeing the removal of the police cordon. The green and the duck pond should be open to the public again in time for the children going to school this morning. You’ll like that, won’t you Fischer?”

  Fischer’s response was to lunge in front of Penny towards the Inspector, causing Penny to tug him back before she tripped.

  “See you soon, Penny,” the Inspector said, stopping to cross the road.

  “Bye,” she mumbled, putting her head down and continuing on her way, back to her thoughts of a life without Edward.

  “Fischer’s very lively this morning, does he ever stay still?” Mrs Potter motioned out the van doors to where Fischer was playing fetch on the green with anyone who would throw a stick for him.

  “I think he’s just happy for the green to be open again.” Penny stamped Mrs Potter’s books, inwardly grateful to her furry pal for providing the entertainment for that morning’s library visitors in Cherrytree Downs. She wasn’t feeling very talkative and Fischer’s antics created the diversion she hoped would make it less likely for anyone to notice her spirits were low.

  Even so, her mask slipped when Katy Lowry returned her books from the previous week and looked at her expectantly.

  Penny gazed back at her in confusion.

  “Were you able to get the other two books in the trilogy for me?” Katy asked. “I’ve been looking forward all week to reading them.”

  Penny suddenly remembered their conversation from several days before, and her heart sank. “Katy, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. I’ll be restocking the van at Winstoke this afternoon, so I’ll pick them up for you then. I can bring them around to the pub later, if you like.”

  “Don’t look so worried, Penny. It’s no big deal. Honestly.”

  To her horror, Penny found her chin wobbling, and she bowed her head, attempting to quell the sob that was rising in the back of her throat. How could she have forgotten something so basic? This was her job. She felt as though she had let Katy down.

  Katy reached out a hand, her touch gentle on Penny’s shoulder. “Please don’t be upset. Really, I can get them any time.”

  Penny looked up and gave her a grateful smile, unable to trust herself to speak.

  “Go on,” Katy whispered. “I’ll hold the fort if you want to take a break for a few minutes.”

  Outside, the light drizzle didn’t bother Penny, it just about summed up her mood. Fischer, spotting her, came bounding over with a stick and dropped it at her feet. She couldn’t help but smile. Lifting the slobbery stick, she hurled it through the air and watched him race after it.

  “There you are, Penny. I was trying to call you, but your phone was switched off.”

  She turned to see Mr Kelly, who was carrying an eco-friendly shopping bag stuffed with paperwork. “Sorry, I needed to clear my head for a while,” she admitted.

  Mr Kelly greeted Fischer and sent him scampering for the stick again. Turning to look out over the green rather than directly at Penny, he asked, “Anything you want to talk about?”

  She shook her head.

  “No problem, but if you do, you know where I am.”

  “Thanks.” Penny was touched by th
e way people such as Mr Kelly and Katy, were so sensitive to her feelings. That was one of the things about living in a small community, for the most part, everyone looked out for each other.

  “I wanted to remind you I won’t be able to come to the manor tonight,” Mr Kelly continued. “It’s my turn to host the Old Fogie’s book club. But I can meet you there tomorrow, if you’re going on your day off.”

  “That sounds good. And don’t worry about tonight, I probably won’t stay for long.” She sniffed. “I think I might be coming down with something.”

  “You’d better get back inside then,” he scolded her kindly. “You’re not wearing a coat. Would you mind bringing this paperwork to the house with you later as well?” He held out the bag. “I called the British Library first thing and went through the books we’ve earmarked for them. There were several they have copies of already, and I’ve noted them on the list, so they will need to come out of the box. And there are a couple of others they’re very excited about and are hoping we can send as soon as possible. The library will have a courier collect them.”

  Penny accepted the bag and peered inside. “Excellent. Leave that with me, and hopefully we can get them off tomorrow. Is there something else in here as well?” She could see a thick envelope, and the bag was heavy.

  “Yes. There’s some photos in the envelope I thought Milo might like. They’re from my sister’s old albums, taken at the dances she and her friends used to go to. There are quite a few old snaps with his parents in them. I checked with my sister and he’s more than welcome to keep whichever ones he wants. There’s no rush in getting them back, I just thought you may as well give them to him when you see him later.”

 

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