‘The kitchen will do just fine.’
Hattie followed her neighbour through the house and as Marjorie fussed about preparing coffee, Hattie looked around. It seemed like only yesterday that she’d stood in this room and admired the pale lime wood units and work surfaces of matching grey marble. She looked out beyond the conservatory, where the willow tree from her garden still hung heavy and low over Marjorie’s fence. Alf had never cut it back and as Hattie admired the outlook, she could understand why her handyman had let nature take its course. Marjorie’s garden was the jewel in Lover’s Lane, a wonderful place of carefully matured plants with a long lazy lawn to lounge and relax.
‘We could sit outside it you prefer?’ Marjorie stood alongside Hattie. ‘The garden is so lovely at this time of year, just before the trees start their autumn journey.’ She smiled as she admired the view.
‘You must work very hard to keep it in such good order.’
‘I do, especially now that I don’t have any help. But I love this house and all the effort is worth it.’
Hattie turned. She hadn’t the heart to tell Marjorie that unless she found a way to pay her mortgage, agents would soon be erecting a “For Sale” sign on the driveway. The news that she was about to receive wasn’t going to be good and any hope that Marjorie had of Barry’s life insurance paying out was now long gone.
‘Grab a pew and tell me what you’ve found out.’ Marjorie poured them both a cup of coffee and, taking a seat at the kitchen table, looked expectantly at Hattie.
Hattie paused, then looked at her watch.
The doorbell rang and Marjorie looked annoyed. ‘Who on earth can that be?’ she said and went to answer it.
Hattie heard raised voices. She sipped her coffee and waited and in moments Marjorie had returned. Behind her, Camilla walked slowly into the kitchen.
‘Have a seat, ladies,’ Hattie said as she watched the two women. ‘Marjorie, I know that you’re surprised that Camilla has joined us, but I invited her.’ Hattie paused. ‘Make yourselves comfortable; what I have to say concerns you both.’
Camilla walked slowly to a chair and, sitting down beside Marjorie, held up her hands in a defensive gesture. ‘Don’t have a go at me, Marjorie; I have no idea why I’ve been asked here.’
‘Oh, but I think you do.’ Hattie stood up. She placed her hands in the pockets of her dress. ‘Marjorie, do you remember the events on the night before Barry was found?’
‘Yes, he went to the pub. Reggie said at the inquest that Barry was there and seemed very subdued.’
Marjorie’s eyes were misty. ‘I never saw him again.’
‘Did you wonder why he didn’t come home?’
‘Yes, of course I did,’ Marjorie said. ‘My husband didn’t make a habit of staying out all night. I was worried to death.’
It was an unfortunate phrase to use, Hattie thought as she continued. ‘And Barry was found the following
afternoon in the holly wood.’
‘Yes, we know all this.’
‘Did you know where he went before he got to the pub?’
‘No? I thought he went straight there.’
Hattie turned to Camilla and raised her eyebrows. ‘Would you like to tell Marjorie what you told me, last night?’
Camilla looked uncomfortable and bowed her head as she began to speak. ‘Dad came to see me.’
‘What?’ Marjorie exclaimed, but Hattie held her hand up and indicated that Camilla should continue.
‘I’d been drinking,’ Camilla said. ‘I was drowning my sorrows after my first driving offence and although I was pleased to see him, I wasn’t pleased with the reason for his visit.’
‘What on earth are you suggesting?’ Marjorie sat forward and poked Camilla’s arm.
‘Marjorie, if you don’t let Camilla continue, I will have no choice to leave and you can drag this information out of Camilla yourself.’
Marjorie sat back and bit on her lip.
‘You won’t like it,’ Camilla said and stared at her stepmother for several moments. ‘He’d come to tell me that he wished that he’d never left my mother.’ She stared at Marjorie, who appeared astonished. ‘He said that you put too much financial pressure on him and were making his life a misery.’ Camilla shrugged her shoulders and sighed. ‘He said that Helen had been easier to live with and that she didn’t spend so much money. That’s all.’
‘But that’s not all, is it, Camilla?’ Hattie said. She took her hands out of her pockets and leaned on the table, staring hard at the girl. ‘What did you tell him?’
‘I didn’t tell him anything!’
‘What did you tell Barry about Helen that upset him so much?’
Camilla’s nostrils flared and her face was red. ‘I was drunk, but I only told him the truth!’
‘And what was the truth?’ Hattie persisted.
‘She was a whore!’ Camilla suddenly spat out. ‘My mother, the precious Helen, was a whore!’
Hattie let the words register before she explained to Marjorie, ‘Helen had been having an affair with John Hargreaves.’
‘Oh no,’ Marjorie said.
‘But Camilla, why did Helen admit that information to you?’ Hattie asked.
Camilla held her head in her hands. She’d begun to cry and although Hattie was tempted to reach around the table and comfort the girl, she stayed still and waited. Eventually, between sobs, Camilla began to speak.
‘I went to see her, it was the Saturday morning, on the day of her death, about ten o’clock and I’d been drinking. I was upset but I had no idea that she would kill herself later that day.’ Camilla was emphatic.
‘Why were you upset?’ Marjorie asked.
‘I was pregnant,’ Camilla began. ‘John was the father and I thought that he loved me.’ She let the words sink in and stifled a sob. ‘But I was wrong, he wanted me to have an abortion. So I did.’ She looked up and turned red-rimmed eyes towards Marjorie. ‘He went away when I had the abortion and I was distraught, terribly unhappy. I told my mother because I thought she would comfort me, but I never expected her to tell me that she’d been having an affair with him too!’
‘Go on,’ Hattie spoke softly. ‘What happened next?’
‘We argued. Helen was furious with me, and I with her. It seems that he’d promised both of us that he’d leave Venetia. I stormed out but when I’d calmed down and sobered up, several hours later, it was late afternoon. I went back to her house. I wanted to apologise.’
‘Where was Helen?’
‘I let myself in the front door, I had a key, but she wasn’t in.’
‘What did you find?’
‘There was a letter addressed to Barry on the hall table. I opened it and read it.’
‘My God,’ Marjorie whispered, ‘a suicide note?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did you do with it?’ Hattie asked.
‘I put it in my pocket and left, but as I walked down the drive, I heard a car engine running and knew that
Helen was in the garage.’
‘What happened next?’
‘I was afraid, I didn’t know if she was dead, but I had a feeling that there was a good chance that she’d killed herself and I didn’t want to find out. I stumbled into the village, called a taxi and went home. The next day, the police arrived and told me that my mother was dead.’
‘What happened to the letter and why didn’t you say anything?’ Hattie leaned back and folded her arms. She knew the answer but wanted Camilla to tell Marjorie.
‘I didn’t want the truth to come out about John. Helen had detailed everything in her letter. If Helen’s letter had been found, everyone would know the truth, I would be a laughing stock and wouldn’t have a hope in hell of ever getting back with John. So, I destroyed the letter.’
‘You wanted to get back with him?’ Marjorie was aghast.
‘Oh, I know all about John Hargreaves,’ Camilla said, ‘he thinks he can balance all his businesses and affairs, but I’ve been doing h
is books for years and could topple him.’ She looked from Marjorie to Hattie. ‘I wanted a lump sum, and my house, and I was determined to get it.’ She smiled. ‘So I played the game and let him think that I still loved him and he told me that I’d get what I wanted but after my stupid driving offence, for the second time, he backed off and said that as I would be ending up in prison, there was no point in continuing our relationship.’
Hattie walked away. She stood in the conservatory and looked out at the garden. She didn’t think that Camilla was telling the whole truth and felt that, in time, there would be more to come.
But for the moment, Marjorie had her answer.
Barry’s death was indeed suicide. When he found out that his ex-wife and daughter had both been having an affair with his boss, and Camilla had become pregnant, it had been almost too much to bear. But the fact that Camilla had more or less witnessed Helen’s death and could perhaps have prevented it had been too much for Barry. It was so shameful, that sooner than shop his only daughter to the police, he took his own life.
Marjorie had come into the conservatory and stood by Hattie’s side. ‘How did you find all this out?’ she asked.
‘Oh, I just put two and two together.’
It hadn’t been difficult for Hattie to get the truth from Camilla, the previous evening. Camilla had also told Hattie that the abortion was discreet and carried out in a private clinic.
‘So, what will you do with this information?’ Camilla had joined them. She’d wiped her eyes and looked anxious.
‘I think that for now, we’ll let sleeping dogs lie,’ Marjorie said quietly. ‘Enough people have already been hurt.’
‘Aye, it might not be a such a bad idea to let a bit of water go under the bridge,’ Hattie said. She turned to Camilla. ‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’
Camilla sighed. ‘I’m going back to the office tomorrow, but for now I’m going home, my court case is only a few days away and I need to prepare.’
Marjorie and Hattie stood on the driveway of Holly House and watched Camilla drive away. The car moved slowly and soberly, with caution.
‘I think we could both do with a stiff drink,’ Marjorie said and headed back to the kitchen.
‘So, how do you really feel?’ Hattie asked. ‘Surely you must be furious with her?’
‘To be honest, I feel numb.’ Marjorie sighed. ‘I thought Barry was happy with me but if what Camilla says is true, he very clearly wasn’t, which just shows how little I really know about anything. Or my husband.’ She took a sip of her drink.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that.’ Hattie frowned.
‘On the other hand,’ Marjorie began to smile, ‘what I do know is that a very large sum of money has been deposited in my account, which means I can keep Holly House.’
‘Eh?’ Hattie’s eyes were wide. ‘Who would be so generous?’
‘The benefactor’s name is on my bank statement and it seems that it’s someone whom I never thought would be so munificent.’
‘Hargreaves?’ Hattie asked.
‘Hargreaves,’ Marjorie replied.
35
Penny Yarwood lay on the sagging couch in the open-plan lounge of the vicarage and sipped a mug of warm chicken soup. Beside her, in a battered old Moses basket, her baby son slept on his back. His arms were aloft, and Penny reached down to slip her little finger into his open hand and watched as he curled around it. She smiled a whimsical smile of wonder at the newness of her son; he looked so perfect as he lay quietly cooing in his sleep.
Despite his early arrival into the world, the child was doing well.
Outside in the garden, Josh and Hannah were playing with Bertie, throwing an old ball across the grass for the dog to retrieve; they squealed with laughter as he trundled to and fro, tossing it out of their reach then pouncing down and seizing it. Two other children played close by, one swinging on a rope dangling from an apple tree, whilst the other ran around in circles with a stick.
‘I’m glad to see that you’ve got an appetite, that little fella needs lots of nourishment,’ a woman called out as she busied herself in Penny’s kitchen. ‘There’s plenty of cake, when you’re ready.’ Jill, from the sit-knit-and-chit group, was in full flow, togged out as a mobile cleaning machine, in apron, hairnet and rubber gloves, she’d set to and every surface within her radar was gleaming. ‘I’ll give the little ones their tea; my two scallywags will be yelling for food anytime now.’
Penny yawned. She wished that these early days, post-delivery, would continue forever and that she could always be waited on hand and foot. Since the arrival of young Archie, the good parishioners had rallied round to help Penny and her family, enabling Penny to rest and recuperate after the birth.
A heavy, hammer-like knocking came from the hallway and Jill marched past. ‘More visitors,’ she said, waving a fluffy dusting wand.
Hattie appeared in the hallway then stepped into the room. On her way to the vicarage, she’d stopped at the convenience stores and bought a slab of cherry cake which, Joan had assured her, was Penny’s favourite. Jill took the cake from Hattie’s hands and disappeared into the kitchen.
‘Good morning, young mum.’ Hattie smiled. ‘How are you and the little one?’
‘Hello, Hattie.’ Penny placed her mug on a side table and sat up. ‘I’m alright and Archie is doing very well, thanks to you.’
‘Oh, I didn’t do anything, you’ve Joan and Arnie to thank for bringing him into the world.’ She peeked into the Moses basket. ‘You’ve named him Archie? That’s a lovely name.’ Hattie stared at the infant. It was clear that baby Archie took after his father. The child had Roger’s handsome features and his skin was smooth and soft.
‘Coffee and cake,’ Jill called out and pushed a tea trolley into the room. The upper shelf rattled with cups and the lower tier was laden with cake. Hattie noticed a plate of stale looking fancies, rock buns and cherry cake.
‘Help yourself,’ Jill said, waving her wand over every surface as she went back to the kitchen.
Archie was beginning to wake. He made chortling sounds as his tiny body wriggled free of a waffle blanket.
‘May I?’ Hattie asked, and Penny, who was tucking into cake, nodded.
Hattie lifted the tiny body and cradled him in the crook of her arm. Her fingers stroked his soft downy head and she felt her heart melt when the baby opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘Oh, he’s beautiful,’ she whispered. She felt a lump in her throat and tears pricked at her eyes. ‘Hello, little Archie.’ She remembered her own two sons at this age and smiled. ‘Make the most of him,’ she said to Penny, ‘the years fly and in the blink of an eye, he’ll be gone.’
‘Have you got children?’ Penny asked.
‘Two lovely boys, grown men now,’ Hattie said proudly, ‘both married. One in the army in Germany and the other living down under with his Australian wife.’
‘Do you visit them?’ Penny wiped crumbs from her mouth and reached out for a rock bun.
‘Aye, I went to Australia last year, with my dear Hugo.’ Hattie sighed. ‘And we had a week in Germany too, but it’s time I went again.’ She stared at the baby.
‘Every moment is precious.’ Penny sat up.
She fiddled with cushions supporting her back and pulled on an old eiderdown that covered her legs. ‘Roger and I wanted to ask you something,’ she said. ‘I had hoped Roger would be here but he apologies because he had to go out.’
Avoiding me, no doubt, Hattie thought.
‘We wondered if you would like to be Archie’s godmother?’
Hattie was staggered. She looked from Penny to the baby and back again and, as she digested Penny’s words, she bounced on her toes and beamed. ‘I would be absolutely honoured to be God mum to this little one.’
‘That’s great, I expect he’ll be christened soon, Roger doesn’t like to delay things like that.’ Archie had become fidgety and Penny reached out her arms. ‘Hand him over, he’s hungry,’ she said and, adjusting her nightie, placed the b
aby on her breast.
Penny hummed as the baby suckled and Hattie, feeling hungry herself, poured a coffee and sat down. She reached for a cake and was about to take a bite, when Penny suddenly announced, ‘I expect you’re wondering why Camilla is sleeping with Roger?’ Hattie nearly spat her Fancy across the room.
Penny adjusted her clothing and, lifting Archie to her shoulder, began to pat his back. ‘Roger has a very high sex drive and he’s an attractive man,’ she said, quite matter of fact. ‘Obviously, with my pregnancy, I have been unable to fulfil his needs.’
‘So, Camilla services your husband while you’re indisposed?’
‘I know that Camilla must have lovers, but if you want to put it like that,’ Penny said, ‘at least I now know where Roger is when his urges get the better of him. He’ll return to me as soon as sex is possible, following my pregnancy.’
‘But what about the sanctity of marriage and the bible teachings that marriage should be kept pure?’ Hattie wracked her brains and remembered one of the Ten Commandments. ‘You shall not commit adultery.’
‘But we have a very modern marriage and a man has his needs,’ Penny said with a smile, ‘the Lord understands.’
Hattie thought that the Lord was probably doing a deal with the Devil and at that very moment signing the paperwork to send Roger straight to hell, when he eventually crawled his way up the golden staircase. What on earth was with these young girls? Camilla clearly had a fetish for the older man, if Jailbait John and Randy Roger were examples of her preferences. Hattie wondered what the church would make of it all and what would the archbishop say?
But as she watched Penny settle her baby back to sleep, Hattie decided that she wasn’t in a position to judge. She shrugged her shoulders and stood up.
‘Well, as much as I’d like to stay here to chat and cuddle the little one, I must be on my way,’ Hattie said, ‘don’t get up, I’ll just let Jill know that I’m off.’
She stepped into the kitchen, where Jill had placed the children side-by-side on a wooden pew, with a plank-like length of wood in use as a table. Smothered in layers of polythene to protect their clothes from spills, they tucked into plates of nutritious vegetables. ‘I’ll be off,’ Hattie said and, with a wave and a smile to Penny, turned and walked down the hallway.
Hattie Goes to Hollywood: Shenanigans, fun & intrigue in a new mystery series! Page 29