by Leo McNeir
For Anne, it brought a welcome return to routine. Each morning after dealing with the post, she drove up to Knightly Court to meet the decorators and satisfy herself that the programme was running on target. For Danny, it meant the peace and calm that most people needed for studying. Instead, she complained that it was too quiet. She had found it easier to focus on her reading when the archaeologists were busy in the field.
For Dolly, it meant ceaseless vigilance in the quest to protect her friends from mouse attack. To achieve this, she curled up on the hatch of Sally Ann, pretending to be asleep for several hours each day. The subterfuge fooled everyone.
The outside world seemed to have deserted the residents of Glebe Farm. Both sets of tenants were on holiday. Angela was attending to her committees and her flock. Celia made no attempt to contact Marnie, and the decorators told Anne they only caught glimpses of her as she came and went.
There was no contact from Donovan.
*
On Monday while tidying her desk at the end of the working day, Anne suggested a tootle on Sally Ann. Marnie thought it was a good idea and proposed that they eat on the boat. That pattern repeated itself every evening in the days that followed. After closing the office they cast off and pointed the bows in whichever direction they pleased. Simple meals were prepared while they cruised along: quiches, salads, garlic bread, artichokes, asparagus, avocadoes, salmon, pizza.
On that first trip Marnie stood at the tiller, wine glass in hand, watching the sunlight on the crops ripening in the fields and the cattle and sheep grazing in the meadows. She felt the soothing influence of Sally Ann, easing away the tribulations of the past weeks. Those pastoral outings reminded Marnie of why she had come to Northamptonshire, why she had moved away from the metropolis, why she had sought out the peace of the countryside and the solace of a narrowboat.
When the storm broke and the tranquillity of their lives was shattered, they would look back on those evenings as the best of the summer.
*
On Friday while they were preparing breakfast, Danny announced that she thought it was time to return home. Marnie and Anne said they would miss her. It was agreed that Anne would take Danny home on Saturday morning and combine the trip with a visit to her own family for the weekend.
Ralph commented that Danny seemed to be making useful inroads into her university reading list. While he was speaking, his eyes drifted towards the window.
Marnie poured his orange juice.
“Everything okay, Ralph?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You don’t sound terribly certain.”
“No, it’s just that … It’s nothing.”
“Ralph, if something’s bothering you, chances are it isn’t nothing.”
Danny stared at him. Anne got up and went to look out of the window.
“I know it’ll sound odd,” Ralph began, “but I had a feeling – just for a split second – that I sensed something in the spinney.”
“Sensed something?” Marnie prompted. “Like what?”
“Perhaps it was Dolly,” Danny suggested.
He shook his head. “She’s on the bed back there. No, it was movement, but not on the ground, a sort of change in the light patterns.”
Marnie got to her feet. “Come on. We can sit here surmising all morning. Let’s go and see for ourselves.”
There was a scramble to follow her out. Once on the bank, Marnie told the others to spread out and walk quickly through the spinney in line abreast. It took only a minute to sweep the area. Next, they turned to the HQ barn. Empty. The garage barn showed no sign of disturbance. They regrouped in the field behind the barns.
“What did you expect to find, Marnie?” Ralph asked.
“Dunno. I thought anything was better than sitting on the boat, wondering if there was someone poking around outside.”
They walked back to the docking area which looked as it had when they left. Anne led the way on board and stopped at the foot of the steps down into the sleeping cabin.
“Where’s Dolly?”
Marnie peered over her shoulder. “What d’you mean?”
“She was on the bed when we came out.”
“Probably joined in with the manhunt,” Marnie suggested, looking round.
“Dolly!” Anne called. “Dolly!”
With a quiet miaow, Dolly emerged from under the bed and rubbed her flank against Anne’s legs.
“What were you doing under there?” Anne said, reaching down to stroke her. “Did something spook you?”
The cat didn’t reply.
*
Just before four o’clock Marnie and Anne drove up to Knightly Court for the final handover. It was Anne’s second visit of the day. At her morning meeting she had checked that everything was on target for completion. The decorators had assured her they would have everything ready that afternoon. Celia had agreed to see them at four. She had made no contact with Marnie during the whole of the week and sounded subdued on the phone when Marnie had called her.
“That’s a good sign,” Marnie said as they rolled onto the drive.
The decorators were loading equipment into their van. Celia’s car was in its usual parking place by the front door.
“Can’t talk,” Anne murmured. “Speech is impossible. I’ve got everything crossed, including my vocal chords.”
“You’re not nervous, are you, Anne? It’s just a routine end-of-contract meeting.”
“Please refer to my previous statement.”
Marnie was smiling as she climbed out of the car.
“Hallo, John. All well?”
The chief decorator wiped his hand on his overalls before shaking hands.
“Fine. Nice to see a smiling face.”
“Oh? Problem?”
John glanced over his shoulder at the house and leaned towards Marnie.
“Misery guts in there – the Fairy Queen – seems to be worried about cracking her make-up.”
“John, have you finished the work?”
“Yes.”
“Are you satisfied with the outcome?”
He grinned. “It’s a cracker.”
“Then show me round. Do you know where Mrs Devere is?”
“On the terrace, when last seen.”
Marnie nodded at Anne who went to find her.
When they were all assembled, they began in the hall and worked through to the drawing room. Marnie and Anne were delighted with the results of their designs. The first negative moment came when Marnie asked if they might take some photos for the file.
Celia frowned and said quietly, “I don’t think that would be appropriate, for reasons of security.”
Marnie looked at her clipboard. “I think we’ve covered everything.”
Anne knew that at this point the property owners normally pronounced themselves as pleased, overjoyed or ecstatic, often all three plus a few more superlatives. Marnie paused for a moment.
“Are there any points you’d like to raise, Celia?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then it only remains for me to thank you, John, and your team for an excellent job. Once again you’ve done us proud. I’m delighted with the results.”
“It’s been a pleasure working for you, Marnie.”
For the second time that afternoon they shook hands. Celia’s arms remained resolutely folded across her chest.
John looked at her, inclined his head briefly and muttered, “Thank you.”
He was leaving via the French windows onto the terrace when Celia spoke up.
“Oh, there is one other thing, I suppose.”
John paused and waited. Celia turned to Marnie.
“When will these people want payment? Will they want cash?”
John went out. Anne lowered her eyes. Marnie’s cheeks reddened.
“We’ll be sending you an invoice in the post.”
Marnie held out a hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Celia shook it.
Walking out through the
front door, Marnie and Anne saw the white van leaving the drive. Like John, Marnie could not get away fast enough. They were in the high street before Marnie spoke.
“That bloody woman! These people, she said, these people! John was standing there, probably thinking she was going to thank him for a job well done. Will they want cash? I’ve never known such rudeness, Anne. Not a cup of tea, not a smile, not a word of thanks.”
“It’ll be good to close the file,” Anne said. “I’ll send the invoice off on Monday. Then we can forget all about Celia Devere.”
Marnie turned through the gate onto the field track.
“Let’s hope so.”
*
Marnie could not settle. She knew Ralph would be arriving in the office at around five-thirty, but she needed to walk to release tension and she wanted to tell him about the handover. Stepping down into the galley on Thyrsis she could hear him speaking on the phone. She waited until he disconnected before walking along to his study.
Ralph looked up as Marnie entered. “That was Karin Fleischer.”
“Back in Germany, presumably?”
“Yes. I got a message from All Saints’ saying she wanted me to contact her. She spoke with Ingrid Hallgarten this morning.”
“Don’t tell me.”
“You guessed. She refused to discuss her father’s work in the war. Fleischer assured her that you had no hidden agenda, but even so …”
“I wonder how hard Karin Fleischer pressed our case.”
“Oh, I think she tried. At one point she actually thought Hallgarten was going to agree, but in the end she reverted to her usual position.”
Marnie flopped into a chair. “That’s another door closed. First Rosemary, now this.”
Ralph steepled his fingers. “I suppose we’ll never know whose remains were in Sarah’s grave.”
“Frankly, Ralph, I don’t think I care any more. Some time soon Angela will arrange Sarah’s reburial and that will be an end to it. We’ll be able to close that file, too.”
Chapter 44
Straight Talking
Danny was assembling her bags at the foot of the attic wall-ladder on Saturday morning when Marnie’s phone began ringing. It was exactly nine o’clock.
A shampoo sachet had burst in Danny’s sponge bag and while Danny finished packing, Marnie was wiping it out with tissues. Her fingers were covered in sticky gel, so Anne picked up the receiver.
“Walker and Co, good morning.” Her face relaxed into a smile. “Hi, Angela. Yes, she’s here. Hang on a sec.”
Marnie pressed the hands-free button with the dry tip of her little finger.
“Angela, good morning. How are things?”
“Good question, Marnie.” Angela’s voice echoed in the room from the speaker on the phone. “I’ve just had Celia bending my ear.”
Marnie sat down. “Really. Lucky you.”
“She was terribly distraught.”
“What’s new?”
“Seriously, Marnie. She was talking about taking legal action … against you.”
“What?”
“That’s what she said.”
“But the decorators did an excellent job. The Court looks like a palace. If she wasn’t happy, she could’ve said so.”
“Sorry? I don’t follow, Marnie.”
“We completed her redec project yesterday. Isn’t that what she’s distraught about?”
Angela sounded baffled. “No. She didn’t mention that to me.”
“What then?”
“She, er, well, it was about Hugh … and you.”
Marnie’s turn to sound baffled. “Run that past me again.”
“She said she’d seen you, Marnie.”
“Doing what? When? I haven’t seen her husband for days, not since he came round here looking for her last week.”
“She didn’t mention that, either.”
“What did she say, Angela?”
“That Hugh had phoned to say he was going to be so late finishing his meeting in London that he’d decided to stay on in a hotel. He was rather vague about which one.”
“When was this?”
“Friday, a week ago. She’s been brooding over it ever since, apparently.”
“That’s the day I had to rush off to Oxford for a dinner.”
“Ah …”
“Ah what?”
“She said she’d just spoken to Hugh on the phone before going round to the village shop. On her way, she saw you dashing past in your car, and put two and two together.”
“She thought I’d raced off to London to make passionate love to her husband in a hotel?”
“Well, yes.”
“Angela you can tell her from me she got part of the story right. I did dash off. I did go to meet a man and we did spend the night making passionate love. But my assignation wasn’t with her husband. It was with my lover. Got it?”
No reply.
“You can tell her that from me.”
Silence.
“Angela? Are you there?”
“I’m here, Marnie.”
“You heard what I said?”
“Yes. It’s just …”
“What?”
“I’m not sure that’s the kind of message lady vicars normally pass on to their parishioners.”
Marnie faltered. “No. I suppose not. But perhaps you could give her an abridged version. I don’t want to speak to her myself.”
“Okay. Will do.”
“Was that everything?”
“Yes. Marnie? Is your phone all right? Your voice sounds rather echoey, as if you’re standing in a tunnel.”
“It’s on hands-free mode. My fingers are sticky.”
“That explains it.”
After they disconnected, Marnie sat thinking for some seconds, shaking her head. Suddenly she became aware of movement, a faint shuffling behind her. She turned to find Danny staring down at her shoes and Anne trying without much success to suppress a smile.
*
On the drive south to Leighton Buzzard Danny sat quietly beside Anne, who was happy to concentrate on her driving. It was only as they saw the first signs to their home town that Danny spoke.
“I’ve had a great time. It’s been nice to stay with you and Marnie and Ralph.”
“It’s been good, despite the odd …” Anne glanced quickly sideways at her friend. “… happening.”
“You seem to have quite a few happenings in your life, Anne.”
Anne grinned. “Yeah.”
Danny hooted. “And Marnie doesn’t exactly mince her words, does she?”
They motored on, both smiling, in silence for a couple of miles before Danny spoke again.
“Anne?”
“I don’t expect so.”
Danny blinked. “Don’t expect what?”
“What you were about to ask me.”
“You don’t expect to see Donovan again?”
“No.”
“You sound awfully definite about that. Is that what you want?”
“What I want doesn’t come into it. Donovan believes any contact could be risky.”
“Who for?”
“All of us. If his enemies come looking for him at Glebe Farm, we could be in danger. At the same time, we could lead his enemies to him.”
“They don’t know where he lives?”
“He’s pretty sure they don’t. In fact, he doesn’t believe they actually know who he is, yet.”
“And you’re worried they might use you to track him down.”
“Maybe. I think there are pretty good reasons for me not being able to see Donovan again.”
“Not ever?”
“Not ever.”
Chapter 45
Journeys
With the departure of the diggers followed by Danny’s return home, a calm descended on Glebe Farm in the last weeks of summer. To Marnie it almost seemed as if the events that had so disrupted their lives had never happened.
A week of showers helped the turfs re
moved by the diggers to blend in with the grass in Glebe Field, and every trace of the excavations faded away. The police tape round the shallow grave site had been removed, and it was virtually impossible to identify the spot where the two navvies had been buried. Marnie kept away from Sarah’s grave, but she knew from Angela that preparations had begun for the reburial.
Celia disappeared from their lives. On the Monday after her redecoration had been completed, Anne sent off the final invoice. She had had misgivings about it, convinced there would be all manner of hassle and disputes. She was proved wrong. The first item she opened in the post on Wednesday was a cheque for the full amount, signed by Hugh Devere. There was no accompanying letter, just the cheque by itself. Anne noticed that the handwriting on the envelope looked different from Hugh’s signature and was in a different colour ink. With a feeling of relief, Anne looped an elastic band round the project file and placed it in the archive for storage.
Ralph spent most days in his study, working on his new book, preparing lectures for a tour of the Far East and honing an article for a journal.
Danny phoned Anne two or three times a week and chatted about her pre-university reading, some clothes she had bought for the coming term and a boy she had met at the local reference library. On one occasion she began asking a question that had been constantly on her mind.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from –”
“No,” Anne had replied abruptly. “And I’m not going to, so you don’t have to ask me again.”
*
A period of unsettled weather blew in from the south-west in September, and the only trip on Sally Ann was to a boatyard south of Milton Keynes for hull blacking. They made the journey in six hours on a bright blustery Sunday. The school holidays had ended and traffic on the canal was reduced. Even so, they had to concentrate all the way in the breezy conditions, especially rounding tight corners and approaching narrow bridge holes.
Marnie, Ralph and Anne found the journey exhilarating, but opinions were divided at the thought that the boat would not be craned out of the water until the Monday morning. Anne had wanted to watch the spectacle and take photos of Sally Ann ‘flying through the air’. Ralph was neutral on this, but Marnie announced that she would be glad not to spectate for the sake of her nerves.