Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage

by Teresa F. Morgan

  ‘Yes … of course, but he gave it back.’ Maddy frowned. Would Connor do something like this to her? And if so, why?

  ‘Even so, we’ll need to follow this up.’

  More notes were made as the officers took more information from Maddy, everything she could give them on Connor, and also Valerie’s contact details, so she could verify Maddy had been at the gallery all day, and then they let her go.

  Maddy left Harry’s house with her brain in a whirl. CID had asked so many questions; she couldn’t believe how long she’d been sitting with them. She prayed she’d repeated strongly enough that she wouldn’t want to set fire to her own home. The officers had been nice, not condescending. So hopefully they believed her.

  She found Harry outside talking to a couple of the fire crew while wiping his hands on an old rag. As soon as she drew near, he turned his attention to her, so she smiled meekly. ‘The police would like to speak to you, as you discovered the fire,’ she said, hoping her eyes weren’t swollen and her face too blotchy from crying.

  ‘Of course, I’ll go talk to them now.’ Harry nodded thoughtfully. ‘I need to go wash my hands, too.’ He showed his large, ink-stained hands to her – the black ink ingrained into the creases of his palms and fingers. CSI had taken his fingerprints too.

  ‘See you in a bit.’

  ***

  Maddy found herself watching everything going on around her again. What she desperately wanted was some clean clothes.

  A lady wearing red overalls and a hard hat stepped out of Maddy’s front door. Maddy recognised her as the same woman who’d taken her fingerprints earlier.

  ‘Excuse me … Uh, Rachel, isn’t it?’ Maddy asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is it possible for me to go in and get some clothes? And I need to get my insurance details.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ the woman replied, smiling. ‘Hang on a minute, though, and I’ll check it’s okay to bring you through.’ Rachel came back five minutes later and ushered Maddy through her front door. ‘It’s safe to come in, but please don’t touch anything downstairs.’

  Straight away, the stench of smoke, so much stronger than outside, hit her. The burnt, blackened smell turned her stomach, making her hesitate in the small hallway. Usually, her habit would be to kick off her shoes here. Little point today. She shrugged off her fear, needing to face the devastation, and followed the crime scene investigator into the house. Walking through the lounge, it seemed untouched, although there was some black soot in places around the ceiling. A small wave of relief flashed over her – Maddy couldn’t see the two canvases she’d wrapped up for a commission. The fact that her paintings weren’t in the lounge meant she had moved them into the garage. She still wanted to check on them to put her mind at rest. Currently, her brain was doing cartwheels with all the thoughts and worries buzzing around.

  ‘You’re lucky you’d shut the door to your lounge, otherwise there may have been a lot more damage in here,’ Rachel said, leading Maddy through her own house, her overalls making a swishing noise as she walked.

  Weird, I don’t remember closing it. Maddy always left the door between her dining room and her lounge open so Sookie could go out of the cat-flap in the back door. Should she mention this? If she did, would they think she’d set fire to her house? Maybe she’d discuss it with Harry first. The lounge had minimal smoke damage because the smoke had travelled up the stairs instead.

  They entered the small dining room, and Maddy felt transported into a film set where a crime scene investigation was taking place; people working, wearing overalls, photos being taken. Only it was real. She could smell it. The reek was even stronger here. The door between the dining room door and the kitchen was charred, hanging off its hinges, and the carpet was black and sodden near the kitchen entrance. Her dining room was blackened by the soot and the smoke, stinking worse than a working men’s club in the days when you could smoke inside a pub. The smell clung to her nose. The dining table was grey and dirty with the soot. On the wall closest to the kitchen, hung a frame, the family photos of her niece and nephew inside ruined. A tear trickled down Maddy’s cheek. The devastation fire could do overwhelmed her. But she had to look at this more logically and less materialistically. Importantly, no one was hurt; she and Sookie were alive. The kitchen could be replaced. Everything could be replaced. But not a life. Even in this day and age, so could the photos. She’d printed them off, taken from her own phone. And as the disaster had happened in the kitchen, her old family photo albums and other irreplaceable items stored in the loft hadn’t been lost either. This situation could have been a whole lot worse.

  ‘Can I … can I … take a look at the kitchen?’ Maddy asked Rachel, who nodded.

  Maddy approached the door leading to the kitchen, hands in her pockets so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch anything, wanting to make herself as small as possible, and surveyed the wreckage before her. The uPVC back door was distorted and was being boarded up on the outside by two burly firemen. The fire investigation officer – Gary she’d heard him called – and another member of the CSI in red overalls were in the small kitchen, taking photos and analysing the ash around the hob. Maddy stood silently observing the horrific scene. Not only was there fire damage to contend with, there was water damage too from the fire hoses. There was a black puddle of water on the kitchen floor.

  ‘As you can see, the fire came from the hob,’ Rachel said, still accompanying Maddy. This was where the fire had attacked her kitchen the worst. Maddy assessed the damage. The cupboards either side above the hob were burnt out, the only contents remaining were those that could take the heat, like tins, but even they were misshapen, the paper labels burned clean off. What had been white cupboard doors, were now blackened and scorched. Other units had bubbled due to the heat. Grey and white ash lay everywhere. Bits of plaster were missing from the ceiling. Maddy hoped the fire hadn’t reached the room above.

  Amongst the charred remains were what looked like her recipe books. She glanced at the top of the fridge where she kept them. All her books had been removed. Had they been used to feed the fire? Should she raise this, or again, would they assume she’d done it?

  No wonder it looked suspicious. Someone had set fire to her kitchen.

  ‘It looks like you left your hob on,’ Dixons said, appearing beside Maddy, Rachel making room for him.

  Maddy frowned at him. ‘That’s impossible. I was out all day. And I didn’t even use it in the morning.’

  ‘A lot of people forget. Anyway, with the white spirit on the rags and oil paints so close by—’

  ‘Oil paints?’ It was hard to tell, but there were some remains of metal tubes on the floor which could have contained oil paints.

  ‘Yes, they didn’t help matters. I suggest you store those in your garage in future.’

  ‘But I don’t use oil paints!’ Her favourites were acrylics, far quicker drying, or she dabbled in pastels or watercolours. She liked working with acrylics because they were water based, so there was no need for white spirit to clean the brushes. The white spirit she did own was in her garage, left over from the last time she’d done some decorating – when she’d first moved in.

  Dixons explained the damage, indicating where the worst of it was.

  ‘I didn’t do this by the way. I was at work all day. It’s not like I needed a brand new kitchen or anything stupid like that.’

  ‘Bit of a drastic way to get a new kitchen,’ another fireman piped up. ‘But you’ll be surprised what some will do.’

  ‘I swear, I didn’t leave the hob on,’ she insisted.

  ‘I know, Miss Hart, but it does look deliberate,’ Dixons said, his tone noncommittal.

  ‘I didn’t do it!’

  ‘Well someone did.’ Dixons’ wore a grim expression. Anger bubbled inside Maddy. She didn’t know which made her angrier: being tacitly accused of arson, or the idea that someone had entered her house with the intention of burning it down. ‘All I can say is, it’s a good
job Harry noticed the fire when he did, otherwise your house would be looking a lot worse.’

  ‘Harry?’ Maddy’s breath caught.

  ‘Yeah, he made the call.’

  Gosh, she had a lot to thank Harry for.

  ‘We’re making the back door secure and boarding up the kitchen window too, so your house will be safe. We suggest, to access your home, you only come through your front door for the time being.’ Didn’t most people usually access their home through the front door?

  Maddy bit down her sarcasm – the firemen were only trying to help her – and nodded in agreement. It all made sense, yet it didn’t. How had a hob she hadn’t left on caught fire? Someone had to have done it. These things didn’t turn on by themselves. Her recipe books didn’t just move. But who would do that? And why?

  ‘But we’d rather you didn’t access the house at all until we’ve finished our investigations,’ Rachel said. She looked at Maddy with sympathy. Maybe she believed her? After a moment of silence, Rachel continued, ‘Would you like to go upstairs and get some things?’

  ‘Yes, yes, that would be great.’ Maddy nodded, her heart heavy, remembering the reason why she was in her house and walked up her blackened staircase, refraining from touching the bannister as she climbed. Rachel followed.

  ‘Everything is clear upstairs,’ Rachel said, as if trying to reassure Maddy. It wasn’t working. Downstairs looked like a bomb had hit the kitchen. ‘It smells a bit smoky up here, where there’s a little smoke damage, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a lick of paint. Up the stairs is the worst of it. Luckily all the bedroom doors were shut, so they haven’t got any smoke damage.’

  ‘I always shut them to stop the cat going in there,’ Maddy said, reaching her bedroom door.

  Rachel stood outside while Maddy grabbed her everyday essentials from her bedroom, putting them into a woven cloth bag, including her phone charger – a crucial piece of equipment, as how else could she make all her calls if her phone was dead?

  She rummaged for some fresh clothes but everything reeked of smoke despite the bedroom door being shut. They would have to do for today. Fortunately, having a small kitchen, her washing machine was in the garage, so she’d be able to access it. She thought of the mammoth amount of washing she would have to do. The bed would need changing, the duvet and pillows would have to go to the laundrette and then there were the towels in the bathroom. For now, she needed a change of clean underwear, whether they stank of smoke or not. With everything going on downstairs and knowing Rachel was standing outside, Maddy opted for changing at Harry’s, so stuffed a couple of pairs of clean knickers into her bag. Then, she bundled some clothes together to wash, throwing them into a plastic wash basket.

  Laundry basket balanced on her hip, bag over her shoulder, Maddy closed her bedroom door behind her, as if it would keep the room from being contaminated further by smoke and soot, and went into the bathroom to grab her toothbrush and her other indispensable toiletries. Then, closing that door too, she walked past Rachel and entered her third bedroom – the box room like Harry’s. Only hers was a study. In her small filing cabinet under her old oak desk, she found her house insurance details.

  She closed the bedroom door behind her as she exited. Rachel smiled. ‘Got everything?’

  Maddy paused, thinking of everything she’d grabbed. Had she forgotten anything? Satisfied she hadn’t, she nodded, hugging the basket full of clothes, the heavy bag full of her essentials weighing on her shoulder as she followed Rachel back down the stairs.

  Rachel escorted Maddy out of the front door and left her on her driveway. Maddy made her way through her decrepit back gate, dodging firemen and planks of wood, as they boarded her kitchen window and back door. The back gate had taken a beating more from the firemen to gain access to the kitchen, than actual fire damage, as it hung off its hinges lopsidedly. The gate would have been locked from the inside. It had had a fight with an axe. The axe had won.

  Maddy would need a notepad and pen to list everything that needed repairing.

  While juggling the laundry basket between hands and hip, she pulled the key out of her pocket and unlocked her garage door. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Please let her paintings be safe.

  As she opened the door, she switched on the light, and relief flooded over her. A weight of worry lifted. There, nice and safe, were her paintings for the Trewyn commission. All wrapped and sealed, ready for delivery. Another painting stood on an easel, started, but by no means completed. This was another big commission she’d received, and she didn’t want to let the buyer down. She would move the paintings to the gallery as soon as she could, but for now, the summer warmth kept the damp out of the garage, so it made the perfect storage place. In the winter it would be a different story.

  With the clothes bundled into the drum, she switched the washing machine to a quick wash setting. Dread filled her at the amount of washing she now faced. Hopefully, if it stayed sunny over the next couple of days, she would get most of her clothes dry. The rain usually arrived just as the school holidays started, so she had time yet.

  Then she’d have to iron it all. I might consider paying someone to do that bit. Or just wear creased clothes.

  Maddy locked up her garage and headed over to Harry’s house with her bag. The front door was open, which she was grateful for. She found Harry still talking to the police in his lounge as she entered.

  ‘Oh, sorry, is it okay if I use the bathroom? It’s a bit busy over at mine.’ Understatement of the year.

  ‘We were just finishing up, Miss Hart,’ said DC Adams, standing up. Harry and the other officer, DC Stone, also rose from their seats.

  Awkwardly, Maddy smiled, fearing at any moment the police might arrest her – even though she was innocent – and headed up the stairs to the bathroom. Locking the door, she used the bathroom, changed her underwear, giving herself a spray with her bodyspray afterwards – almost emptying the can. There, no one will smell smoky knickers. Entering her house had left a whiff of smoke lingering around her. She checked her face in the mirror sensing her eyes were puffy. She splashed her face with water and slapped on some of her own tinted moisturiser, hoping this would give her some colour and reduce any redness in her cheeks.

  When she came back downstairs, the house was empty. Outside, Harry stood on her drive shaking hands with the fire crew. He fitted in with them; big, muscular, burly men. He waved them off, then turned to face her, putting his hands in his pockets. He smiled as she crossed the road towards him. For someone so powerfully built and who could appear intimidating, he had a kind, gentle expression and his blue eyes emanated trustworthiness. She’d never noticed this before. Usually too busy being angry with him and seeing red.

  ‘The fire brigade have finished. They’ve boarded up the back door and the window until you can get them replaced,’ he said. ‘And CID have gone, but they’ve left their card with contact details for you to give to your insurers. I’ve left it on my mantelpiece. The crime scene investigators are still working, though, so you can’t enter your house yet.’

  ‘I need my back gate repaired too.’ She hated the thought of someone having access to the back of her house – especially with the back door damaged. They could attempt to get into the garage, if not the house.

  ‘I can do it.’ They walked around to the back where Harry examined the gate, assessing how it could be repaired. ‘I’ve got to go to Truro at some point anyway; I can pick up the materials I need there.’

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t have to,’ Maddy said.

  ‘It’s what neighbours are for. I mend a lot of fencing and stuff. I’ve probably got something knocking around in my garage that will do the job. Some of the wood is salvageable,’ Harry said. ‘And you’ll sleep easier if you know your house is safe.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Maddy’s chest heaved as she tried to hold in her tears. He was being so considerate. After the past few months of badmouthing Harry, and cursing him behind his back, did she deserve him
being so good to her now?

  She wanted to call her insurance company, which the police said she could do as they would be forwarding on their report. Was she insured for arson? Why would someone want to set fire to her house? And would her insurance company believe it wasn’t her? Insurance companies were good at finding some small print that meant they didn’t need to pay out money.

  Everything appeared very black and bleak for Maddy right now. A bit like her kitchen.

  Chapter 6

  ‘I’m popping over to Truro today,’ Harry said, placing a toasted cinnamon bagel dripping with melted butter and honey in front of Maddy. ‘Why don’t you come with me?’

  After a sleepless night, worrying about who would want to set fire to her house, Maddy wondered if the distraction would be a good idea. ‘Yeah, might do.’ She licked the sweet honey on her fingers.

  ‘It’s not like you’re allowed back in your house yet.’ Harry sipped a coffee, having had his breakfast earlier. Apparently, Sookie had woken him up – again.

  ‘True.’ CSI wanted to come back this morning and finish off and had told Maddy she still couldn’t enter her house.

  ‘Come with me, and you can get some items you need to tide you over. A bit of retail therapy may do you good.’

  ‘I need to call my insurance company first. Get the ball rolling there.’ She’d held off yesterday, fearing she’d burst into tears down the telephone to some poor agent. Today she was stronger. Or at least she hoped she was.

  ‘Of course. I’m in no rush.’

  ‘And I’d better call Valerie, to update her.’

  ‘OK, I’ve got to pop out for a bit to see a customer I missed yesterday. I’ll be back in an hour.’ Harry grabbed his truck’s keys hanging off a hook in the kitchen by his back door.

  After finishing her breakfast, Maddy made a call to Valerie who reassured her the gallery would be fine. It didn’t stop Maddy pacing around the living room while she spoke.