Getaway With Murder

by McNeir, Leo

  “I think you’ll find it’s locked,” said Marnie. “But we can try.” They walked through the lych-gate and up the path to the side porch in the quiet of the morning, to the accompaniment of birdsong. The arched entrance to the porch was fitted with wire mesh grilles. Attached to the mesh at face height was a printed notice, evidently new, welcoming visitors to this “House of God” and asking them to make sure they closed the grilles behind them to keep birds out. They tried the black iron handle on the great studded door. It turned easily and swung open. In a quiet voice Marnie said: “I expect someone’s inside changing flowers, or something.” They went in and stood just inside the door.

  Sunlight was pouring through the windows, splashing colour from the stained glass onto the stone flagged floor and the polished pews. There was a cool edge to the air and not a sound to be heard. Beth walked over to study the list of vicars while Marnie made her way down the centre aisle. There was a musky smell of incense that she remembered from her previous visit. Marnie pointed out the carving on the font and the Burne-Jones window. For several minutes they strolled casually around the ancient building, reading inscriptions on tombs, admiring displays of flowers. On their way out, Beth pulled the purse from her shoulder bag and put money in the offertory box. She picked up the top copy from a neat pile of booklets standing on a table by the door and gave it to Marnie.

  “Souvenir of our visit,” she said. “All the gen on the local history scene. You like that sort of stuff.” Marnie took the booklet.

  “Thanks.” The paper was crisp and white with a line drawing of the church on the cover.

  They passed through the porch, went out onto the path and looked back at the tower. “It’s strange, isn’t it, Marnie. Inside, it’s domestic and cosy. But that tower is almost out of proportion, it’s so, so substantial.”

  Marnie shrugged, squinting up in the sunlight. “Maybe.”

  “Did you notice the gap in the line of vicars?” said Beth. “In the 1640’s there was one who only lasted a year: Jonathan Goldsworthy. And then two years without a vicar at all. Interesting. That booklet will probably explain it all.” Marnie put the booklet in the glove compartment of the car for safe keeping and they set off down the road to inspect Glebe Farm.

  “They certainly don’t waste any time,” said Marnie, standing by the canal at the point where it joined the docking area. She had led Beth round the back of the barns to see how much progress the volunteers from CAN had made. The transformation was complete. No undergrowth obscured the borders of the side channel and the dock was full of water. The soil on both sides had been cut back to reveal a concrete edge, cracked and pitted, but still solid enough to provide a firm bank. At the furthest end the works had revealed a slipway.

  “So this is where Sally will stay when you’re living on board,” said Beth.

  “I think it’ll be okay for the summer. I want to get as much work as possible done on the cottages to make one of them habitable before winter.” They wandered back towards the buildings. One of the barns, the only sound building on the site, now boasted sturdy doors freshly painted black, fastened with a heavy brass padlock. Marnie undid the padlock and led the way inside, quickly pulling the door closed behind them.

  “Hey, it’s dark in …” Beth’s voice faltered in surprise as the barn filled with light. She turned towards Marnie who, with a flourish, gave a slight bow.

  “What do you think of it?” Beth was unprepared for the sight that greeted her. Where she had expected a dirt floor, there was coir matting from wall to wall. Instead of dusty cobwebs on the walls, she saw fresh white emulsion, a year planner, not yet very full, and bright posters depicting parts of the canal network. The empty space she had thought to find was occupied by office furniture, a desk, a phone, filing cabinets, a drawing board, a low table, some chairs, all new. A computer was standing in its box in a corner. The dark interior had been transformed by lighting from two tracks of spotlights.

  “Welcome to the offices, or rather office, of Walker and Co.”

  “Marnie, it’s great! You must have been working like a slave to get all this done.”

  “Actually, it didn’t take long. While the CAN people were working on the docking area, I came in here and got the office commissioned. I filled the holes in the concrete to make the floor level and the rest was just cleaning and painting. No trouble at all. The electricians only took two days to put the light and power in.”

  “Do you always have to work with all the lights on?”

  “I’m having a window put in that wall and behind the doors I’m having glazing units from floor to ceiling, with a glazed door built in. They’re being made at the moment. When I’m working here, the new barn doors will fold right back like shutters. It’ll give loads of light. When I stop work, I can close the barn doors to make the place secure.”

  “It’s brilliant. What’s that over there?” Beth pointed to a wooden ladder attached to the end wall, leading up to an opening in the roof.

  “That was already here. I’ve just repaired and varnished it. It goes to the hayloft above. I’ve cleaned it all out and it has a power socket. I’m not sure what I’ll use it for, but I thought I might as well get it decent while I was working on the rest.”

  “You know, Marnie. I think you’re going to make a go of this. I know I’ve sounded a little doubtful on occasion …” Marnie pulled a face “… but I really do believe that if anyone can make this work, you can. I’m totally convinced about that.”

  “Thanks, Beth. And I’ll do everything I can to make it work. If it kills me.” At that she laughed and pulled a thermos flask from her bag. “Let’s drink to it. Only coffee, I’m afraid.”

  They garaged the Rover in one of the derelict barns and Beth drove them back to Marnie’s empty flat to collect Dolly before setting off on Sally Ann. The telephone rang eerily on the living room floor. Marnie’s footsteps echoed as she walked across the room to pick it up.

  “Shouldn’t you be studying, young lady?” Marnie’s tone was mock reproof.

  “I’m having what my mum calls a ‘Marnie break’. Yes, honestly. It’s to stop my head getting overloaded. Anyway, I’m over the worst of it now. There’s only RE and the last French paper, then … freedom!”

  “How have they been so far?”

  “Not bad. Bit of an anti-climax really. I was very nervous on the first day. Didn’t know what to expect, but the papers weren’t so different from the mocks and I was lucky with the geometry. Anyway, how about you? All ready for your big move next week?”

  “Actually, it’s today.”

  “Today? I, I thought you were setting off on Thursday the fifteenth.” Marnie explained about Beth’s offer to share the journey on Sally Ann. Anne made no reply.

  “Anne? Are you there?”

  “Oh, yes. I just thought you’d be coming through this way by about Saturday. I thought I might see you as you passed, have a chat, that kind of thing. I wondered if I could help with the move, get your office ready.”

  “That’s nice of you. What if I give you a ring after your exams are finished and we fix something up?” They agreed on this and after Marnie hung up she sat for a few seconds looking at the phone. It rang again.

  “Did you forget something?”

  “Hallo, Marnie. You were expecting someone else again?”

  “Ralph, hallo. Sorry, I was talking to a friend and had just put the phone down. How are you? Presumably back from your travels?”

  “Yes. I got back last night. I just thought I’d ring so that we could catch up on each other’s news. Your move is imminent.”

  “Immediate, in fact.” Marnie gave Ralph the details, plus her phone number at Glebe Farm and the number of her new mobile. So many new things. A fresh start. It seemed that they had always been having this conversation.

  “It must be very exciting for you, Marnie. I shall be thinking of you. Good luck.”

  “More than just thinking, I hope. Keep in touch.” It was only after s
he had put the phone down on the last conversation in her flat, the last conversation of her old life, that Marnie remembered Ralph saying he wanted them to catch up on each other’s news. She had spoken only of her news and wished she could give a quick ring to ask for his. For once, the Filofax containing Ralph’s phone number was not with her and she had to postpone that conversation for another time. She hoped there would be another time.

  “Do you usually go into meditation like that after every phone call?” Marnie had almost forgotten that Beth was there. “Are you willing it to ring again? Is that your system? You stare at the phone to get people to call you?”

  “It’s just that Ralph said he had some news and I didn’t give him a chance to tell me what it was. All I did was go on about myself. I can’t bear those people who see the whole world as revolving around their life, like some big ego trip.”

  “I’m sure he can cope with that, Marnie. He’s been around.” Marnie was about to protest that that was hardly the point, when Beth raised a hand. “Anyway, now it’s time to be going. Do you want to take one last look round the flat, say good-bye and all that?” Marnie leapt to her feet, slung the kitbag over her shoulder, picked up the holdall and Dolly and headed for the door.

  “Don’t look back,” she said.

  *

  Beth drove Marnie to Little Venice with Dolly and the kitbag. They swung the boat on its nose to face west and while Marnie unpacked, Beth set off home. They would converge within the hour on the supermarket beside the canal at Kensal Green, Marnie on Sally Ann, Beth on a double-decker bus. They met in the supermarket as Marnie reached the checkout. Outside, they dumped the bags on Sally Ann’s deck and Marnie opened up. Beth was smiling.

  “You know, Marnie, this is like an adventure. Do you remember Guide camp when we were kids? You were always the first to be ready. Even in those days you had everything organised, and everybody.” As Beth spoke, Marnie picked up some of the bags and pulled open the cabin doors with her foot.

  “Nonsense. I’m not really like that.” She indicated the remaining bags with a nod of the head. “You should be able to manage those. Follow me.”

  Beth was not surprised at what she found on board. There was an absence of clutter. Clothes, baggage and spare bedding had been put away. Only the new provisions occupied the workbench in the galley and they were disappearing fast into storage cupboards. There was a sense of purpose about the boat. Marnie had set up her chart table on the shelf at the foot of the bed. On the wall beside the cabin steps, she had fitted a shelf like a wooden pocket into which the cruising guide would be put, standing upright when not immediately required. There was space for two or three pencils, a spiral bound notebook and a tube of transparent plastic.

  “What’s this plastic thing, Marnie?” Marnie put her head round the divider in the galley.

  “A cover for the cruising guide, to keep it dry in wet weather.”

  Beth looked astonished. “Wet weather? I’d never take the boat out in wet weather,” she said.

  “Then you’d better pray for it to stay dry,” said Marnie, returning to her task, with Dolly rubbing her flank against the backs of her legs.

  Beth did not say whether she had prayed for dry weather, but it remained fine for the whole journey. Sally Ann behaved impeccably and they shared the workload by alternating at locks. Marnie was surprised that Beth was not more adept at handling the boat, initially finding it difficult to steer her in a straight line and tending to wander off towards the bank. At locks she was no more expert, and checked the order of the operation with Marnie each time they made their approach and she stood, windlass in hand, ready to jump onto the bank.

  But Beth was impressed with Marnie’s skill and judgment, her handling of the boat so that it ran on rails hidden beneath the surface, her efficiency at the locks, always seeming to be one move ahead. Gradually, under Marnie’s guidance and example, Beth found herself steering down the middle of the channel without deviation.

  Very soon, locks too became a matter of routine. Beth was surprised to discover that Marnie was markedly stronger than she was. One day, straining with the windlass at a stiff paddle, Beth had to signal Marnie to come and help her. She waited, panting with effort, while Marnie jogged along the towpath, convinced that they would have to work the lock together. Marnie had other ideas and sent Beth back to bring up Sally Ann. Looking over her shoulder, Beth saw Marnie steadily turning the handle with apparent ease. Convinced that she was not doing her full share of the work, Beth offered to treat Marnie to a meal that evening in one of the pubs along their route.

  *

  “This one’ll do fine,” said Beth in the early evening, emerging from a pub with a new signboard – The Old Wharf – and fresh paint on the windows. “It’s really nice inside. Have you eaten here before?”

  Marnie gave the question some thought. “No. Not as far as I remember.”

  They found bollards by the towpath, fed Dolly and made their way inside, ordering white wine spritzers, with herb omelettes accompanied by a French Farmer’s Salad.

  “This is really good,” said Beth.

  “Nice omelette,” agreed Marnie. “Not too heavy. I remember staying at a little farm in Normandy years ago and the farmer’s wife just stirred the mixture lightly with a knife.”

  “Not just the omelette,” said Beth. “The ambience, the decor, the whole thing is lovely. It’s what eating out should be like.”

  “Everything all right?” It was the young woman who had served the meal.

  “Fine,” said Beth. The woman flashed a glance at Marnie before returning to the bar. The two sisters ate in silence for a minute and Beth was about to speak when they were interrupted by a man’s voice.

  “Sheila was right!” They looked up to see a round-faced man in shirt sleeves beaming at them or, more precisely, beaming at Marnie. He shook her hand. “This is a nice surprise, Marnie. Remember me, Bert Pargetter? What do you think of it?”

  “I think it’s turned out all right,” said Marnie. Beth looked puzzled and Marnie introduced her sister to the pub manager.

  “We think Marnie’s done a fantastic job on this place.” The colour scheme was muted blues and greens, lightened by cream. Some walls were covered in murals featuring plans of locks and bridges. Others were plain with clusters of prints and drawings. Here and there a brass lamp or nameplate gleamed and there was a warm glow of polished wood.

  “I’m glad you’re satisfied,” said Marnie.

  “More than satisfied, delighted! Look, I mustn’t interrupt your meal, but I wanted to say hallo. I hope everything’s okay.”

  “More than okay,” said Beth.

  “Good, good. And it’s on the house.” The sisters protested, but the manager shook his head. “Enjoy your meal.” He vanished as quickly as he had come.

  “I thought you said you hadn’t been here before,” said Beth.

  “I hadn’t eaten here before. In fact, I hadn’t even been here since the work was finished. Faye came up to check things over while I was at another meeting. Handing over my job has been a rush at times. The place only re-opened last week.”

  “So this is the new image,” said Beth looking round. “No wonder they wanted to keep you on the contract. Are you pleased with how it’s turned out?”

  “It’s the prototype. I’ve tried to keep it uncluttered, not too many pictures. I only wonder how the customers will find it.”

  “You always did think boat people were messy,” said Beth.

  “Well, this isn’t exactly folksy. And it is their pub, after all. They’re the ones who have to feel at home in it. We’ll just have to wait and see how people react.” The young woman returned to remove their plates and brought them the menu.

  “Would you like a dessert?” They hesitated. “Bert says you must have whatever you want.” They settled for coffee. When it arrived, Marnie asked how the new style was being received by the customers. “Well, it’s quite interesting actually. We’re finding that more pe
ople are coming in to eat with children, people from the boats. They take one look and just bring the whole family without asking if it’s allowed.”

  When they had finished, the sisters strolled along the towpath in the pale evening light. As they walked, they spontaneously linked arms, something they had not done since their teens. For a few minutes they sauntered in silence. The air was mild and still, scented with the greenery of early summer and the cool smell of the water. In front of them lay only a pastoral landscape, little changed since the canal was built two centuries ago, rolling countryside with the Chiltern Hills as a backdrop.

  “I know it’s silly, but I can’t help feeling what an adventure this is,” said Beth. “You make things happen, Marnie, and you just seem to take it all in your stride. Being with you on this trip makes me see how it all somehow makes sense.” They turned back to the boat, neither of them ready for the evening to come to an end.

  “Beth? I don’t suppose you feel like going on a bit further? It’s going to stay light for a while yet.”

  They made Sally Ann ready and set off across the mirror-smooth surface into mid-channel, picking up cruising speed as they left the last of the moored boats behind them. Ahead, they faced a sequence of locks rising up to the Tring summit and they decided to go as far as they could while the light lasted. Marnie estimated about fifteen minutes to the first lock.

  “How long shall we keep going?” said Beth over the sound of the engine thumping below their feet.

  “Let’s see how it goes. We can get through a few locks at least. The summit’s probably too far to reach before dark.” The sky was turning from light blue to shades of grey and pink as the sun dipped towards the horizon away to their left. Marnie guessed her sister would be feeling the effects of the exercise and fresh air. “If you’re happy to do the steering, I’ve got one or two jobs to see to,” she said. “Oh, and I’ll do the locks on this stretch.” Before Beth could react, Marnie set off along the gunwale and checked the plank, boat-hook and pole stacked in the middle of the roof. She made her way up to the cratch and rolled down the side curtains to enclose it for the night. The first lock came into view as she stepped nimbly back onto the deck and took hold of the windlass.