Still, Chester it would have to be. He thought about the woman and wondered which he despised more about her: her foolish gullibility or her little moustache.
He reached for his mobile.
“Supper? I’d love to, sweetie,” he was saying a few moments later. “I’ll catch the next train to Chester and be with you by late afternoon. I’m counting the minutes, too. Good-bye, my dear.”
He ran his hand over his face and decided there was just enough time for a quick shave. In his line of work, you had to look your best.
* * *
A few nights later, Penny and Victoria joined the queue of eager, aspiring dancers at the community centre who were lining up at a table where bank manager Huw Bowen, who ran the bridge club evenings, was taking in money, checking names off a typed list, and handing out name tags.
“This is proving much more popular than I thought it would,” said Penny, looking around the room as she peeled off her HELLO! MY NAME IS PENNY badge and slapped it on her sweater.
“Too bad Gareth couldn’t make it, though,” Victoria replied. “There seems to be more women than men. But I guess there usually are at something like this.” After a moment she added, “And don’t forget, it’s just the first night, so people will be here out of curiosity and to see if they like it. Some of them won’t be back next week.”
“Gareth said pretty much the same thing. But he also said that he’d try to come to the second class, if there is a second class,” said Penny, glancing over Victoria’s shoulder and raising her hand. “Oh, look, there’s Thomas and Bronwyn. Let’s go over and join them.”
“Well, what do make of all this, then, Penny?” asked Bronwyn Evans with a vague hint of a mischievous smile.
“Not sure, yet,” Penny replied, “but Victoria and I were just saying there seems to be a pretty good turnout for a cold November night when it’s much easier to stay home.”
“I think some people feel the same way about going to church of a Sunday morning.” The Reverend Thomas Evans smiled. “Of course, I can hardly get Bronwyn to leave the house these days because she doesn’t like leaving wee Robbie home alone.”
“Well, he misses me,” Brownwyn said, referring to the cairn terrier the couple had found cowering in the churchyard a few months earlier. In their kind and loving home, the abused, frightened dog had become a loving, trusting pet.
She seemed about to say something else when a trim man who appeared to be in his fifties took the centre of the floor and clapped his hands. He was smartly dressed in a casual way, in an open-necked white shirt under a navy blue blazer, with a blue-and-white polka-dot handkerchief peeking cheerfully from the breast pocket. Improbably, he was lightly tanned and looked as if he had just spent a long weekend yachting in the south of France.
“Is that him?” Victoria whispered. “He looks a little young for Mrs. Lloyd.” Penny flashed her a knowing look and the two turned their attention back to the speaker.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll just gather round for a moment,” Harry began, “I’d like to explain a few things and then we’ll get started. We’re going to begin our dancing this evening by learning the fundamentals of that most graceful of dances, the waltz. This is the most classic and traditional of all the ballroom dances.”
A tiny murmur of anticipation rippled through the small group as they exchanged nervous glances.
“Here’s a bit of history for you. The waltz originated as a seventeenth-century Bavarian country folk dance before finding its way into European ballrooms in the early 1800s, and since then it’s been one of the most popular of our formal dances and, if I may say so, when done properly, the most beautiful.”
He gave Mrs. Lloyd a warm look, as if seeking reassurance, and then continued.
“Now watch closely. The basic movement is a three-step sequence that consists of a step forward or backward, a step to the side, and then a step to close the feet together.” Saunders demonstrated as he talked, holding an imaginary partner in his arms. “So let’s everybody try doing that, just on your own. You’ll partner up in a moment. So, all together, start off by stepping back on the right leg, then to the side, then together, then forward, side, together.”
He continued his demonstation as he spoke. “Don’t lift your feet too high. You are not prancing ponies. Glide! Glide! And again and again.”
He watched with apparent satisfaction as the group shuffled self-consciously about.
“Now,” he said, “take your partners, gentlemen placing your hands on the small of your partner’s back.” He turned to Mrs. Lloyd, held out his hand, and pulled her toward him.
“Don’t look at each other. Heads to the side, hands just so, and now let’s try doing your little box step.”
Giggling, Penny and Victoria were about to take each other as partners when Philip Wightman, the town undertaker, stepped forward. “May I have this dance?” he inquired in an old-fashioned way, holding out his hand to Victoria. She gave Penny a quick glance and then placed her hand in his. “I’ll be back for you next time, Penny,” said Philip.
Penny smiled at him and walked off to watch from the sidelines as the pairs took their first tentative steps.
“Good, good, very good. That’s it.” Harry and Mrs. Lloyd paused for a moment so he could observe the other couples. “Are we ready to try it with music?” He nodded at a teenager seated in the corner in front of a couple of large speakers and a hefty CD player. “And once we’ve mastered the basic steps, we’ll add in some turns and work on our movements. I want to see you sway, rise, and fall away smoothly in time to the music. Remember, this is an elegant, sophisticated dance. Your steps should be smooth and confident.
“Right then. Here we go.”
The opening strains of a Viennese waltz filled the room and the dancers took their first tentative steps. They moved awkwardly at first, many of them seeking reassurance by looking at their feet.
“Don’t look at your feet,” Harry called out. “They’re right where you left them!”
The dancers laughed and mumbled apologies as they stepped on their partners’ shoes or lurched backward when they should have glided smoothly and confidently to the side. Most of the people who had turned out had taken to the dance floor, Penny noted, although with the shortage of men, a couple of women were partnering each other.
As the music ended, the dancers applauded and inquiring eyes turned to Harry.
Holding a beaming Mrs. Lloyd by the hand, he asked if they were enjoying themselves, and in response, the little group applauded. Their enthusiasm seemed to encourage him, so he demonstrated a few more steps, and as the music started up again, the dancers set to work incorporating the additional steps into their routines.
Keeping an eye on the dancers, Penny wandered along the length of the hall to the end nearest the kitchen where a few chairs had been placed. She sat down and a few minutes later was joined by Glynnis Bowen, whose husband Huw organized most of the events in the community centre. At least a decade younger than her husband, the local bank manager, Glynnis was still attractive in a faded, what-might-have-been kind of way, and while she hadn’t exactly let herself go, she didn’t take the same care with herself as she had before she was married. At one time, Penny recalled, she had been a regular in the salon; now she booked a manicure only at Christmas, if that.
The two women greeted each other.
“I hear the new salon is coming along well,” Glynnis said, sliding onto the chair beside Penny. “I’ll be sure to make an appointment when you open. When will that be, do you think?”
“We’re aiming to have everything up and running in time for Christmas,” Penny replied. “Things have gone pretty well, all things considered. We’ve had some setbacks, that’s for sure.”
Glynnis nodded. “Penny, I’ve been thinking about asking you this for some time now. When I was younger, I used to really enjoy drawing and I wondered if I might come along with your sketching group sometime.”
“Yes,
do.” Penny smiled at her. “We’d love to have you. We’re just an informal group, but we enjoy our day out together and you’d be most welcome to join us. Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll ring you. Not sure where we’re headed for next, but there’s no shortage of beauty spots in these parts. And our Christmas lunch is coming up soon. We’re going to a smart new restaurant in Conwy for that.”
A few years ago Penny and Alwynne Gwilt, who looked after the local museum, had started what they called the Stretch and Sketch Club. Members, mostly middle-aged women, got together once a month or so to ramble over the rolling green hills and through the leafy, wooded areas that surrounded the town. Some brought sketchbooks, others brought easels and paints. They usually had a destination in mind and would set up when they got there, drawing and sketching the natural beauty that lay before them. In spring, it might be wildflowers peeking through the hedgerows, in summer a flock of sheep grazing contentedly in the high pastures, or in winter the rugged handsomeness of Mount Snowdon, its snow-covered summit basking in celestial light.
A warm, friendly man transplanted from Yorkshire had recently joined them, taking stunning photographs, which he incorporated into an award-winning blog.
Penny sold her watercolours in local gift shops and during the high tourist season found it difficult to keep up with demand. She wondered, though, if that would change with the greater demands on her time of running the spa.
Realizing that she had missed something Glynnis had said, she turned her attention back to her.
“… don’t you think?”
“I’m so sorry, Glynnis. I was miles away. What were you saying?”
“Oh, nothing, really. I was just saying that Mrs. Lloyd seems very animated tonight. I think she’s really enjoying dancing with that man.”
Penny followed her gaze to the centre of the room where the dancers were just finishing the waltz.
Something about the wistfulness in Glynnis’s voice caught her attention.
“Did you not want to dance, Glynnis? Surely Huw would give you a turn or two around the floor?”
Glynnis shook her head.
“No, not one for dancing, is our Huw. He likes playing bridge, but that’s about it. He’s really more interested in organizing the events because he likes to make sure the community centre is well taken care of. For some reason, he feels very proprietary about it.” She shrugged. “He just likes things to be done right, I suppose, and the right way is always his way.” She glanced at the group of dancers. “But I might ask the same thing of you. Would you like to join the dancers?”
“I’m not bothered. Really, I think I’d rather just watch.”
The music stopped and the dancers broke away from their partners. Penny and Glynnis looked up as Mrs. Lloyd led Harry Saunders over to them.
Talk about proprietary, thought Penny.
“Oh, Penny,” she exclaimed, holding her right hand over her heart. “I told Harry I’d sit this one out with you and give someone else a chance to dance with him. What about one of you?” She looked brightly at Glynnis. “How about you, dear, since Huw doesn’t seem up to it? Harry will show you the steps and you’ll catch on in no time.”
Harry held out a hand, and with a small shrug, Glynnis took it. As the two joined the dancers, Harry gave the signal and the music started up. Mrs. Lloyd and Penny watched as he put his arm around Glynnis and they started to waltz. They moved smoothly in time to the music, turning gracefully and rhythmically.
“Well, what do you think, Penny?” Mrs. Lloyd asked. “You can’t have enjoyed yourself very much sitting here on the sidelines. You’ll have to get the policeman of yours here next week.”
“You’re right, Mrs. Lloyd, I will.”
“Why isn’t he here tonight?”
“He’s with the major crimes unit, Mrs. Lloyd. You know how it is. It’s always something.”
“Well, I’m sure it is, but he shouldn’t let his police work get in the way of his personal life. Policemen tend to put the job first. They should pay more attention to all that talk about balance in their lives that everybody’s going on about these days. In my day, you went to work and you came home. You arrived on time and you left on time, and that was it and nobody thought any more about it. I think the problem is all these mobile devices everywhere. No one can survive five minutes without checking their e-mail. Is everybody so important the world’s going to come to an end if they don’t check their e-mail? Or send one of those awful text messages.”
Penny knew from long experience with Mrs. Lloyd in the salon that once she was off and running it was best just to wait it out, with the odd “mmm hmm” and “you may be right” sprinkled in every now and then to let her know that she had your full attention.
“And Harry and I have come up with the most wonderful idea for New Year’s Eve. He’s going to announce it at the end of the class tonight. You’ll want to get your policeman in on this, that’s for sure.”
At the end of the dance Harry returned with Glynnis, and Mrs. Lloyd stood up, smoothing down her skirt.
“Last dance,” Harry announced. “Evelyn, may I have the honour?” He turned to Glynnis. “Thank you, my dear, it was a pleasure.”
As the dancers resumed their positions, Glynnis turned to Penny.
“I’d better go,” she said. “Huw will be wanting me to help him close up. But please call me. I’d love to go sketching with your group.”
Penny assured her she would and then turned her attention to the dance floor. The difference in the dancers’ confidence and ability in just two hours was amazing. They smiled at their partners, held their heads high, and seemed to be really enjoying themselves.
“Now then,” Harry was saying, “Evelyn and I have a little surprise for you. Over the next few weeks we’re going to work on our dancing skills and then on New Year’s Eve, we’ll have a wonderful, old-fashioned evening of dancing. Best bib and tucker!”
Mrs. Lloyd beamed as the dancers broke into applause.
“Now next week, we’re off to sunny Argentina to learn how to tango. I hope you all enjoyed yourselves tonight and that you’ll be back next week. And tell your friends!”
Penny smiled as Victoria made her way over to her.
“Well, that went well,” Penny said. “You danced all evening with Philip.”
“It was fun. He’s a surprisingly good dancer.” Victoria smiled. “You don’t expect that from an undertaker.”
“No, I guess you don’t,” Penny agreed, “although I’ve always thought he’s a lovely man.”
“Yes, he is and I think he rather fancied you, at one point.” She lowered her voice. “But honestly, what do you think of Mrs. Lloyd and that dancing instructor? She seems really taken with him. Do you think he’s all right?”
“I don’t know, but what I can’t figure out is what he’s doing here. What would bring someone like him to this small town?”
Victoria gave her an ironic smile.
“The same thing that brought you?” And as an afterthought she added, “And me, too, I guess.”
Penny nodded.
“So I wonder what he’s running away from.”
“Or who.”
As usual, Glynnis and Huw Bowen were the last to leave the community centre.
“Well, I think that went well, all things considered,” Huw said as he checked to make sure the door was locked behind them. “But he might have consulted me about that New Year’s dance before making his big announcement. Now I suppose we’ll have to go and I was looking forward to watching it on telly.”
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Huw,” his wife replied. “I’m sure we could manage without you for one night.”
“‘We’? You don’t mean you’d come without me, do you?”
“Yes, I think that’s exactly what I meant.” She let out a bored, tired sigh. “Oh, I don’t know what I meant. Never mind.”
* * *
Mrs. Lloyd said good night to Harry on her doo
rstep. She had decided not to invite him in as she was tired and anxious to clean her face, slather on the expensive apple-serum rejuvenating moisturizer she had just bought, and slip into her nice, warm bed. The dancing had definitely tired her out.
She held her face up and he kissed her cheek.
Then, putting her key in the lock, she let herself into the still, dark house and stood there for a moment before tugging one by one at the fingers of her gloves.
“Had a good time, did you then?” came a voice out of the dark silence.
“Oh! Really, Florence, you scared the life out of me. What on earth do you mean by creeping up on me like that?”
Mrs. Lloyd switched on the hall light to discover Florence in her tattered dark green dressing gown with large red dragons winding around the sleeves.
“Sorry, I’m sure,” Florence said. “Only when I heard you come in and realized you were alone, I thought I’d just see if you wanted anything. Cup of tea before you head up?”
“Well, now that you mention it, that might just hit the spot, if you’re making one anyway,” Mrs. Lloyd agreed. “I’ll get my coat off while you get the kettle on.”
A few minutes later, settled on the sofa lifting a cup of tea to her lips, Mrs. Lloyd beamed at her companion.
“Oh, Florence, I do wish you’d come,” she said. “We all had such a wonderful time and everyone had such high praise for Harry. It wasn’t any time at all until everyone was waltzing away and having the time of their lives.”
She sat back against the plump cushions, waving away the biscuits Florence held out to her.
“No, Florence, and you must not tempt me again. I am determined to lose at least half a stone before the grand opening of the new spa. And that reminds me”-she leaned forward and set her teacup down-“I’ve decided that we’re going to give a little party of our own. We’ll talk about the date tomorrow, but I’d like to have a few friends and neighbours in for a Christmas drink one afternoon. Just a few mince pies and a glass of sherry. Nothing too complicated, but it is, after all, the season of goodwill, and we’re going to show some.”
A Killer's Christmas in Wales Page 5