‘No, but as it happens Georgia reminded me just now that I’d been considering the Willows.’ She tilted her head downwards, in the direction of the furniture emporium beneath them. ‘She offered to invite us to dinner with Julian and his wife, so I’d have the chance to sound him out.’
‘Good. That’ll get you back on track. So what else is new? We’ve not really caught up since you came back from holiday.’
‘Nothing much; it’s been a question of ploughing through all the mail, phone calls and emails. The only bit of news, for what it’s worth, is that the house next door has been let again. I think it’s an elderly couple this time.’
Lindsey nodded absently. ‘Have you spoken to Mum or Pops since you got back?’
‘Yes, both of them. Pops was telling me about Catherine’s little granddaughter.’
The baby’s birth had disrupted a family lunch at Easter.
‘He’s quite besotted with her,’ Lindsey confirmed.
They leaned back in their chairs as the quiches and salads were placed in front of them.
‘He suggested we might like to go to Catherine’s one weekend, when Daniel and Jenny are over,’ Rona added.
‘I hope I’m not included in the invitation. Babies do nothing for me.’ Lindsey unfolded her napkin, then looked up as a thought struck her. ‘They won’t be at our lunch, will they?’
It was the twins’ birthday the following Saturday, and there was to be a celebration meal at the Clarendon Hotel.
‘No, it’s immediate family only,’ Rona said. ‘Catherine’s going over to Cricklehurst – largely out of tact, I suspect, since Mum wouldn’t have come otherwise.’ Although their parents were now on reasonable terms, meetings between Avril and her replacement were strained.
Lindsey reached for the salad dressing. ‘What are you doing the rest of Saturday?’
‘Max is taking me to the theatre. We’ll have supper after, and spend the night at the Argyll.’
‘Very nice too. What are you seeing?’
‘The Sound of Music. It’ll be interesting to see the new production, after all the publicity. Remember Mum taking us to the film, when we were little?’ She topped up their glasses. ‘How about you? What have you planned?’
‘Hugh’s taking me out. Dinner somewhere, I think, though I told him I wouldn’t be hungry, after a large lunch.’
‘Very gracious of you.’
‘Well, it’s true.’ She paused. ‘It’ll be like old times, spending my birthday with him.’
‘You realize you’re on dangerous ground?’
‘He knows the position.’
‘Does he know about Dominic?’
‘There’s not much to know,’ Lindsey said bitterly. ‘Anyway, enough of that; tell me about Greece. Where did you stay?’
Forty minutes later, as they emerged on to Guild Street, Rona said suddenly, ‘Let’s have a look round Willows’.’
‘Thinking of splurging on a three-piece suite?’
‘No chance, and if we were, I doubt we could afford their prices. I just want a look round, to get a feel for the place.’
‘You’re seriously considering them, then?’
‘Linz, this has all come up in the last hour. I’m weighing possibilities, that’s all.’
‘Won’t it look odd if you come across Julian, then meet him again at the Kingstons’?’
‘He won’t be there. None of the family work on the shop floor.’
‘Too grand, I suppose,’ Lindsey said with a sniff.
‘Georgia says there’s a title in their ancestry, which is why they give themselves airs.’
Lindsey snorted. ‘And further back, a barrow-boy, so the story goes. Bet they don’t dwell on that.’
‘Actually, I think they’re quite proud of it.’
‘Inverse as well as actual snobbery? You’ll be walking on eggshells.’
‘Nonsense, it’ll be fine. I barely know Julian and have never met his wife, but they can’t be that bad if they’re friends of Patrick and Georgia. Let’s suss it out. Gus won’t be welcome, though; we’d better leave him here.’
She tied his lead to some railings, gave him a pat, and, pushing open the swing door, they went inside, to be immediately engulfed in opulence. A thick carpet covered the floor, low music played in the background, and the coolness of circulating air was balm after the heat outside. On all sides, stretching back into the interior, were room settings of exquisite furniture, gleaming richly in the soft lights. Dining tables in modern or reproduction styles were set with delicate china – some of it Curzon, Rona noted; beds were made up with exotic spreads or duvets and piled high with plump, colour-coordinated cushions, while in living-room settings, leather sofas and low, lamp-lit tables suggested the ultimate in comfortable relaxation.
‘Would you like any help, ladies?’ enquired a smooth voice, and they turned to find a young man smiling at them.
‘We’re just looking, thank you,’ Rona said.
‘Fine; but should you need any information on prices or availability, please don’t hesitate to ask.’
He moved away, leaving them to their browsing.
‘It makes me want to throw everything out, and start again,’ Lindsey said.
‘That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?’
‘Seriously, Ro, I’m realizing that my tastes have changed. The furniture in the flat is what Hugh and I chose together, and split between us when we divorced. I can still picture him sitting in the chairs, which can be disconcerting when I’m with Jonathan. The idea of updating hadn’t occurred to me, but it’s very tempting.’
‘Well, go slowly, for goodness’ sake – a chair or table at a time.’
‘But that could end up looking bitty. Better, surely, to take advice from an interior decorator or someone?’
‘It would double your expenses, for a start.’
Lindsey sighed. ‘No doubt you’re right.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I must be getting back; my lunch hour’s nearly up.’
‘Your lunch hour-and-a-half, you mean.’
‘Very funny.’
With a noncommittal smile at the hovering assistant, they made their way outside, where the hot air met them like a suffocating blanket.
‘Max is thinking of air con for the studio,’ Rona remarked, as she untied Gus from his railing.
‘I don’t blame him; we couldn’t survive in the office without it.’ They exchanged a quick kiss. ‘See you on Saturday,’ Lindsey said, and, crossing Fullers Walk, she continued along Guild Street in the direction of Chase Mortimer.
Rona rounded the corner into the side street, glancing in Willows’ windows as she went. Fullers Walk remained commercial for about a third of its length, accommodating, beyond Willows’, a florist’s, a bakery, a delicatessen and several smaller outlets, before the shops tailed off to give way to residential houses. Two roads led off it: halfway down on the left, Dean’s Crescent curved back towards the eastern end of Guild Street, and, having crossed it, became Dean’s Crescent North, where Max had his cottage; while a hundred yards farther on, the Walk was bisected by Lightbourne Avenue, the road in which they lived.
As she walked home, Rona’s mind was on the possibilities that had opened up, and she’d taken out her key before she realized there was someone in the garden of the house next door.
She paused and, glancing over the low wall, saw an elderly couple standing at the foot of the steps, the door of the house open behind them. They were examining a rather tired-looking plant in a pot, but, sensing Rona’s presence, they looked up enquiringly.
‘Good afternoon,’ she said. ‘I’m Rona Parish, and I live next door.’
‘Oh – how do you do?’ They moved uncertainly forward, and the man added, ‘Barbara and Keith Franks.’
He had, Rona noted, a slight transatlantic accent.
‘Are you settling in all right?’
His wife gave a nervous smile. ‘There’s a lot of sorting out to do.’
‘You’ve come from
abroad?’
‘Yes, Canada. We’re actually English, but we’ve lived over there for some time.’
There was a brief, almost embarrassed, pause. Then Rona said, ‘Well, if there’s anything we can help you with, please let us know.’
They nodded their thanks, and she continued the few yards to her own gateway and, still aware of their proximity, went self-consciously up the steps and into the house, Gus at her heels. And that, she thought resignedly, might well be the last words they’d exchange. Certainly they hadn’t been forthcoming, but it must be unsettling for them at their age – which she estimated to be mid-seventies – moving not only house but country. She wondered idly why they’d gone to Canada, and, more particularly, why they’d come back. No doubt she’d never know.
‘I’ve established contact with our new neighbours,’ she told Max, when he phoned later, ‘but I doubt if it will progress any further. They seemed pretty reserved. Their name’s Franks, and they’re from Canada.’ She paused, her thoughts moving on. ‘Have you ever met Julian Willow?’
‘That’s an abrupt switch! No, I know him by sight, that’s all. Why?’
‘I saw Georgia at lunchtime, and she offered to invite him and his wife to dinner with us.’
‘Nice of her, but again, why?’
‘Because I’m considering Willows’ for my next assignment.’
‘Ah! Well, I’d say it’s a good choice. They’re a well-known Marsborough family, after all.’
‘I’ve not reached a firm decision, but Linz and I had a sniff round the shop. It’s very plush.’
‘And pricey, I should think. Look, love, the class will be arriving any minute. I’ll have to go, but I’ll give you the usual call later, to say goodnight.’
Rona looked out at the garden. The sun was off it now, which made it a good time to do some watering. She went outside, filled the can at the outdoor tap, and began the time-consuming routine. There were at least a dozen urns and containers to attend to, and several hanging baskets.
It was as she was reaching up to a basket on the dividing wall that a movement caught her eye, and she glanced up at the house next door in time to see a curtain at an upstairs window twitch back into place.
Rona paused, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. Someone up there had been watching her, she thought. Why? Then she shook herself. She was being neurotic; no doubt whoever it was – probably Mrs Franks – had simply been straightening the curtain.
She risked another, furtive, glance up at the house, but nothing else moved, and she continued her watering. That was the second time she’d felt slightly uneasy about her new neighbours, and both times, she told herself roundly, totally without cause.
Resolving to put them out of her mind, she finished her watering and went back into the house, closing and locking the door behind her.
Two
Mid-morning was a quiet time at Belmont Library, and they were enjoying a cup of coffee in the minute staff room.
‘How are you getting on with your lodger?’ Mary Price enquired.
Avril Parish put down a book she’d been flicking through. ‘Fine, thanks, though I’m still on a learning curve.’
Mary smiled. ‘You said she has a will of her own.’
‘Oh, she has. A very determined young lady.’
‘That’s schoolteachers for you, even young ones! Perhaps they’re born, not made.’
It was through Mary’s good offices that Sarah had come to her – Mary having a friend at the school, who’d heard she was looking for accommodation – and Avril didn’t want to seem ungrateful. ‘In fact, it’s working very well,’ she added. ‘If she’s not out, she spends the evenings in her room, so we don’t impinge on each other, and so far, she’s been going home to Stokely at weekends.’
‘So far?’
‘Well, I’m not sure how long that’ll continue. She’s acquired a boyfriend.’
‘Ah! Have you met him?’
‘Briefly, when he called for her one evening.’ She paused. ‘Actually, Mary, I might be anticipating difficulties where none exist, but—’
‘No gentlemen callers above stairs?’
Avril gave a relieved laugh. ‘Exactly. Does that make me sound like a dinosaur?’
‘Not at all. It’s your house, and if you don’t want any shenanigans, you’re at liberty to say so. Is there anywhere else they could go?’
‘There’s the dining room. It already has one easy chair; I could find another.’
‘Then pre-empt them by suggesting that. You know: “Why don’t you ask So-and-So in for coffee? You could have the dining room to yourselves.” They mightn’t want to stay in, but if they did, you’d be covered.’
‘You’re brilliant, Mary. Thanks.’
‘Any time,’ said Mary Price. She passed Avril the packet of biscuits. ‘It’s your weekend off, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, fortunately. It’s the girls’ birthday tomorrow, and we’re having a family lunch.’
‘Including Tom?’
‘Including Tom.’
‘And his lady friend?’
‘No, thank God. She’s visiting her new grandchild.’
‘It should be good, then; you and Tom are OK now, aren’t you?’
‘Oh, very civilized,’ said Avril drily.
‘You’re doing fine, Avril,’ Mary assured her. ‘I really admire how you’ve pulled yourself together and made a new life for yourself, instead of sitting at home moping.’
Avril was surprised and gratified. ‘That’s nice of you; thanks.’
She did manage to keep busy, she acknowledged to herself, as she went to relieve Liz and Rita; what with working here four mornings a week and alternate Saturdays, spending Wednesday afternoons at the charity shop, and playing bridge on Thursdays. Not to mention becoming a landlady. Then there were bridge parties at friends’ houses and – though these had decreased since Tom’s departure – the odd invitation to dinner. All in all, as Mary had said, she was doing pretty well. The only thing she was lacking was male company, and there was not much she could do about that.
Georgia phoned at lunchtime.
‘I’ve been speaking to Felicity Willow,’ she began. ‘Not surprisingly, they’ve a lot on at the moment – when haven’t they? – and then, of course, there’s the added difficulty of Max being unavailable three evenings a week. Still, they are free next Friday – a week today. Is that any good?’
‘I’m sure it is,’ Rona said. Max’s evening classes frequently interfered with their social life. ‘Thanks, Georgia, that would be great.’
‘I didn’t mention an ulterior motive,’ Georgia went on, ‘so no big deal if you decide not to go ahead with them.’
‘It’s good of you to go to all this trouble.’
‘No trouble. We owe you dinner anyway, and it’s always pleasant to introduce one set of friends to another. I’m asking Hilary and Simon, too, to make up the numbers. Eight for eight thirty?’
‘We’ll look forward to it.’
‘See you then.’
She rang off, and Rona entered the engagement on the kitchen diary, relieved to see that a scrawl of Max’s hadn’t forestalled her.
The more she thought about it, the more she felt she’d like to research the Willow family. They went back a satisfyingly long way, and the founding of their business, from what she’d heard, largely coincided with the development of Marsborough itself. The firm and the town had grown up together, and fashions in furniture were known to reflect social trends – wide chairs to accommodate crinolines, and so on. There were all kinds of angles she could cover, she thought with mounting enthusiasm. She’d check out the development of furniture styles on the Internet, so she wouldn’t appear a complete ignoramus when she met the Willows.
Feeling more positive than she had for months, she opened a tin of sardines for her lunch.
‘Lindsey? Dominic Frayne. I was wondering if by any chance you’re free on Sunday? I’m flying over to France again, and it would be good to have co
mpany.’
Lindsey sat down abruptly, willing her voice to remain calm. ‘Dominic. That sounds exciting.’ And where the hell have you been for the last four weeks?
‘We’d arrive in time for lunch, and return after dinner. The forecast’s good, so it should be a pleasant outing. Would you care to come?’
‘I should, very much.’
‘Excellent. I’ll collect you at ten thirty. Better bring your passport, just in case.’ And he rang off.
Lindsey sat for several minutes, the phone still in her hand. Though they had met three months ago, this would be only the third time she’d been out with him. The first occasion was dinner at the Savoy, the second a visit to Cheltenham races. Each time, they had been conducted there and back in his chauffeur-driven car, and on each occasion he had been charming, courteous and attentive. But he hadn’t as much as touched her hand. And she’d been told – though admittedly by Jonathan – that he was a serial womaniser. It was certainly hard to believe, she thought ruefully.
‘Moving into second gear?’ Carla Deighton enquired, without turning.
She was standing at the window of Dominic’s flat, from where she had an eagle’s eye view over Furze Hill Park to the cluster of roofs and steeples that was the town of Marsborough. There was a breeze this evening, and in the park several brightly coloured kites were flying.
‘How do you mean?’
She turned and looked across at him, leaning comfortably back in his chair. ‘Only a selected few are taken to France.’
‘I enjoy her company, certainly.’
‘She’s very decorative,’ Carla remarked judiciously, ‘and you like to be seen with beautiful women.’
‘Which is one reason why I enjoy her company. I’m not sure what you mean by second gear, but I’m not putting my foot on any accelerator.’
‘Very wise. You might have more need of brakes – for an emergency stop, even.’
‘You’re being very enigmatic this morning, Carla,’ he remarked, with a touch of irritation.
‘Just sounding a word of warning. This one might not be the sort of woman who’s content to be ignored for weeks on end, and then phoned on a whim.’
Next Door to Murder Page 2