Death at Rainbow Cottage

by Jo Allen

  ‘Okay. And we have two murders in the news and half the district in a state of complete panic, and you expect me to believe that the local papers are interested in my appointment.’

  ‘I don’t think I said that. But local papers talk to each other. They’re asking questions. How you answer them is up to you. I don’t think it’s a story.’

  ‘I don’t need your opinion.’

  He was annoyed by that. ‘Then what? I speak to the newspapers all the time. It’s part of my job.’

  ‘I’m aware of that. I’m asking you to be very careful what you say to them in future.’

  For a moment her fragile temper and high sensitivity reminded him of Phil Garner. If she’d been a witness or a suspect he’d have been wondering what she had to hide. Ashleigh’s attitude to life was much healthier than Faye’s — not flamboyant, not obvious, but an acceptance of facts and an absence of denial when challenged. What happened, happened and you moved on. But Faye, unlike Ashleigh, was the type who made enemies along the way. ‘Write the copy yourself if you’re that worried. They’d be delighted. But it’s a non-story. I’m more worried about what they might do with the homicides. A word out of place and all the speculation starts doing us damage and people get hurt. That’s what really worries me.’

  Chapter 13

  Becca Reid, bending down to place a bowl of cat food beside the back door, knew immediately who was at the door. Jude’s taste in cars was expensive and distinctive, and she’d learned to recognise the throaty roar of his Mercedes as it hummed through the village of Wasby when he came to visit his mother. Then the doorbell rang and Holmes confirmed Jude’s arrival, interrupting his lunge in towards his supper and performing some particularly improbable contortion to slide around her ankles and head to the front door.

  Becca followed his grey shadow into the hall. Animals always knew, and the treacherous Holmes had always seemed to regard himself as Jude’s cat rather than hers. Though common sense warned her to avoid her ex for the sake of her heart, she continually fell into the trap of engaging with him in the hope that the persistent tension between them would subside. It never quite worked out like that, and even if their best efforts to be polite fooled other people, the low level tussle they engaged in was profoundly unsatisfying.

  It was as well they weren’t still together. ‘Jude.’ She snapped the door open more smartly than she’d intended and Holmes shot through it with a chirp of ecstasy and rubbed round Jude’s ankles.

  ‘You don’t want to be out on a night like this, old lad.’ He bent and picked the cat up. ‘Sorry to bother you, Becca. I was passing, and wondered if I could have a word.’

  ‘Of course.’ She stepped aside to let him in. ‘You know where to go.’

  Still carrying Holmes, he headed through to the living room and sat down, stretching his legs out towards the fire she’d just lit. Holmes, on his lap, set about settling, kneading with claws out. ‘Busy today?’

  ‘Yes. And you must be, too.’ The two murders that had rocked the town were his problem. He’d be worrying at them, digging for information, turning every stone to see what lay beneath. This wouldn’t be a social visit. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘No, thanks. I won’t stay long. I wanted to ask you if you knew Gracie Pepper.’

  ‘Yes. I work out of the hospital. But you know that. She worked in the elderly care ward.’ He would know that, too. ‘She hadn’t been here long but she made an impact. She was very…’ She paused to search for a word that fully encompassed Gracie’s love of life, and failed. ‘Bubbly.’

  He nodded, his expression sombre. ‘I’ve just been up in Carlisle. At the post-mortem.’

  She tried to read his expression. There had been so much talk. How much of the truth would he tell her? ‘Did she suffer?’

  ‘No.’ He rubbed behind Holmes’s ears, frowning. ‘Off the record, of course, but it was fairly straightforward. One knife wound, just next to the heart. Not instant, but very quick. If that makes it any easier to think about.’

  ‘We’re all so shocked. She was just so…so alive.’ Ten years of nursing, most of it as a district nurse calling in on the old and the terminally ill, had left Becca accustomed to death, sometimes to sudden death, but some lives left a greater echo when they were lost and the shadow of malice aforethought always deepened shock. ‘And in the churchyard, too.’ She cut through the path at the bottom of it on a regular basis, on her way down to Adam’s if she was walking down there from work or if they were coming back to his house after an evening out. ‘Right in the heart of the community.’ It strikes at us all, one of her patients had declared, and Becca had agreed with her even while trying to dampen down the drama.

  ‘Yes.’ He was looking at her, his grey eyes serious. ‘I was nearby, as it happened. A few of us were having a drink in the Board and Elbow. Someone called us down there and someone else said it was a nurse. For a moment I was afraid it was you.’

  She leaned forward and poked the fire, which didn't need it, and when she sat back up again the heat of the flames had brought a scarlet flush to her face and the red glare of the embers danced in front of her eyes. ‘We should both be used to dead bodies, shouldn’t we? But it never gets any easier.’

  ‘Ain’t that the truth? I didn’t come here to upset you. I just wondered if you could tell me anything about her.’

  On reflection, Becca was surprised how little she did know. That had been the thing about Gracie. In the couple of months she’d been at the hospital everyone had been aware of her whenever she was present, and had talked about her when she wasn’t. She’d quickly become the one to lighten the gravest situation with a dash of bitter humour, often crude but always funny, the one whose witticisms were quoted and repeated, central to every anecdote told in the aftermath of a work night out even though she never stayed for more than the quickest of drinks. And yet somehow what she knew about Gracie, other than that, was sketchy, as if she’d kept her real self hidden behind that bright mask.

  Lots of people did that. Sometimes she wished it was a gift she had herself, rather than betraying what she thought and she felt to anyone who had an iota of understanding, just as she was betraying herself right then to Jude. ‘She lived up in Castletown, I think. On her own. She wasn’t married, didn’t have a partner or anything.’

  ‘Do you know of any close friends?’

  ‘No. She was friendly to everyone but not especially close to anyone.’

  ‘Do you have any idea what she was doing in the churchyard?’

  ‘Yes, as it happens.’ Becca thought again of Gracie, knowing she was falling into the trap of telling dull anecdotes about the dead. She knew, too, that there was sometimes information to be gleaned from the most trite of them and so Jude would listen. ‘She liked routine. She’d always drive to work, but every night she would get home and then walk down to M&S to buy her tea. That was her exercise.’

  He sat back, amused. ‘What a peculiar detail to remember about someone.’

  ‘Well, it isn’t really. I came across it when we had one of those extracurricular workshop things we do sometimes. We had to begin by telling everyone something unusual about ourselves.’

  His lips twitched into a smile. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I support Arsenal.’

  The smile turned to a laugh, and Becca found herself laughing, too. ‘What a disappointment. I thought I’d find out something about you I didn’t know.’

  There was very little that he didn’t know, other than the one thing that would alter his opinion of her for the worse. In an effort to protect herself against damage already done, Becca attempted a scowl and failed. It cut two ways. ‘I don't have secrets. Most people don’t.’

  ‘Most people do,’ he contradicted her. ‘Half the time it’s not something anyone would care about. They just think it is.’

  ‘You sound exactly like the guy who was running the workshops.’

  ‘Yes, because I’ve had to sit through one exactly the same. It was Claud Bl
ackwell, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. What did you confess to?’

  ‘An excessive fondness for this old fellow.’ He rubbed Holmes underneath the chin. ‘I was almost glad when we got on to the heavy stuff about challenges and diversity. Which is probably what he was aiming for. Anyway. Back to Gracie. You weren’t aware of any relationships? I’m not talking about a boyfriend.’

  It was the second time he’d asked. ‘Do you mean, was she gay?’ Len Pierce had been, the papers had said. ‘I suppose she might have been. I don’t know. Maybe she just hadn’t met the right person.’ Or she had, and had foolishly let that irreplaceable relationship go. For a second she contemplated whether she’d ever been subconsciously attracted to a woman but it was impossible to be objective with Jude sitting in front of her. She couldn't even think of Adam when he was looking at her like that. The quality of their sex life had been high on the list of points in his favour when she’d made the decision to leave him.

  He changed tack. ‘Do you know anything about the Rainbow Festival?’

  ‘It was mentioned at the church on Sunday.’ A sudden tear rose to her eye, grief for a woman she’d hardly known. ‘Bugger. Sorry. I don’t normally get sentimental.’

  ‘It’s understandable. What’s happening is unsettling enough even if it’s someone you don’t know. It’s much worse when it’s someone you liked and somewhere you know.’

  All those times she’d crossed the churchyard, alone and in the dark, without a thought. ‘I know. And everyone’s talking about it. Looking over their shoulders, wondering if they’re next. So awful for Phil, too, even more because he knew her.’

  That sparked his interest. ‘Did he?’

  ‘Yes. He was at the workshop, too, and he’d hardly have overlooked her.’ To her fury the tear overflowed and she reached for a hanky. ‘There’s no real danger, is there?’ It was an idiot’s question. She should have known better than to ask it.

  ‘I’ve no idea. I wouldn’t tell you to be any less careful than I imagine you already are, though.’

  He had the gift of saying everything while he said nothing, sharing a secret while keeping it safe. She judged that he thought Gracie might be gay, and she and Len Pierce had been targeted for their sexuality. That meant anyone straight was safe. Her lip curled. Was it wrong to be reassured? ‘I’m always careful.’

  ‘Good.’ He pushed Holmes off his lap in a easy move. ‘I’d better go. Lots to do.’

  He looked tired. God knew, he must have the conscience of a saint because whatever things he’d seen, he’d always slept like a child. Her lips pursed as she got to her feet to see him out. Now Ashleigh O’Halloran had the privilege of waking in the night and watching him as he slept. Pain was always greater when it was self-inflicted. ‘Will I see you at Mikey’s party?’

  He was halfway to the door before he answered. ‘I wouldn’t miss it. Though I’m not sure whether I’ll annoy him more by turning up or by not turning up.’

  ‘That’s harsh.’

  ‘Maybe it is, but I can never do anything right in his eyes.’

  ‘You know he adores you.’

  He turned round on the doorstep. A curtain of rain sluiced the path clean behind him. ‘I’m not sure I’d put it that strongly. I did my best for him, and I’ll keep doing my best for him. Maybe he’ll realise one day, and understand. Or at the very least, he might forgive me if he thinks I’ve got it wrong.’

  It was unusual for him to sound so downbeat. ‘Is your dad coming?’

  Jude and Mikey’s father had walked out years before, when Jude was old enough to cope with it but Mikey was still a child. They’d been together then, at the beginning of their long relationship, and she’d seen at first hand how he’d struggled to be the reasonable figure in the family, and how other people’s pain had eventually prevailed. The slight, wry shake of the head told her how much it still bothered him. ‘I’d be astonished if he’s been invited.’

  ‘I know for a fact he hasn’t. Mikey told me. In fact, he must have told me half a dozen times, so there’s a bit of me thinks he’s protesting too much. You know?’

  ‘Yes. But I don’t think I’m the one to make the intervention, and I’m sure as hell not going to risk lighting the blue touch paper by having him burst out of the cake as a surprise guest.’

  She struggled not to smile. David Satterthwaite had always had a theatrical touch, his sense of the big occasion not leavened by diplomacy, so that his extravagant gestures often missed the mark. ‘That’s just the kind of thing he’d do. You’d better not suggest it to him.’

  ‘I’d better not suggest anything to him. But you might be right, because somehow he knows about the party even though I’ve been careful not to mention it.’

  In the end, the complicated and counterbalancing stubbornness of David and his younger son were beyond Becca’s powers to move — and probably beyond Jude’s, too. ‘It was just a thought.’ She hesitated. ‘Will you bring your girlfriend?’

  ‘Ashleigh? Yes, I think so. She’s invited. Or rather, I’m invited with a plus one.’

  ‘Fabulous. Adam will be there, of course.’

  There was a moment of stillness, in which they both contemplated the malign influence that Adam Fleetwood had had on Mikey’s young life. ‘He’s turned over a new leaf, you know, Jude.’

  ‘So I believe.’

  ‘I thought you were a supporter of rehabilitation.’ It had taken longer than usual for her irritation with him to kick in but his blanket acceptance that the law was always right did the job. This was why they’d split. She couldn’t risk him knowing her too well and proving unforgiving of her faults.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘He’s working for a drugs charity, now. Helping people to learn from his mistakes.’

  ‘All credit to him.’ He stepped over the threshold and out onto the path. ‘I’ll see you later. I’m heading off back home to catch up on some sleep.’

  ‘Goodbye.’ Becca shut the door before he’d even turned, and stood there listening until the bass notes of the Mercedes had died away up the dale towards Penrith. She was already regretting mentioning Adam, but you couldn’t avoid facts. Jude had replaced her and she had replaced him, if only temporarily. She wasn’t so simple that she didn’t understand her new boyfriend’s driving passion was a slow-burning determination for revenge on the old. Adam was using her, in his own way, in an attempt to make Jude jealous, but how could that work when her ex had moved on to someone else?

  Chapter 14

  ‘Mikey. Hi, pal.’ Even as he spoke, Jude recognised the false jolliness in his voice, knew that he’d struck the wrong note.

  ‘Hey, bro.’ At the other end of the line, Mikey’s voice rang with suspicion. Usually they communicated by texts which didn’t need to be answered and the bulk of which came from Jude, or via their mother, so the fact that Mikey had picked up the call at all had to be counted as progress. ‘Still alive then, with some crazed maniac at large in town? Why haven’t you hauled him in yet?’

  ‘I’m doing my best.’ Wandering from the well-lit kitchen into the darkness of his living room, Jude stared out into the street. ‘And in my few spare moments I thought I’d give you a call. See how you’re getting on.’

  ‘Oh, right. So you’re handing out a bit of pastoral care to satisfy your conscience?’

  When he wasn’t busy being angry, Mikey had a more than reasonable grasp of the subtleties of human nature. Jude grinned. ‘I hadn’t heard from you for a while. I bumped into Becca this afternoon, and she mentioned your party. So I thought I’d phone and check if there was anything you want me to do for it.’

  ‘Just turn up,’ said Mikey, after a fractional hesitation that suggested he’d bitten back a smart remark.

  ‘I can manage that.’

  On the other side of the street Natalie Blackwell ran past, head down against the blustery rain, running with determination, as if in a race to save her life. Claud must be working late again, and she’d be pounding her
way around the town running away from God knew what. It was the second time she’d passed the window that evening. ‘Are you inviting Dad?’

  ‘No.’ This time there was no hesitation. Mikey’s refusal had been out of his mouth almost before Jude had finished asking the question. ‘He won’t come if I do. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of letting me down again.’

  ‘I thought it would be nice if—’

  ‘If he rolled up at my party when he’s been out of my life since I was a kid? Yeah, Jude. That would be great. Just great. Brilliant idea. Wish I’d thought of it.’

  ‘He didn’t want to be out of your life.’ When their father’s mid-life crisis had proved to be permanent and caused emotional carnage all around him, Mikey had been unable to forgive. David’s attempts to make amends had been routinely rebuffed, except for the occasions when Mikey had taken pleasure in arranging to meet him and then not turning up, though he always cashed the cheques that came to him on birthdays and Christmas.

  ‘Then he shouldn’t have gone. And it isn’t fair to Mum. Because he sure as hell wanted to be out of her life.’

  Their mother, who had been an innocent party in the break-up as far as it was possible to separate the issues and allocate blame, was the obstacle to Jude’s argument, though at heart he thought she’d reached the state of bliss where she genuinely didn’t care. ‘You’re only twenty-one once. Invite him.’

  ‘He wouldn’t come.’ In Jude’s imagination, Mikey narrowed his lips and set his expression to an exact and unwitting copy of their father’s.

  ‘He won’t come if you don’t invite him.’

  ‘And if I don’t invite him he won’t have the chance to turn me down. So it’s all good.’

  It had always been an argument that was lost before it was begun. Jude let it slide. ‘Will I see you before the party?’

  ‘Dunno. I might come back from uni tomorrow. I might leave it until Saturday. It depends on what’s going on here.’

  ‘Give me a shout if there’s anything else I can do.’