‘Mm. Did you put up the books for me? I don’t suppose Rose was the good fairy. I was going to call round and see you, but then … the abscess. And I didn’t want to bother you with our troubles here, when you have so much else on your plate.’
‘It’s Madam, isn’t it?’
‘Head office are catching on at long last. How long have we been covering up for her? Six months? Nine? Since before Christmas, when that married daughter of hers wanted free childcare. Spoilt little brat. Grandma dotes, but doesn’t make him mind his Ps and Qs, I notice. We were doing all right till Frank got ill and you had to stop doing extra, but these last few weeks everything’s gone to pet. The takings are down. We’re at one another’s throats all the time. When Madam is here, she doesn’t take an interest. Head office sent a director down to our last committee meeting and she didn’t even bother to turn up. So head office have said they’re coming in again this week to talk to her. Between you and me, I think Madam’s had enough of the job and might well resign. And if she doesn’t resign, she’ll be pushed.’
Ellie nodded. ‘Yes, but who’d be able to take it on? You?’
‘No, my dear. You. How would you feel about taking it on yourself?’
5
I didn’t see that coming, Ellie thought. She didn’t know what she felt about it. Bewildered? Frightened? No, she couldn’t possibly … She stared through the window into the street. The big man was over at the newsagent’s now. He turned and looked back at the charity shop, right through the front window and into her eyes. She wished he’d go away.
‘Ellie?’
She fingered her wedding ring. ‘I don’t think I’d be up to it, John.’ ‘I think you’d be ideal. We all do.’
‘You’ve actually discussed this with the others?’
‘Exhaustively. It’s about the only thing we can all agree on nowadays.
You’re good with people. You know what hard work means. You’ve practically been doing the job for Madam this last six months. You’ve always underestimated your capabilities. And now Frank’s gone …’
She got up with an abrupt movement. ‘It’s not that straightforward. I’m not sure yet how much I’ve got to live on. Suppose I have to get a job or sell the house? I’m just beginning to realize how much my life is going to change. Anyway, I’m sure head office can find someone much better than me to take over … and we don’t even know if Madam really wants to go, yet.’
John took the used mugs to the basin at the back and washed them out. He said, ‘I knew you’d say you couldn’t do it, first off. Promise me one thing. Think about it seriously?’
‘John, how could you put this on me just now? Haven’t I got enough to worry about as it is?’
He patted her cheek and left. Ellie looked around her. She’d spent years of her life working here. It was another home to her. She knew the team, and they knew her. She’d miss it terribly if she left. But that wasn’t enough reason to take on the responsibility of running it, was it? A woman’s voice on the phone. Businesslike.
‘All fixed. You can move into the house today. Yes, of course get in through the back, but don’t make it obvious. It’s a perfect position for everything. There’s some net curtains in the upstairs windows at the front. Keep watch from there. Get the garage open. We can use it to store the goods, but don’t start moving them until I say so, right?’
Ellie was on her way home with a laden shopping basket when she noticed that a Sold notice had gone up outside the empty house. She wondered who had bought it. It would need a lot of work doing to it. She scanned the windows for signs of life, but there were none. They’d put builders in first, of course.
She made a mental note to call on the new people when they moved in. She’d be able to see any removal van from her back windows.
Nice to feel the old house was going to be lived in again. The old lady who had lived there before had been a bit of a tartar, wouldn’t even let the children pick up the conkers from her driveway, never socialized. Ah well. Takes all sorts.
It was starting to drizzle with rain, so she hurried along the alley and up through the garden.
On her back doorstep sat a large open blue and white striped umbrella with one bent spoke. She recognized it as the one she kept in the garden shed.
‘Tod?’ she asked.
The umbrella lifted to reveal a young boy’s peaky face under a ragged haircut. It was one of Tod’s most attractive features – to Ellie, at any rate
– that a tuft of his dusky-brown hair always stuck up at the back. He stood, banging the umbrella against the back door.
‘Thought you’d never come.’
‘I’ve been working at the shop today and then I did some shopping. Do you fancy a chocolate biscuit?’
‘Mm. Mum’s out till late. I wanted to come round before, but she told me not to. Said you’d enough to cope with, without my bothering you.’
She smiled at him, struggled to put the umbrella down, stowed it in a corner of the kitchen sink, dumped her shopping and put the kettle on. ‘You’re no bother.’ Though perhaps she wouldn’t have said so the previous day.
‘You got my flowers?’ He was looking over his shoulder into the hall. Nervous.
‘It was a lovely thought. Thank you.’
‘A course, in a way, they were your flowers, really. I ’spect you noticed that.’
‘I was so pleased you’d thought of me.’
He sighed with relief. Confession over. But he was still not at ease. What on earth was the matter with the boy? It couldn’t be the thefts …? No. He wouldn’t have returned to see her if he’d stolen the things. Which reminded her that she still hadn’t phoned the police about seeing Kate, and the burglary. And there was the ever-nagging question of whether she ought or ought not to phone Aunt Drusilla and apologize, offer to run whatever errands it was that the old lady wanted doing.
Tod ate three chocolate biscuits with concentration, not looking up from the plate. Then suddenly swung round and stared at the hall.
‘Whatever’s the matter, Tod?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Tell me.’
‘A boy at school says he saw a ghost here.’
‘Nonsense.’
‘He did! By the church. Coming down to your gate, and then disappearing up the garden path. I thought it might be Mr Quicke, but my friend said it musta been the murdered man, wandering through the night, “seeking vengeance …”’ His voice took on a doom-laden note. Although he was clearly frightened at the thought of a ghost, he was also enjoying the drama.
Ellie was overcome by giggles.
Tod stared at her, affronted. He liked Mrs Quicke, and he had thought she liked him, took him seriously, never made fun of him as his mum did.
‘Don’t laugh. It’s true!’ he insisted.
She remembered how she’d reacted when she’d thought she’d seen Frank at the bedroom door, when it was only his dressing-gown, after all.
She said, ‘No, I shouldn’t laugh. But really, Tod, my husband is not haunting this house, nor the Green.’
Bright eyes watched her from under his fringe. ‘You sure?’
‘Certain, positive. Another biscuit? An apple? Some baked beans?’
He took another biscuit. ‘Maybe it’s Ferdy who’s haunting the place. Some of the boys in my class are daring one another to cross over by the church in the dark. Maybe his ghost is trying to get into other houses that back on to the Green.’
So that’s why he hadn’t gone home. He didn’t want to be alone in his house if the ghost came tapping at his window.
‘There’s no ghost,’ she said, ‘but I’d be glad of your company for a while. Why don’t you get out your homework and make a start on it? And when it’s time for you to go back home, I’ll walk along with you.’
He sat up straight and took out his homework.
She resisted the temptation to smooth down his hair at the back. He was a nice boy. It was stupid of her to have suspected him of theft, even f
or a minute. She would go and ring the police now, tell them about seeing Kate.
‘It’s prob’ly nothing,’ he said. ‘But I think the ghost – if there is a ghost – has been in your garden shed. When I went in for the umbrella
– ’cause you were late coming back, and it started to rain – I put the torch on and must a knocked the lawnmower cable off its nail. Honest, I hardly touched it. But when I was picking it up off the floor, I noticed that the cable was all frayed where it goes into the plug. I ’spect the ghost was trying to warn you not to use it till it’s been checked over.’
Ellie held herself back from repeating that there wasn’t any such thing as a ghost. A frisson ran down her back. Had Frank really returned from the grave to warn her about a frayed cable? Nonsense.
‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘I won’t need to use the lawnmower again till the spring.’
She went into the sitting-room to draw the curtains. The sky was overcast and it was drizzling again. She could hardly see the church spire and a wind was getting up. She ducked her head to the right to see if there were a light on in the house that had just been sold. It had a name … Endene … something like that. She wasn’t sure, but she fancied she could see a faint light upstairs.
Goodness, were the new people camping out there? She hoped they’d managed to put the water and electricity on. She must ask in the shop tomorrow, see if anyone knew who they were.
She rang the local police station. She’d thought they would leap into one of their crime cars and come rushing round to question her about seeing Kate on the night of the murder, but they just said they’d make a note of it, and was she prepared to go into the incident room at the church hall tomorrow to make a statement.
Rather blankly, she said she would. After she’d put the phone down, she scolded herself for having thought what she had to say was so important. Obviously they had checked Kate’s statement already, and found people who had seen her in the park. So what Ellie had had to say was quite beside the point.
As she drew the curtains at the front of the house, she noticed that Kate was not back, though Armand’s car was there. That couple puzzled her. She thought that tomorrow she might well ask around about Armand. And order a new bed. She’d have to go further than the Avenue for it. She’d go in the afternoon, after putting in a morning at the charity shop … and the more she thought about taking the shop over, the less she liked the thought of it.
Everything was happening at once. What was she going to do about Aunt Drusilla? She ducked the thought, but did ring the solicitor to make an appointment. She’d known him for ever. Perhaps he could give her some advice about dealing with Aunt Drusilla.
She went back into the kitchen to start her supper, and see to Tod.
The fat man had introduced a large folding chair into the master bedroom and made use of a rickety card table that he’d found in a cupboard. The owners had cleared the house of all but a few broken pieces of furniture. There were no carpets, only some old lino tacked to the floorboards.
No lights. No electricity yet. No water.
He’d brought a large pizza, some tins of lager, plus a plastic sack to put the debris in. He’d thought of bringing his portable TV, but hadn’t quite dared in case the boss caught him.
He’d got into the house courtesy of a faulty catch on the rotting French windows. The back garden was a meadow now. He supposed it had once been a lawn. The Saab was in the garage. It was a big double garage. Plenty of room for Ferdy’s Bentley if they brought it back here. And for supplies.
The kitchen door downstairs was unlocked, ready for a quick getaway if needed. The previous owners had left a back door key hanging on a nail just inside the scullery. Thoughtful of them.
He munched and watched lights go on. Schoolchildren skittered across the Green, playing some game of Last Across, or Dare.
Commuters began to return from work, walking slowly, burdened by laptops, briefcases, shopping bags. A gap.
He huddled into an enormous leather coat, feeling the cold.
The target came out of her house, escorting a small boy … how did he get there? A golfing umbrella was erected with some difficulty. They went down the garden path together, past the garden shed – he hoped she’d remember to mow the lawn tomorrow – and along the path away from him.
Binoculars up.
They went up another garden. Knocked on a back door. He would check tomorrow which number it was. Boy deposited. Target returning under the big umbrella. Up the garden path. Into the house with the umbrella, which was still causing trouble. Light off in the kitchen. Light on in the living-room downstairs.
That flickering light behind the curtains would be the telly. He wondered what she was watching.
It was getting cold. He could leave soon, surely.
Lights off downstairs.
Landing light turned on upstairs … and in the bathroom … and out of the bathroom … and after a short while, the landing light was turned out. And so to bed.
Tuesday morning. Time to get up, have breakfast, go to work at the shop. Ellie felt tired and drab but forced a smile and thanked everyone when they asked if she were sure she wasn’t coming back to work too soon?
By lunchtime she was exhausted. When Madam swept into the shop, ordering them all about and quite failing to say anything to Ellie about Frank’s death … why, that was when she decided enough was enough!
One last customer … someone coming to pay the balance of a children’s game she’d put down a deposit for on Saturday. Ellie knew the woman slightly.
As she put the game into a bag and took the money for it Ellie asked, ‘You live somewhere near the big department store where they have good bedding, don’t you? Do you happen to know if they’ve got a sale on at the moment? I was thinking of popping over there this afternoon, but it’s two buses and I’m a bit rushed for time.’
‘They do have a sale on, but it finishes on Saturday. I can give you a lift over there now if you like but you’ll have to hurry. I’m due back at school.’
What a piece of luck. Ellie rushed to get her coat and bag and inserted herself into the passenger seat of a shiny new red Mini. They roared off into the traffic.
‘This is very kind of you,’ said Ellie. ‘Which school are you at? Do you happen to know someone called Armand? A history teacher, I think. He and his wife have recently moved next door to me.’
The woman was a demon driver, taking roundabouts at top speed. Ellie found something to hang on to, and sent up a prayer that they would arrive safely.
‘Oh, him.’ Dismissive tone. ‘He moved from my daughter’s old school when he got the head of department job at the high school.’
‘Not a particular favourite of yours?’
A half laugh. ‘Too short a fuse for my liking. But I shouldn’t tell tales out of school.’
‘The reason I asked is that being next door to me … well, I like his wife enormously, but …’
‘He won’t bother you, I expect. Got his eye on higher things. Determined to make head well before he’s forty.’
‘Too short a fuse? With the children?’
‘N-no. He doesn’t have any trouble keeping order, I’ll say that for him. Gets through the work OK. Got a good Ofsted report.’
Ellie said, ‘I think I know what you’re trying to say. He’s smarmy to the head and the parents, but treats everyone else like dirt?’
The teacher laughed till she hiccuped, and didn’t deny it. She signalled to turn right and then stood on her brakes. Ellie was jolted forwards and felt her neck muscles snap. She was glad they were wearing seatbelts.
The teacher grinned, looking in her wing mirror. ‘Nearly gave him cardiac arrest! I hate men who drive big cars right up to your bumper.’
Ellie twisted in her seat, and saw a large green car inches behind them. In the driver’s seat was the big fat man.
‘Why, it’s that man again. He’s been hanging around the shop but never comes in. Trying to pluck up coura
ge to ask if we’ve got anything his size, I expect.’
They both laughed at that. The teacher looked at her watch and made a cross noise. ‘Look, I’m a bit late. Would you mind if I dropped you this side of the railway line instead of taking you all the way round by road? It’s only a hop, skip and a jump over the bridge … but look out for workmen. They’re doing something to the handrails. It’s taking for ever.’
Ellie knew the shortcut well. She thanked the teacher for the lift, got out of the car and uncricked her neck. No real damage, thank goodness. What on earth would Frank have said about that sort of driving? Waving the Mini off, she looked around for the fat man in the green car. He had parked some way back, and appeared to be communing with a nearby tree. Swearing, she supposed. What a laugh!
The entrance to the footbridge over the railway was only a few yards away. She had always loved this bridge. When Diana had been young, they had often come this way so that they could see the ‘choo-choos’. They’d stand for ages on the bridge, waiting for the next train to rush by beneath them … happy days. She sighed.
Climbing the steps, she saw warning notices of work being done on the bridge. There was plentiful evidence that the workmen were still repairing sections of the handrails, but no workmen to be seen at the moment. Lunchtime, of course. She kept well away from the left side of the bridge, where scaffolding poles, wooden barriers, and new lengths of railing were piled. There was plenty of room for one person to walk along it at a time. Even a woman with a pushchair.
In the middle, Ellie paused and leaned on the newly finished railing, smiling to think how good Frank had been, knowing which trains went to which part of the country. ‘That’s an express going into Paddington,’ he’d say. ‘Come up from Cornwall, maybe.’
Ellie felt in her pockets for a handkerchief. She hoped she hadn’t come out without one. Just her luck …
The fat man couldn’t believe his luck. She was alone. Something on her mind, by the look of it. A deserted bridge, scaffolding poles and balks of timber to hand. No need to wait for the frayed cord on the lawnmower to do its work. One quick swipe with a pole and she’d be over the bridge and crash down on to the rails far below.
Murder at the Altar Page 7