She pulled herself up on the pillows. ‘Yes, but they need their own place, and Vera ought to be going back to college or training for something.’
‘You’ll sort it.’ Another kiss, this time on her forehead. ‘Don’t ring me, unless there’s a disaster.’ He dragged on his dog collar – formal wear, today – and reached for a jacket. ‘Oh. One other thing. Would it help if I moved my study into the library? Give me more space. Then I could have my quiet room in the study, and that would give you another bedroom upstairs.’
She shot upright. ‘That’s your own special space. I told Betsey on no account was that room of yours to be disturbed.’
A grin. ‘It doesn’t take long for a room to be imprinted with prayers. Can you arrange it?’
She swung her legs out of bed. And groaned. ‘What was the weather forecast? Is it going to rain again?’
He drew back the curtains. ‘I wasn’t paying attention. It looks all right. Wear your best, official, going-to-chair-a-meeting dress and your diamond rings. Throw your weight around.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Who do you think is responsible for what’s been happening to the Hoopers?’
She reached for her dressing gown. ‘I did have an idea about that; I thought it might be the unsatisfactory son, Philip. But it was a woman journalist who set all the alarm bells going yesterday, so now I haven’t a clue.’
‘Trust your judgement. Then test it.’ With one more quick kiss, he left the room to start on his busy day – away from her.
Was it a good idea to ask searching questions at breakfast? Perhaps, because people were still muzzy from sleep at that time and might reply without thinking.
Angelika looked her usual immaculate self, but every now and then she frowned . . . and then massaged her forehead to smooth out any possible wrinkles.
Freya looked as if she’d lost weight.
Mikey had taken up his position at Ellie’s side once more. His bright eyes observed everything.
Ellie and Vera cooked and served between them, while Rose fluttered around trying to find some herbal tea for Angelika who said she never drank tea or coffee.
Ellie threw the question out in a quiet, unthreatening voice. ‘What about Philip?’
‘Who?’ Angelika looked blank. ‘Oh, you mean Philip? Evan’s eldest? Yes, of course. We ought to let him know what’s happened.’
Freya shook her head. ‘I suppose we ought, though I don’t know what he can do. Dad has refused even to have him in the house recently, though he said he’d continue to pay Philip’s bills.’
Angelika sipped herbal tea. ‘I suppose he could drive us around. Evan says Philip’s got a driving licence and some sort of van or car.’
‘What precisely is wrong with him?’ said Ellie.
‘Dunno, exactly,’ said Freya. ‘He’s a lot older than us. When Fiona and I were growing up we just accepted that he was a bit odd. He had his own nanny. She was supposed to be our nanny, too, but she always paid him far more attention than us. Then one day there was the most terrible row. We could hear Philip shouting and screaming from our bedrooms. Fiona and I wanted to see what was happening, but when Dad saw us hanging over the banisters, he sent us back to our rooms. After that Philip went away to boarding school and we had a different nanny. She was much nicer to us.’
‘What was the row about?’
Freya shrugged. ‘Dad said Philip had a problem with his nerves and that he’d be happier in a structured environment with people to look after him who would see that he took his medication. He did come back for the odd weekends in the holidays, but mostly he went off to camps and on study trips. Fiona thinks – thought – he was cool, and he is good-looking in a way. He drops in now and then to see us when Dad’s not around, and occasionally he meets us in town for a snack. Fiona fancies him, but I can’t seem to get on his wavelength. He says I’m too serious, and I suppose I am.’
‘He wasn’t much at home when you were growing up, then?’
‘Not after the great row, no.’
Angelika said, ‘Evan introduced me to Freya and Fiona early on, but I didn’t realize that there was a boy as well till later. I first met him when I was out shopping with Fiona one day, and we all had a meal together. He kept staring at me, but not in the usual way. Men often stare at me, but not like that.’
She wriggled her shoulders. ‘I thought he was a bit creepy. I told Evan, and he explained that Philip wasn’t well. He said he paid for Philip to be properly looked after in a quiet environment, and that I didn’t have to bother about him in any way. I knew he came round to the house sometimes to see Fiona, but I kept out of his way when he did.’
Freya was thoughtful. ‘You’re right, Philip ought to be told what’s happened. I mean, suppose he took it into his head to go the house and found it . . .?’ She shuddered.
‘He has keys to the house, then?’ asked Ellie.
‘Of course. If he saw the mess the house was in, he wouldn’t know that Dad was all right. Well, in the hospital, anyway. We ought to let him know.’
Angelika shrugged. ‘Have you got his address? I haven’t.’
‘Uh, no. The last I heard he was at some kind of horticultural college, down in Surrey. I remember Dad complaining about the fees, because I think it was the third or fourth time that Philip had started to train for something and left without finishing the course. He’s never been able to support himself. Such a shame. I suppose I could look in Fiona’s room to see if . . .’ Her voice trailed away, remembering what had happened to Fiona’s room.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Angelika. ‘Wasn’t he working for some charity or other after that? I’m pretty sure Evan said something about it. Gardening?’
‘Which one?’
Neither of them knew. ‘What does he look like?’ Ellie tried to make the question sound offhand.
Angelika said, ‘Oh, tall and thin. Skinny, really. Deep-set eyes.’
‘Red hair but not auburn,’ said Freya. ‘More ginger. He’s the only one of us who’s got the red-haired gene. Takes after his mother, I suppose. When I was little, I used to think he was like a stick insect, all hands and feet.’
Ginger hair. Didn’t someone say the clown who’d given Abigail a peanut butter biscuit had ginger hair? No, no. It had been a wig, hadn’t it? If only she’d taken better care of that photograph!
She said, ‘Did Monique have ginger hair?’
Angelika looked surprised. ‘Mm? No idea. Never met her.’
Freya screwed up her eyes. ‘She used to send us – Fiona and me – wonderful Christmas and birthday presents when we were little. Expensive. We had to write thank-you letters back. I can’t remember ever meeting her. She could be a redhead, I suppose.’
‘Why do you want to know?’ asked Angelika.
‘Because,’ said Ellie, choosing her words with care, ‘I wondered if it would be easier for Philip if his mother broke the news to him, rather than people he doesn’t know very well.’
‘That’s not a bad idea,’ said Angelika. ‘Let her break the news.’
Freya said, ‘Did Dad say she’d moved to the south somewhere? Brighton? Hove? Dad will have the address on his computer or iPad or address book or something. In his study . . . ouch! Change of subject; when can we ring the hospital?’
‘Yes, we must ring them,’ said Angelika. ‘When do you think we might see if anything is left of the house? Mrs Quicke, can you drive us round there soon?’
‘Sorry, I don’t drive.’
Both girls looked amazed. Angelika said, ‘Well, I could take your car and—’
‘Thomas has taken the car to Oxford for a conference.’
‘You mean, he’s not here to help us today? He’s not retired?’
‘Not exactly, no. I’ll ring the hospital in a minute, and then we can decide who does what. For a start, is there anyone you’d both prefer to go and stay with for a few days? A school friend, Freya?’
‘My two best friends have gone away for half-te
rm. I was supposed to be going with them until Fiona died, and then obviously Dad said I couldn’t.’
Angelika shook her head. ‘I can’t go anywhere till . . . My parents are both . . . They’re not exactly . . . And my sister’s got three kids. My agent says I can’t just up sticks and . . . and there’s the funeral.’
Silence. Angelika sat like a statue.
Vera said, ‘More tea or coffee, anyone?’
Heads were shaken. Vera began to take the boxes of cereal off the table.
Angelika made a sound like a hiccup, but nothing moved on her face.
Freya turned towards Angelika as if to throw her arm around the girl, but stopped short of doing so when Angelika said, ‘No, don’t touch me.’
Freya bit her lip. Hard. Then turned away. In an uneven voice she said, ‘That’s the cereal Abigail always used to have. Fiona liked it with apple juice. I thought it was good riddance when Fiona died, but things get to you . . .’
Silence while everyone readjusted their ideas about Angelika and Freya – and grief.
Rose was sitting in the big chair at the side, nursing a mug of tea. ‘I had an older brother once, tormented the life out of me. Killed himself in a motorbike crash. I was that pleased, couldn’t understand why my mother kept crying for him. It was ages before I began to miss him. Now I think to myself, maybe he’d have straightened out, been a blessing instead of a curse. It takes all sorts.’
‘Yes,’ said Angelika, face like a stone. ‘Abigail was a millstone round my neck. When she was born she looked up at me and I could see I wasn’t what she wanted. I never did work out what it was that she wanted, except her own way. She always wanted that. She made me feel . . . inadequate. But sometimes, when she was asleep, I could look at her and love her.’ Angelika gulped. She stood up, crashed back her chair and fled from the room, banging the door on her way out.
Freya stood up, moving with care, as if her legs might break under her. And went after her.
Ellie followed the two girls out into the hall and watched them make their way up the stairs and disappear into their rooms. Vera came to stand beside her. And Mikey. With Midge bringing up the rear.
Before Ellie could say anything, Vera jumped in. ‘You’re never going to cope with that lot by yourself. How would it be if we moved—?’
‘I’d love it if you—’
‘Rose says I can store anything on the top floor that we might want to keep—’
‘I was going to offer you a proper flat upstairs, but the planning permission hasn’t—’
‘I’ve only got to give a fortnight’s notice, and the rent’s paid up till—’
‘It’s a bit cramped and we’ll have to find another bed for—’
A big grin from Vera. ‘He likes his sleeping bag on the floor. No problem. That’s settled then.’
Ellie flapped her hands. ‘No, no. We have to ask Mikey what he thinks.’
Mikey grinned. Nodded.
Vera looked at her watch. ‘We’d better get busy, get over there, pack up and move back. Tuesday morning. You still have a cleaning team come in on Tuesday mornings?’
Rose appeared behind them. ‘That funny blondie woman called round twice yesterday and rang I dunnamany times to speak to you, and that so-called secretary of yours, Pat, will be here in a minute, wanting you to go off with her and look at paperwork—’
‘I don’t know any blondie woman,’ said Ellie. ‘And bother the paperwork. Vera, I’ll ask the cab company to pick you and Mikey up and take you back to the flat. I’ll get Maria to send someone in to clean up after you. Oh dear, it’s half-term and I know she’s short-handed.’
‘I can manage. If I can’t get us out of there and clean up—’
‘If you get stuck, I could ask Stewart if he can find someone to help you. I’ll tell the cab people that you’ll give them a ring when you’re ready to come back. Tell them I’ll pay both ways. Of course, you’ll get a proper wage for helping Rose to keep this house going from now on, but it’s to be understood that at some point you may want to go off to college or train for something, you hear me?’
‘Oh, no. I—’
‘Non-negotiable,’ said Ellie. ‘Edgar’s instructions. For the time being, consider yourself part of the family.’ She bent to give Mikey a hug. ‘You, too.’
‘Sorry to interrupt.’ An acid tone in Angelika’s voice as she appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘Have you got the phone number for the hospital?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Ellie wondered where she might find it. Thomas had made the calls yesterday, hadn’t he? Where would he have left the number? Perhaps on the top of his desk? If not, it would be in the phone book.
Which reminded her that she was supposed to be organizing the removal of his study to the library at the end of the corridor . . . and Mikey had taken a lot of the books off the shelves . . . and was that hailstones striking the glass of the conservatory? What horrible weather.
The doorbell rang.
Ellie recognized the Voice of Doom, even if no one else did. Rose was nearest the door and opened it. Diana.
An exhausted Diana with sunken eyes, pulling a carry-on bag after her. Rain had slicked her hair to her head. Her car was parked near the front door, but she’d got drenched in the few steps she’d taken to get into the house.
Diana was wearing a plain gold band on her fourth finger. Well, well. Jumping the gun, wasn’t she? But a sensible precaution to wear a ring at the hospital if you wanted to claim you were Evan Hooper’s current inamorata.
On Diana’s heels came Ellie’s secretary, Pat, umbrella blown inside out. Abominably cheerful. ‘Woohoo! What weather! It’s blowing a gale out there.’
Rose banged the front door shut and stumped off back to the kitchen, where she could be heard crashing plates into the dishwasher.
Ellie told herself to count ten. Or maybe eleven.
Mikey picked up Midge, who mewed once but allowed himself to be cuddled. Midge didn’t like Diana. The feeling seemed to be mutual. Mikey took off with the cat in his arms, up the stairs, round the landing and through the unobtrusive door which led up to the top, currently uninhabited storey.
Pat cleared her throat. Loudly. By this time of the morning she expected Ellie to be at her desk, ready to tackle her correspondence, dictate replies, and work hard during the hours Pat was in attendance. Pat ignored the visitors to say, falsely cheerful, ‘Well, shall we be getting on, Ellie? You’ve got that appointment with the landscape gardener at ten, remember.’
‘Have I? Oh dear. In this weather?’ Ellie was worried about Diana, who had eased herself down on to a hall chair and was shivering.
Ellie dithered. Too many people wanted her to help them, and she hadn’t a clue which to look after first – or even if she ought to bother. Almost, she wrung her hands. An arrow prayer seemed to be in order.
Dear Lord, help!
Then she remembered Thomas saying she was like an angel with a flaming sword, defending those who had come to her for sanctuary. Which made her smile.
She also remembered Thomas reminding her that she should put on the bling and throw her weight about. He hadn’t meant that literally, of course. She’d pulled on the first warm clothing that had come to hand. But he’d reminded her that God had given her the wherewithal to get things done; i.e, money.
She said, in her briskest tone, ‘Well, Pat; I’m not going round the Pryce garden with anyone in this weather. Give him a ring, cancel it. Make another appointment.’
‘Can’t do that,’ said Pat, amused. ‘He’s coming in from Kent specially.’
‘See if you can get him on his mobile. Divert him.’ Ellie helped Diana off with her jacket, which was soaked. Diana didn’t wear perfume, but Ellie recognized a faint, sickly smell on the jacket. Diana had recently been sick. Oh. How far was she on with her pregnancy? Wouldn’t all this excitement be bad for the baby?
Meanwhile, the others were waiting for her to do something, anything, to sort them out. ‘Pat; ring for a cab t
o take Vera back to her flat. She’s going to collect some of her belongings and bring them back here. Tell the cab people that she’ll want the largest of their cars to put her stuff in on the return journey; or a small van if they can lay hands on one. She’ll contact them when she’s ready to leave. Make it clear that I’m paying, both ways.’
With an ill grace, Pat disappeared.
Freya and Angelika walked down the stairs, staring at Diana. Resenting her, but not prepared to make a scene.
Diana looked back, just as steadily. Not resenting them, either. Diana was too sure of her ground for that. ‘Evan’s being kept in for more tests. He didn’t want me to leave him, but I need a shower, a couple of hours’ kip and a change of clothes.’
Angelika drew closer to Freya. Or perhaps it was vice versa?
Ellie asked, ‘Diana, why don’t you go back to your flat?’
A shrug. ‘The heating’s on the blink. I rang the engineer. They said they couldn’t come till Friday.’ She put her hand over her mouth and half closed her eyes. Gulped. ‘I didn’t think you’d turn me away.’ For once Diana was not demanding, but asking for help.
Ellie wished she hadn’t had to get out of bed that morning. She wished Thomas hadn’t had to go away. She wished she had the brains to work out what to do. There wasn’t a spare bed to be had, except possibly . . . But she couldn’t ask Diana to doss down in the library on an adjustable chair. Could she? No, she couldn’t, even if the room had not been earmarked for another purpose, because Diana was clearly being sick at frequent intervals and needed to be near a bathroom.
Freya spoke first. ‘I’ll go and sit with Dad. I’ve got a bus pass. I can get a bus to the Broadway and then another from there to the hospital, can’t I?’
Angelika said, ‘I’ll go round to the house, then. See what can be saved.’
They were looking at Ellie for approval – or for help with the arrangements? For both.
Ellie said, ‘Freya; you’ve got the right idea. I’ll order a cab to take you there. Have you enough money for food and something to drink? You have? Good. Is your mobile fully charged? Yes? Ring me when there’s any news about your father and when you’re ready to come back. Angelika; I’ll ring my son-in-law who runs a property company and ask if he can spare someone to take you to the house. He’ll know what arrangements you’ll have to make to salvage what’s left, and to have the house made secure. I suggest you concentrate on Evan’s study, find all the documents relating to insurance, the builders he uses, that sort of thing. The insurance people will need to inspect the damage before you can get any repairs done.’
Murder in Mind Page 19