Murder at the Altar

by Veronica Heley

  father never took much interest in him.’

  She opened the laundry basket to put her soiled clothes in, and winced

  to see how much had accumulated there. Including one of Frank’s

  favourite shirts. She slammed the lid shut again.

  ‘It wasn’t all Frank’s fault though. I let him have his own way far too

  much. At first because I loved him and thought the sun shone, et cetera.

  And then after Diana was born I was so tired … and it was worse during

  those years when I was still working and we kept trying for another baby

  and all I had were miscarriages …’

  Not a good time to look back on. Especially with Aunt Drusilla openly

  making remarks about Ellie’s inability to give Frank the big family he

  wanted. And Diana blaming Ellie for being an only child. Something Aunt

  Drusilla or Frank had said to her …? Oh well, water under the bridge. No

  sense in blaming anyone, really.

  She thought, Frank can … could … say what he liked, but his ideas

  about women were old-fashioned. Children, church, cooking. ‘Fine as far as they went,’ said Ellie, pulling on some comfortable,

  baggy clothes. It wasn’t practical to wear good clothes when working in

  the charity shop, they only got filthy.

  What would I have done if I hadn’t got married so young? she thought.

  Been an explorer? Flown to the moon? Become a teacher? She stripped the bed with vicious pleasure.

  A nice single bed, she thought. Yes! With a really soft mattress. Frank

  would have thought I was going mad. But that’s what I want, and I’ll order

  one today. Luxury!

  She fetched the radio from the bathroom – all was quiet next door now

  – and went downstairs as someone did the same on the other side of

  the party wall.

  As she retrieved the newspaper from the letter-box she saw Armand

  leaving the house, stylish car coat swinging behind him, elbows angular,

  briefcase in hand. His car tyres squealed as he swung away from the

  pavement and tore off out of sight.

  A moment later Kate appeared with a scarf around her head and

  shoulders. She walked stiffly up the garden path and swung herself into

  her car.

  Has she just got a hangover, Ellie thought, or is it something worse?

  Am I imagining things? Yes, probably.

  She had believed Kate last night when the girl had said she had had

  nothing to do with Ferdy’s death, and had left him alive. But suppose

  Armand had seen them together and, driven by jealousy, had gone out

  to confront Ferdy? Had the police considered that?

  Ellie knew Frank considered her to be naïve and unworldly, capable of

  being taken in by the simplest of conmen. But …?

  Frank would have said Not To Interfere. He’d have said it was No

  Business of Theirs.

  ‘But I’m not Frank!’ said Ellie. ‘And if I want to make a fool of myself by

  making some enquiries, then I shall!’

  For a start, she would phone the police and tell them she’d seen Kate

  running away towards the park on the night of the murder. And today she

  would go into the shop. A pity, when the world was suddenly full of interesting things to do, but there would be time now to do them. Order a new

  bed. Buy some new bedlinen. Check how much money she had in her

  account.

  Thank heavens Frank had insisted she have her own account for

  household expenses, even though he’d wanted to check the bank statements every month. Under his direction she was accustomed to paying

  all the household bills. And if she didn’t know how to change a plug or

  operate his computer yet … well, give her time and she’d learn. She must see the solicitor soon. She hadn’t been able to take it in

  when he’d talked to her briefly after the funeral. She thought he’d said

  she’d be all right for money. He’d muttered something about Frank’s life

  insurances, and said she mustn’t worry about anything. He’d seen she

  was unable to concentrate, and asked her to make an appointment to

  see him when she felt better. She must do that.

  Now what was it Kate had said last night while they were waiting for

  the pizza to be reheated? That Ellie should invest in a microwave oven?

  Frank wouldn’t hear of them, but …

  Ellie smiled. Well, why not?

  Kate had also said that if Ellie was having a problem with the computer, she could count on her for help.

  Marvellous.

  There was something else she could do. She’d been told that Kate’s

  oldest friend was Joyce McNally, now going out with the scoutmaster at

  church. And Joyce’s mother Rose was one of the volunteer helpers at

  the charity shop. So if Ellie were feeling inquisitive, she could make an opportunity to talk to Rose and find out what she knew of Kate and Ferdy.

  If anyone knew the background to that affair, it would be Rose. Gossip. ‘Oh dear,’ said Ellie, grinning. ‘How Frank would disapprove!’

  He was only an errand boy, but he had ambitions to greater things. The boss’s instructions were clear, though they sounded daft to him.

  He parked by the wall, stowed the half-smoked butt of a cigarette behind

  his ear and waited till there was no one in particular around. Then he got

  out of the van, whistling. If you wore overalls and looked as if you knew

  what you were doing, no one ever challenged you.

  Behind the wall there was a five-year-old estate of starter homes, flats

  and three-bedders. He thought they were pretty good, wouldn’t have

  minded if someone had given him a key to one of them. Better than the

  council, any day.

  But perhaps luck was swinging his way, and he’d be able to make the

  move upwards … soon, very soon. He’d heard the field was wide open. Course, you couldn’t swing a cat in any of these tiddly little houses,

  but they were always in demand. Someone got a rise at work and moved

  up to the next size house. Someone died, or the children moved away,

  and the owners downsized.

  So there were always houses for sale. At the moment there were six

  For Sale signs ranged along the wall that bounded this side of the

  housing estate. Some had the legend SOLD tacked over them. He

  checked the list. He was to choose one from an estate agent with an

  office some distance away.

  He did so. There were two of them, so one wouldn’t be missed. He

  took down one with a Sold sign on it, and heaved it into the back of the

  van. Still whistling, he drove the short distance to the Avenue. Turning left

  at the church, he parked in the driveway of the empty house.

  Ellie let herself into the shop, and stifled a swearword. She didn’t normally swear, but ‘Oh, dear!’ was not strong enough to express what she felt at that moment. Chaos reigned.

  The charity shop was not open on Mondays. Staffing it on a Saturday was hard enough, so Mondays they were usually closed.

  However, several key people were usually around on a Monday, putting in a couple of hours to deal with what had been handed in on Saturday, generally tidy up, redo the windows and so on.

  No one had turned up to work today. The bookshelves were half empty. Garments had been dragged off the rails and left on the floor. Someone had smashed a rather fine teapot and left the pieces on the carpet.

  Ellie considered closing her eyes, letting herself out of the shop and returning home. Or better still, going
on a spending spree in one of the big department stores up town.

  Someone tapped on the door behind her. A little bent brown mouse of a woman was making signs at her through the glass-paned door.

  Mrs Rose McNally. Well, what a surprise! Rose never came in on a Monday if she could help it. But here she was, the answer to a maiden’s

  – well, not so much of a maiden, actually – but definitely the answer to prayer.

  ‘Dear Ellie, I know it isn’t my day to come in, but when I saw you through the window, I thought … well, of course I was going to call around, see how you were bearing up, but then I thought you wouldn’t want to be bothered with … and really there’s no need to ask because I know how it is, the place seems so empty and you never do get over it really, do you?’

  Ellie opened her mouth to reply that she thought she was doing pretty well, all things considered, but Rose was not to be diverted.

  ‘… I can see you’re wondering why everything’s in such a mess here. We had such problems last week, you’ve no idea! Well, you probably do have an idea, because you know what Donna is like when she gets going and then Anita took offence and dear John had to go to the dentist

  – his plate, you know – and I told them we ought to try to get it sorted before you came back, but you can imagine how much notice they took of that!’

  ‘Dear Rose, it’s lovely to see you. I’m sure we can soon get this cleaned up between us …’

  ‘Oh, I wasn’t going to …’

  Ellie put on her most appealing smile. ‘You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you all. I did want to come back last week, but well, you know how it is …’

  One widow to another. Rose nodded. She knew, all right.

  Ellie said, ‘Thanks for your good wishes, dear. I do know it’s not your usual day to help. But I thought while I was here, I’d try to clear up some of the mess. So, do you think you could spare a couple of minutes, and we can have a cup of coffee together while I tackle the worst of it?’

  ‘Well, I …’ Rose managed a lipless smile. ‘I suppose I could.’

  Ellie turned on all the lights, seized a dustpan and brush and set to work. ‘And while the kettle’s boiling, you can tell me what’s happened to Madam.’

  Each charity shop in the chain had a paid part-time supervisor, appointed by head office. Some were brilliant, some merely so-so. Their own particular supervisor was rather less than merely so-so. She was more often absent than present, and couldn’t be bothered to stop the feuding among her volunteer helpers. She probably hadn’t been in for a week.

  ‘She hasn’t been seen for a week!’ Rose enjoyed a good gossip. Rose didn’t serve in the shop, but was one of the invaluable ladies who patiently sorted through and priced the women’s clothing as it came in.

  Ellie fell over two large boxes of books which had been left under the men’s clothes stand. Each helper had their own speciality, and John’s was dealing with the books. Poor John suffered agonies with his few remaining teeth and his plate. He wouldn’t have gone off and left the boxes like that if he hadn’t been in pain. Ellie began to stack books, while listening with half her attention to Rose rambling on about the iniquities of Madam and what Anita had said to Donna, and what Donna had said to John, and …

  ‘… you wouldn’t believe it, Ellie, but John actually swore at her!’

  ‘Oh, dear …’ And how unlike John, who was usually brilliant at keeping the peace. He was also responsible for banking the money. John was indispensable. Pushing the last few paperbacks into place, Ellie turned her attention to the garments on the floor.

  ‘A toddler broke that teapot and the childminder refused to pay for it. Donna said Anita should clear it up, and Anita said she was serving, thank you very much, and …’

  Ellie let Rose run on. Two mugs of coffee appeared, and they sat behind the counter, elbow-deep in black plastic sacks of unsorted clothes and bric-a-brac, which definitely should not have been left in the shop.

  ‘… of course, Anita was worried about her grandson who’s been ever so ill with a sweetie some man gave him. Then Mrs Hanna came in carrying that awful little dog of hers, and she wanted to talk about the murder, and of course we were all sympathetic, but Donna said Mrs Hanna was taking up Anita’s time when she ought to be serving, and it’s true the shop was full of people. Then Anita appealed to John, but he was being crucified with an abscess, and waiting to go to the dentist on an emergency appointment, so he wasn’t really with it, if you know what I mean …’

  Ellie nodded, and thought that at this rate Rose would give her all the details she needed, without any need for prompting.

  And so she did. After working her way through what the local paper had said about the murder … not much, at such short notice, but there’d be a big spread this coming Friday, wouldn’t there! … and her opinion of Ferdy … had it coming to him, I’d say …

  ‘Why do you say that?’ asked Ellie. ‘A bit of a layabout, I suppose, but …’

  Rose snorted, enjoying the drama of the situation. There was even a little colour in her cheeks for once. She had no one much to talk to at home, poor soul, now that her daughter had moved out.

  Not that Ellie had now, come to think of it. Don’t think of it.

  ‘… well, everyone wondered how he managed because apart from taking a stall at car boot sales and being on the dole of course, he had that big car as well as his van, and they must have cost a bomb to run. And he was always going to clubs and raves and taking girls out. I pity his poor mother, I really do. Working her fingers to the bone and giving him handouts I shouldn’t wonder. And as for fickle!’

  ‘Didn’t he go out with your Joyce at one time?’

  ‘No, not our Joyce. It was her friend Kate he went out with, but that was ages back, just boy and girl stuff. They used to make up a foursome now and then, Joyce and that girl Kate, the one that did so well for herself up at the uni—’

  ‘Joyce knew Ferdy quite well at one time, didn’t she? What did she think about all this?’

  ‘Terribly shocked. Well, we all were. Of course, she hadn’t seen him to talk to properly for ages. You know she’s going out with the scoutmaster up at the church now? Now he’s much more like it.’

  ‘You didn’t approve of Joyce going out with Ferdy and his friend?’

  ‘I can’t say I liked it, but you know what girls are like nowadays. You tell them not to do something, and they go straight ahead and do it. It wasn’t so much that Bob’s father was black, as that he didn’t have a proper job, and I don’t say I wasn’t worried at the time and so was her father before he passed over, but you can’t put a wise head on young shoulders, and all’s well that ends well is what I say. Those two girls did all right for themselves. Could have gone on the dole, like Ferdy. But they didn’t, did they?’

  Rose leaned closer and dropped her voice. ‘To tell the truth, I think that come the summer we’ll be booking the church for a very special occasion. And unlike some, I’ll be really proud of my son-in-law.’

  ‘Unlike some? You mean, unlike Kate?’

  Rose refolded her lips, indicating that wild horses wouldn’t make her divulge any more … unless she were pressed to do so.

  ‘Oh, go on,’ said Ellie. ‘You can tell me.’

  Rose looked around for eavesdroppers. A big, heavy-set man was peering in through the shop window. Both women started. He was so very large. Alarmingly so.

  Ellie said, uneasily, ‘The closed sign is up on the door, isn’t it?’

  The large man turned away from the window. Both women laughed.

  ‘Poor man. I wonder what he wanted. I doubt if we have any clothing large enough for him. Go on, Rose. You were saying about Kate.’

  ‘I thought that man was going to force the door open! Well, if you must know, Joyce never liked Armand. She didn’t want to spoil Kate’s fun, but she did feel she had the right to warn her. Kate wouldn’t be told. Had to have him. After all those years of being best friends, Kate and she broke
up.’

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’

  Rose pinched in her lips and raised her thin eyebrows. ‘Mister Perfect. Mister going-to-be-headmaster. Mister don’t want to know you. Bloody snob! Joyce told me she wasn’t going to let herself be patronized by him.’ Rose sighed. ‘Joyce reminded me the other night, she’d always wanted Kate to be her bridesmaid when she got married. But Joyce doesn’t think she can ask Kate now.’

  ‘That’s a shame. I think Kate’s in need of a friend at the moment.’

  Rose gave her a shrewd look. ‘You think she’s upset over Ferdy’s death? Not her. No eyes for anyone but that stuck-up husband of hers. Didn’t even ask Joyce to be her bridesmaid. Sneaked off to the registry and did it one Saturday morning. I think he didn’t want to invite her mother or Joyce. Chickens come home to roost, I say.’

  Someone let themselves into the shop. John, looking drained and tired. ‘Hello, there! Saw the lights. Sorry I couldn’t stay on Friday. Emergency, abscess, you know. Ellie, lovely to see you back.’

  ‘Just catching up on the gossip.’

  ‘About Madam? Ah. If I could have a word?’

  Rose picked up her coat and handbag. ‘I’m just going …’

  ‘Thank you so much, Rose.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  The shop door closed behind her. As she moved off, Ellie spotted the big man outside the greengrocers. He really was a very large man. But then – she reminded herself – big men were often surprisingly kind and gentle.

  Ellie made another mug of coffee and pushed it towards John. ‘Dear John, sit down and before you say anything else, tell me how you are.’

  John pulled a face. He had a rubbery face, which usually wore a kindly expression, but at the moment he looked lopsided.

  ‘Oh, well. Abscess, you know. On antibiotics. Best not to think about it.’

  ‘Same here. About Frank, I mean. Best to get on with things.’