Once Too Often

by Dorothy Simpson

  ‘It’s all over bar the shouting.’

  ‘Already! Luke! Well done! You must be delighted.’ She gave him a long look. ‘No? Not delighted?’

  ‘Well, I’m pleased it’s over, yes, of course. But it was all a bit of a letdown really, a lot of work to no good purpose. It turned out to be an accident after all.’

  ‘Really?’

  Now it was Thanet’s turn to go to the bathroom and as soon as he returned she said, ‘So what happened? This week’s been so hectic we’ve hardly had a chance to talk about it.’

  ‘What stage was I at last time we discussed it?’

  Joan got into bed, plumped up the pillows behind her and leaned back against them, obviously settling down for a long talk. ‘You were asking me about Kevin and Snippers. You thought he might be involved.’

  ‘That seems ages ago!’ Thanet eyed his morning coat uneasily as he undressed. He was going to feel so self-conscious wearing it that he’d never be able to act naturally.

  ‘It was the night before Bridget came home. Wednesday, then.’

  ‘Only the day before yesterday! Such a lot has happened since then.’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Joan.

  ‘You don’t want to hear this now, surely. You must be exhausted.’

  ‘I’m wide awake, as a matter of fact.’

  And Thanet had to admit, she looked it.

  ‘I’m over stimulated, probably. And there’s no point in trying to go to sleep until everyone has settled down. I just hope they won’t be too late getting to bed. Bridget needs her beauty sleep. No, a bed-time story is just what I need to stop me worrying about all the things that might go wrong tomorrow.’

  ‘Nothing’s going to go wrong,’ said Thanet. ‘And if it does, well, it’ll just go down in the annals of the Thanet family as something amusing that happened at Bridget’s wedding.’

  ‘So,’ she said. ‘Go on. Begin, as they say, at the beginning. What made you suspect it might not be an accident in the first place?’

  Thanet got into bed beside her and put his arm around her. She settled her head into the hollow of his shoulder.

  ‘Two things really.’ And he told her about the phone call and the open door, went on to explain how to begin with he had naturally suspected first Jessica’s husband then her lover. ‘But then we found that neither of them could have made that phone call. Believe it or not, they actually alibied each other!’

  She laughed. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes.’ Thanet explained about the Ogilvys’ visit to the Harrow, the landlord’s testimony that he had seen Desmond Manifest open the door as if to come in, then change his mind when he saw them. ‘And that was only three or four minutes after the phone call – which was made from Jessica’s number, incidentally. There was no way Manifest could have got to the pub in that space of time, it’s a good ten minutes’ walk. And he did walk, we checked.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘That didn’t let either of them off the hook as far as Jessica’s death was concerned, of course. Ogilvy could have killed her before going to the pub and her husband could easily have slipped back to the house after Ogilvy had left. But meanwhile I got sidetracked by Kevin. He’d borrowed his father’s car that night and it had been seen parked near Jessica’s house. He had admitted driving to Charthurst that evening – to go for a country walk, he said!’

  ‘Excuses don’t come much thinner than that!’

  ‘Quite. Anyway, we already knew that he was adopted – his mother told us so the first time we interviewed her. And I’d been puzzled why Jessica, who’d been such a promising student and had been expected to stay on at school and even go to university, had left for no apparent reason at sixteen and had instead gone off to live with an aunt in Bristol. Then I realised that both Jessica and Kevin had red hair –’

  ‘So you jumped to the conclusion that he was her illegitimate child, that he had traced her, and that this was why he had been watching her – to pluck up the courage to approach her. And, presumably, that he had done so on the night she died and it had all gone disastrously wrong.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘All seems quite logical to me.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. And at first it seemed I was right. I went to see Bernard Covin, her brother-in-law, and he confirmed that yes, she had had a baby, a boy, and it had been put up for adoption. But as it turned out, I was wrong. When we checked we found that Kevin had already traced his natural mother, who had refused to have anything to do with him. Kevin’s interest in Jessica had been precisely what we originally thought it was, a rather unhealthy obsession with her.’ And Thanet told Joan about the scrapbook they had found in the loft above the boy’s bedroom.

  Joan made a little moue of distaste and said, ‘So it had all been a waste of time.’

  ‘Well, yes and no. I was mortified at the time, that I’d been so convinced I was on the right track.’ He grinned. ‘Actually, it served me right, for thinking I’d been so clever.’

  ‘Nonsense, darling. You’re always too ready to put yourself down, if you ask me.’

  ‘You’re biased,’ said Thanet, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. ‘Anyway, as it turned out, although I was wrong about Kevin being Jessica’s son, I was in fact still heading in the right direction. When we confronted Kevin with the scrapbook, in order to get himself off the hook he told us he’d seen a man coming out of Jessica’s house around about the time she died.’

  ‘And you believed him? He wasn’t just trying to save his own skin?’

  ‘Mike and I both thought he was telling the truth.’

  ‘Did he know who the man was?’

  ‘Bernard Covin.’

  ‘Aha! The brother-in-law. The plot thickens!’

  ‘Precisely. Now there were already several things that puzzled me about Covin. We knew he had rung Jessica that evening. According to him, he had supper with his daughter Karen, Jessica’s niece, who was going back to Reading that evening for the start of the new term –’

  ‘At the university, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Like Ben. I wonder if they know each other? Oh, sorry. Go on. Yes, she was going back to Reading that evening . . .’

  ‘And she’d asked him to give her aunt a ring to apologise for not having managed to get over to say goodbye to her before she left’

  Joan frowned. ‘Strange.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. But even more strange was the fact that when he got Jessica’s answerphone he actually went over straight away to see her. We didn’t discover this at first. He told us he’d stayed in watching television all evening. We believed him because we knew Karen had borrowed his car. Stupid of me.’

  ‘So how did he get there?’

  ‘Took one of the farm vehicles, of course. Anyway, when Kevin told us he’d seen Covin come out of Jessica’s house I just couldn’t stop puzzling away at why? Why ring Jessica immediately after Karen left, as if the matter was urgent, and then why go rushing over when he couldn’t get a reply? Unless something had happened between him and Karen at supper that evening.’

  ‘Some kind of argument, you mean?’

  ‘I didn’t know. Just some kind of upset. But if there had been, I thought that might explain something else which had puzzled me – why Karen had driven herself back to Reading, in her father’s car.’

  ‘You mean you’d have expected him to drive her?’

  ‘Yes. Wouldn’t you? Unless she had a car of her own, that is. But she hasn’t.’

  ‘That was odd, I agree.’

  ‘But if they’d had a row . . .’

  ‘Yes, I see. She might have gone rushing off on impulse.’

  ‘Exactly. In which case, I had to ask myself what the row could have been about?’

  ‘And as he immediately rang Jessica and then went dashing off to see her, you couldn’t help thinking there must have been some connection.’

  ‘You should have joined the police force, darling.’

  ‘I
doubt it. I still can’t see what the connection might be.’

  ‘That’s because you don’t know all the facts. But I did, and that was the point at which I began to put two and two together. I already knew Jessica’s sister had tried to conceive for years before succeeding. I also knew that Jessica had had a baby while staying with an aunt in Bristol. Then I learned that while she was away her sister had gone to stay with the same aunt – who was supposedly ill – and that in fact the timing of the two births had coincided.’

  ‘I see now! You’re saying that Jessica’s sister didn’t really have a baby at all, that Karen Covin is Jessica’s daughter and that Covin lied to you about the baby’s sex. To put you off the scent, presumably. But why?’

  ‘The adoption was an informal arrangement. And – this was the point – Karen had never been told any of this. In fact, I discovered this afternoon that Jessica only agreed not to have an abortion, but to have the baby and let her sister bring it up, if the Covins swore to secrecy. That was why they had to mount such an elaborate charade – they not only had to get Jessica out of the area so no one would suspect she was pregnant, but Madge too when her supposed baby was due. There was no way they could have got away with it otherwise.’

  ‘Because of hospital records, health visitors and midwife’s visits after the birth, you mean.’

  ‘That’s right. In fact, Madge had to stay away until some weeks after the baby was born while Covin changed his job and moved to a different area.’

  ‘Because if they’d stayed in the same place their doctor and local midwife would have wondered why they’d never had an inkling of Madge’s pregnancy.’

  ‘Quite. I imagine they claimed their health records had been lost in the move, so that they could make a fresh start with no questions asked.’

  ‘Very ingenious.’

  ‘And it worked. For twenty years.’

  The front door closed quietly downstairs and a moment or two later cars started up and were driven away. Shortly afterwards there were whispers on the stairs, stealthy movements on the landing.

  Joan glanced at the clock. Ten to twelve. ‘Not too bad, I suppose. And they are trying to be quiet, bless them. So,’ she said, ‘what went wrong? Are you suggesting that the upset over supper was because Covin finally told Karen she was adopted? But why on earth should he choose that particular evening? I mean, just before she was due to go back to university for the start of a new term was hardly the best timing, was it?’

  ‘That’s what I simply couldn’t understand. Until Karen herself told me. And this was really the key to the whole puzzle. Apparently she wanted to apply for a passport, and needed her birth certificate.’

  ‘Aaah.’

  ‘She’d been trying to get her father to hand it over for months, but he kept making excuses. So finally she told him not to bother. She said she was fed up with waiting and she would send away for a copy.’

  ‘So then he had to tell her. He wouldn’t have wanted her to find out when he wasn’t around to explain. Not surprising she was upset. Is he fond of her?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘I may be dim, but I still don’t understand why it was so important for him to go and see Jessica that evening. What did he say, when you told him you had a witness who’d seen him coming out of her house that night?’Joan yawned. Her eyelids were beginning to droop.

  ‘He confessed.’

  ‘What? Just like that?’

  ‘Just like that.’

  ‘He actually admitted he’d pushed her down the stairs?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Well. I’m amazed. And confused. I thought you said it was an accident.’ She eased herself away from him and slid down in the bed, yawning again.

  ‘It was.’

  ‘Darling, you’re being infuriating. Would you please spell out in words of one syllable exactly what did happen?’

  Thanet was enjoying teasing her, keeping her in suspense. ‘I’m sure you can work it out for yourself.’

  ‘Luke!’

  ‘Just think. Imagine the scene at supper that night. Covin has just told Karen the truth. She’s upset, naturally, confused, angry, hurt. She feels betrayed. So she rushes out to the car. But just think: would she have driven straight to Reading?’

  Joan sat up with a jerk ‘She went to see Jessica!’ she said triumphantly. ‘And she either told Covin where she was going or he guessed that that was what she was going to do. That was why he rang Jessica, to warn her! And that was why he went racing over to Charthurst when he couldn’t get through on the phone!’

  Thanet grinned up at her. ‘Told you you could work it out for yourself.’

  ‘But when he got there he found that Jessica was dead. Did he actually see Karen there?’

  ‘Not in the house. He just got there in time to see her drive away.’

  ‘So he confessed because he was afraid she was responsible for Jessica’s death. But how do you know all this? He wouldn’t have told you, surely. It would have defeated the whole object of the exercise, as far as he was concerned.’ She slid back down in the bed. ‘In fact, I still don’t understand why you say you now know it was an accident.’

  ‘Because while we were interviewing Covin this afternoon, Karen arrived back.’

  ‘And told you exactly what did happen?’

  ‘Yes.’ Thanet related Karen’s story.

  Joan listened in silence until Thanet got the part where Jessica told Karen who her father was. ‘Oh no!’ she said. ‘What a way to find out. Poor kid.’

  Thanet then described how the accident had happened.

  ‘You can see it all, can’t you?’ said Joan sleepily. ‘Poor kid,’ she repeated. ‘What a dreadful few days she must have had.’

  ‘And poor Jessica,’ said Thanet. ‘I’ve learned quite a lot about her over the last few days and I can’t say I much like what I’ve heard. But I can’t help feeling sorry for her. First she lost her father, then her mother and then when she goes to live with her sister, her brother-in-law gets her pregnant. Then, when she did at last get married, her husband loses his job and she loses her home. It must have seemed to her that sooner or later everything would be taken away from her. Perhaps that was why she hung on to her husband.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘And it’s only just occurred to me. Maybe that was why she had affairs. Maybe she was so convinced that sooner or later Desmond would desert her too that in some strange way she was almost compelled to try and make it happen.’ Perhaps that was also why she had turned on her husband physically, if what the Bartons had said was true. ‘I don’t suppose she ever knew just how much he loved her, how well he understood her, and the degree to which he was therefore able to forgive her. People said, you know, that she had a very short fuse and I suppose that’s understandable, after what she’d been through. Desmond told us himself that he felt she was just plain angry with the way life had treated her and that beneath the surface the anger was always simmering away, waiting to erupt.’

  He glanced at Joan, expecting her to comment, but she was fast asleep.

  He sighed. ‘Well, I suppose you could say that on Tuesday evening it erupted once too often.’

  TWENTY

  ‘Luke? Wake up! Tea.’ Joan’s voice.

  Thanet opened one eye and murmured his thanks. He squinted at the clock. Seven-fifteen.

  She was already dressed and bustling about, drawing curtains. She peered anxiously at the sky. ‘It looks as though it’s going to be fine, thank goodness,’ she said.

  Thanet remembered. Bridget’s wedding day. The prospect of his speech loomed ahead and he groaned inwardly. ‘You’re up early.’ Usually, on Saturdays, they had a lie-in until 7.30.

  ‘I want to give Bridget breakfast in bed today, as a special treat.’

  ‘You’ll spoil her.’ But his tone was indulgent.

  ‘Not for much longer.’ She came to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘Oh Luke, I do so want today to be perfect for her.’

&nbs
p; ‘It will be, I’m sure. And as I said last night, if anything does go wrong, it’ll be something to look back on later and laugh about.’

  ‘But I don’t want anything to go wrong! It’s every mother’s nightmare on her daughter’s wedding day.’

  ‘You’ve done everything possible to make sure it won’t. You can’t do more. Now why don’t you just keep telling yourself that, and try to enjoy it? The one sure way of spoiling it for her is to go around looking anxiety-ridden all day!’

  ‘You’re right!’ she said. She put her arms around him and gave him a hug and a lingering kiss.

  ‘Mmm,’ he said. ‘You don’t suppose there’s time . . .’

  ‘Not this morning. Tonight.’

  ‘Something to look forward to!’ he said with a grin. He and Joan had always enjoyed a healthy sex life.

  She jumped up. ‘Meanwhile, drink your tea. I’m going to prepare that breakfast tray.’

  When she had gone he eyed his morning coat again. He was slowly getting used to the idea of wearing it. All the other principal actors in the drama were going to be similarly attired after all. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as he had feared.

  He hopped out of bed, fetched the cards on which he had prepared his speech and ran through it quickly. Yes, it would do, he thought. And now it might be an idea to get into the bathroom first. Bridget had claimed it for nine o’clock so at some point there was going to be a queue.

  Gradually the house began to come alive. Bridget’s breakfast tray complete with ceremonial single rose in vase was taken up to her and before long the kitchen was crowded with people eating cereal, making toast and drinking cups of tea and coffee. The post arrived, with yet more cards from wellwishers, then came the bouquets, the tray of buttonholes for Thanet and the ushers. Inexorably, it seemed to Thanet, the momentum gathered pace. The ceremony was to be at midday and before long it was time for everyone to change. Joan and the bridesmaids were due to leave at 11.30 and by 11.15 he and Joan were ready in their unfamiliar finery. She was wearing a Jean Muir dress and jacket in fine aquamarine wool crepe. She had agonised over buying it. ‘How can I possibly justify spending so much money on one outfit?’