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Murder by Suicide

Page 13

by Veronica Heley


  ‘Do you remember who was saying the worst things about Nora?’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t know names. One’s got a zimmer, another’s got two sticks. Zimmer-frame was saying someone ought to do something, get Nora to resign. Then my mobile went off and a job come up, so I got out. But I thought I might do my bit to help them, and there was this bit of paint left over, so … that was it, really.’

  Old ladies gossiping. Young buck thinks it a lark to ‘help’. End of trail.

  ‘Here, kitty!’ Neil flicked his fingers up towards the pelmet over the curtains. Midge had taken to climbing the curtains recently and sitting on top of the pelmet board where he could see everything that happened. The damage Midge was doing to the curtains gave Ellie another reason for having new ones.

  She watched with some curiosity as Neil tried to entice the cat down. Midge, predictably, played hard to get.

  Then he did his vanishing trick. One minute he was up on top of the pelmet, and the next he’d disappeared. He popped into sight again right by Neil’s chair.

  ‘Nice cat,’ said Neil, rubbing behind Midge’s ears. Ellie waited for Midge to do the bottle-brush act with his tail, but instead he sniffed all over Neil’s trainers, taking his time about it. He then pounced on Neil’s laces and tried to worry them loose. ‘Gerroff, you!’ said Neil, laughing. He picked the cat up and babied him.

  To Ellie’s amazement, Midge seemed to enjoy this. Perhaps Neil was to be trusted, after all. And maybe – if he were properly supervised – she could use him to help with Kate’s garden.

  ‘Coffee, or tea? And a biscuit?’

  As she brought in a tray she noticed that her newspaper was now halfway across the floor, with Midge under it playing bears with Neil. Her sherry glass was in plain sight. He got back into his chair, trying to pretend that he hadn’t just been tumbling around the floor with a cat. He watched as Ellie picked up her glass and set it on the table. Now it would be all round the neighbourhood that she was a secret afternoon drinker.

  She said, ‘You’ve noticed I had a sherry. I don’t normally drink …’ She could feel his scepticism. ‘… but that letter gave me a shock. I should have given myself a cup of sweet tea instead, shouldn’t I?’ He grinned, not committing himself. Midge lost interest in the newspaper and wandered out into the kitchen.

  Ellie said, ‘Now tell me about yourself; what training you’ve had and what you’ve been accustomed to doing.’

  He was very happy to talk and eat at the same time. It was as she had guessed. School, helping out with his friend’s dad who did odd jobs in the building trade, aiming to take some carpentry course or other, but …

  Fortunately she had put out the packet of Jaffa Cakes she had in the cupboard, because he ate through them as though he hadn’t eaten for days. It did cross Ellie’s mind to wonder if Mrs Dawes was feeding him properly, but she reflected that anyone of Mrs Dawes’s ample girth would need three-course meals to maintain the status quo. It was more probable that this lad just had an appropriate appetite for his age and build.

  He was just getting down to slagging off his dad’s new girlfriend when there was a tap on the French windows leading to the back garden. Ellie gave a little scream, seeing what looked like an unrecognizable face pressed to the glass.

  Neil swung to his feet, ‘Wazzat?’ Confiding in Ellie had somehow turned him into her champion and he appeared ready to tackle the newcomer with raised fists if necessary.

  Ellie laughed. ‘It’s all right. It’s only my respectable architect friend.’

  ‘Ah.’ Another assessing look. He was going to tell everyone that Ellie’s friend had secretly turned up at the back window. ‘I’d best be off, then. I’ll let myself out and you’ll give me a bell about the garden, right?’

  Ellie wrestled the French windows open and in stepped Roy, cursing and holding onto the back of his right hand. ‘Glad to find you in at last, Ellie. Thought I’d take a short cut this way, but some damn cat came streaking out of the bushes and slashed my hand …’

  Midge?

  Ellie took Roy into the kitchen, bathed the scratch and put a plaster on it. Men always made a fuss about such things and it was better to humour them – especially if it had been Midge who had inflicted the wound.

  ‘Sorry if I interrupted something,’ said Roy. ‘You’ve been so elusive lately. Who was that young man, anyway? Have you been cradle-snatching?’ He was only half joking. He continued, ‘I phone you, and always get the answerphone. I drop in notes, and you don’t reply. I wondered if I’d done anything to offend you.’

  ‘Not you, Roy. Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?’

  ‘Ouch, that hurt. Yes, a sherry would be good.’

  She decided that another sherry would be one too many for her, but poured out a generous glass for Roy and a whisker for herself.

  He drank deeply. ‘Ah. So tell me, what has been keeping you so busy that you haven’t time to see me?’

  She had been perfectly all right up to that moment. She had dealt with poor Nora, the first two poisonous letters, the cleaners, the decorators, Diana, Aunt Drusilla and the typed letter, Timothy and the computer, and had retained her composure. It took Roy’s kindly assumption of authority to break through her self-sufficiency. She began to tremble. She was going to cry. How embarrassing!

  She felt for her hankie and as usual failed to find one. There was a box of tissues on the table. She mopped up and blew her nose. She was still shaking. She told herself not to be so stupid, she could manage perfectly well – but wouldn’t it be a wonderful relief to tell someone like Roy all about it?

  She fished out the poison-pen letters and handed them over to Roy. He put on his glasses to read them. Nice glasses, fashionable. They suited him, as did his smart but casual leather jacket and well-cut slacks.

  He read them through and stilled. He didn’t raise his eyes from them.

  She thought, he’s wondering how much of that is true, and yet he of all people ought to know that none of it is true. ‘This is awful!’

  Somehow she was sitting by his side on the settee, he had his arms around her and she was sobbing into his jacket. Oh, the relief to have someone kind and strong take over! Almost as good as having Frank back.

  She sat upright and tried to push him away while reaching for the box of tissues yet again. She couldn’t seem to stop talking – all about Aunt Drusilla, and Diana and the flat, and Timothy and the computer, and thinking that Neil had written the letters but of course he hadn’t, and yes, that was Neil she’d been talking to, about gardening, although he really didn’t have a clue …

  ‘My poor dear love,’ said Roy. This was exactly what she wanted to hear, wasn’t it? ‘There, there. Roy’s here. Now, this has got to stop, do you hear me? I’m not going to have my little partner upset like this. Why didn’t you tell me what was going on? I’d have been over like a shot. What are the police thinking of, to allow this to happen? It’s outrageous. And you all alone, having to cope with all this … well, that’s one thing you’ve got to get into your dear little head. You’re not alone now. Understand?’

  He kissed her cheek, and then made a dab at her lips too. She was still trembling, still weepy, and his kisses were very comforting, as was his arm around her shoulders. Even Frank hadn’t been so loving. In fact, Frank would have been more likely to tell her to pull herself together. Roy kissed her again, his aim improving.

  She liked it. She thought, Frank, I shouldn’t, it’s too early, but I’ve missed him so much, and does Roy want to go to bed with me? Because I would like it … yes, I would … or would I? Yes I would … no I wouldn’t … what do I want? I don’t know …

  She needed to think … no she didn’t … yes she did. She succeeded in drawing back a little. ‘Sorry to be such a weepy-waley, but it’s just been so awful!’

  ‘There, there.’ His fingers were at the zip of her skirt, and she didn’t know whether she wanted him to go further or not. He put his hand inside her skirt and began to stroke her
thigh, which was good, oh so good … She could feel that he was ready to unzip his slacks, and did she want that? She was going all soft and swoopy, but … no. He was going too fast for her.

  She sat upright so that he had to withdraw his hand. She zipped up her skirt with one hand, while pushing his face away from hers with the other. Only her hand insisted on stroking his cheek, because really he was so nice, and very attractive, and it had been months since she’d felt a man’s body wanting hers.

  He smiled, taking the hint like the gentleman he was.

  ‘Come away with me, Ellie. Let’s take a little holiday. Get right away till everything’s calmed down.’

  ‘A holiday?’ Her mind went to the travel brochures on the table. ‘But …’

  ‘Somewhere in the sun, a good hotel with a nightclub. I know one in Madeira which—’

  ‘Roy, don’t rush me.’

  ‘Am I? I suppose I am. But I liked the look of you, the moment we met. I’ve been trying to hold off, telling myself it’s too soon …’

  ‘You call this holding off?’

  ‘I was trying to.’

  They both laughed. She got up and moved to her usual chair, away from temptation. It would have been so easy to give in, to let him do what he wanted, and she wasn’t really entirely sure why she had withdrawn. It would be so easy to return to the warmth of his arms. Yet she didn’t.

  He went to stand by the window, looking out on the garden. Rain hit the glass. It had begun to rain quite hard, and she hadn’t noticed it.

  He said, ‘So will you let me take you away from all this unpleasantness?’

  ‘It’s far too soon, Roy. People would talk.’

  ‘Let them. What does it matter? What does matter is that against all the odds we’ve found one another. I care for you and you can’t deny that you’re beginning to care for me, too. We’ve both lost our partners. We’re of age, independent. Why shouldn’t we give this new relationship time to develop, away from the gossip?’

  Put like that, it sounded all right. Didn’t it? Then why wasn’t she leaping into his arms again? He sat on the arm of her chair and took her hands in his.

  ‘Ellie, my dear. You can’t seriously mean to let a little gossip stand in the way of our happiness?’

  ‘I’ve lived here all my married life. My friends are here. I care what they say about me.’

  ‘Poor little dove.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘Has she been so damaged by life that she can’t seize the chance for happiness when it comes along?’

  She could feel herself turning soppy again. But calling her ‘little dove’ was a bit much, wasn’t it?

  ‘You and me,’ he said, warm breath into her ear. ‘Getting away from it all, away from this goddamn weather, somewhere warm in the sun, dancing in the moonlight on a beach. I know you! You’re an independent woman. You think for yourself. I know you’re brave enough to seize this opportunity …’

  He began kissing her neck. She liked it … no she didn’t … yes she did. But … She sighed, and he withdrew enough to look her in the eye. He smiled, lost the smile, regained it. Charm incarnate. But …

  The doorbell rang. It would. Was she being saved by the bell, or was it sounding the knell of her happiness?

  10

  Running her fingers through her hair, Ellie checked in the hall mirror that her neck wasn’t reddened with love bites before opening the door. It was Kate, in her long black coat, holding a laptop and a large pizza. Her wide smile turned to a frown as she saw Roy hovering in the doorway to the living room. ‘Bad timing?’

  Ellie hesitated, torn between ‘yes’ and ‘no’.

  Roy put his hands on her shoulders from behind. ‘Kate, isn’t it? Ellie and I have just been discussing when we can get away for a holiday together.’

  A look of anxiety passed over Kate’s face before she made herself smile and say, ‘Oh, well in that case …’

  Ellie didn’t like Roy forcing her hand, so she disengaged herself and, knowing that she was being contrary, drew Kate into the hall out of the rain. ‘Come on in. Filthy night. Lovely to see you. Roy’s just leaving.’

  Kate and Roy stretched their mouths into sort-of-smiles. Roy would perhaps have argued, but just then the doorbell rang again.

  Dear Rose stood on the doorstep, trying to hold up her umbrella while clutching a box of cakes from the Sunflower Café. ‘My, what weather! I remembered how much you liked chocolate éclairs, Ellie, so I thought I might just pop these in …’ She took in the figure of Roy standing close behind Ellie. ‘But … perhaps it isn’t a convenient time to …’

  ‘The more the merrier!’ said Ellie. ‘Come on in. Pizza and cakes for supper. Wonderful. Roy’s just leaving.’

  ‘Oh, this is Roy, is it? I’ve heard so much about you, Roy. I’m Rose, a very old friend of Ellie’s.’ She tried to shake hands with Roy while still holding the box of cakes and the umbrella. Kate dumped her stuff and helped Rose fold up the umbrella and take off her coat. Still Roy did not go.

  He bent over Ellie to murmur in her ear, ‘I’ll ring to find out when you’re free and come back later, shall I? We still have so much to discuss.’

  The doorbell rang again. This time it was Tod from up the road. His hair was rumpled and wet, his clothes looked as if they had just been thrown on. As usual. Ellie hadn’t seen Tod for some time. Not since his mother had bought him a computer, in fact. It was lovely to see him, but she wished he had chosen another evening to call.

  ‘My computer’s broke. I’ve just been swimming and Mum’s not back till late today, so … party, is it?’ he asked, dropping his school case and a plastic bag smelling of chlorine on the floor. ‘Pizza, great!’

  He had no qualms about walking right through them into the kitchen. ‘Yes, do come in, Tod,’ said Ellie, beginning to laugh.

  ‘I’ll phone for another couple of pizzas, shall I?’ said Kate, dialling with the familiarity of an old friend.

  ‘None of that salty fish on them for me,’ said Rose, draping her coat over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Different kinds of cheese, that’s what I like.’

  ‘Pepperoni for me,’ said Tod.

  Roy raised his arms in defeat and left, banging the front door behind him.

  ‘Well, isn’t this nice!’ said Rose, laying cakes out on a plate in the kitchen.

  Tod was already picking knives and forks out of the drawer. They could eat in the kitchen, but it would be a squeeze. Ellie drew the curtains in the living room, and laid out mats on the big table there. Returning to the kitchen, she noticed conversation among the other three had ceased.

  ‘Talking about me?’ she asked. ‘Or about Roy?’

  Kate gave a constrained smile and shook her head, but Rose blundered in. ‘Oh dear no, not really. Just to say how pretty you were looking tonight and how we hadn’t seen you looking so well for ages.’

  Tod despised women who prevaricated. ‘They said he wasn’t good enough for you, and I said, did you see what he was wearing? Nikes! At his age. That’s sick!’

  Everyone laughed and Kate changed the subject. The pizza man arrived with the order and they had an excellent supper. Kate retrieved the toolbar on the computer. Tod fiddled around with his homework, while casting sideways glances at what Kate was doing. Rose helped Ellie with the washing-up and brought her up to date on the latest impossible behaviour of Madam at the shop.

  ‘… she only wants us to go through the stock and set aside everything that’s been around for more than two weeks! Think how much extra time that’s going to take!’

  All the time Ellie was thinking: will Roy come back again tonight, and do I want him to? I wish my friends didn’t dislike him so much. They’re biased, of course. Used to having my undivided attention. Selfish of them. Why shouldn’t I have a life of my own now?

  Roy’s a nice man, a good man, and an attractive one. I really don’t see why, in this day and age, I shouldn’t go away on holiday with him, separate rooms and each paying our own bills. I shall
tell him so when next I see him. Though not perhaps tonight. It’s late and I’ve had a long and tiring day.

  Also, I must ask him about the letter saying he’s got a criminal record. I’m sure it’s nothing alarming.

  ‘… and there I was, almost forgetting,’ said Rose, helping herself to a dab of Ellie’s hand cream. ‘John and I put our heads together about the people we knew had bought those pads of paper, and then we asked the others too – though not Madam, of course; can you see her with that sort of paper in her house? More likely to have something handmade on vellum.

  ‘She told us once that she had a stock of handmade paper she’d bought in a mill somewhere in the country, and then she had it embossed with their name and address, but of course the telephone numbers changing so often has made it very difficult for her, poor dear. I wish we were all so well off. Well, then John got a list together and I did, too, though we can’t account for every single pad, but it’s a start if you want to go around asking, isn’t it? Oh, is that the time? Where did the evening go to, I wonder?’

  Rose waited for Ellie to invite her to stay for the night, which she had done once or twice in the past. Ellie decided she wouldn’t invite her, because she really did want to be alone to think. The rain had stopped, but it was still not a nice night to walk home in the dark. ‘I’ll ring for a taxi for you, my treat,’ said Ellie.

  Rose accepted the offer with many a twitter and fuss about getting her coat done up the right way, as she had lost a button, she thought, probably in the shop and goodness knows what would happen to it, but with a bit of luck it would still be there in the morning …

  Putting her into the taxi, Ellie paid the driver in advance, but was called back by Rose waving some papers at her at the last minute. One sheet of paper torn from a writing block of ruled paper and one purple sheet, the two fastened together with a safety pin.

  ‘Ellie, Ellie! I almost forgot your lists!’

 

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