Ellie paid, left a generous tip and made her way out of the café. The police were still keeping guard over Mrs Hanna’s place.
Someone hailed her from across the street. John, exiting the charity shop on his way home for the day.
He caught her arm. ‘Just the person I wanted to see. I was going to come round by your place on my way home. The thing is …’ his rubbery face expressed anguish. ‘… well, I didn’t want you walking in tomorrow and finding … the truth is that the director came down and Madam told him she was turning over a new leaf and staying on. Apparently her daughter’s moving away and putting the child in a nursery. So Madam’s going to hang on to her job here and there’s not much we can do about it.’
Ellie found that she was relieved … and then annoyed. Relief dominated. She thought.
‘I’m pleased for her,’ she said.
‘Really? We aren’t.’ Gloom settled on John’s shoulders. ‘She’ll be all right for a while, no doubt, and then revert to her old ways. She never has been able to soothe awkward customers either on the shop floor or behind the till. You should have seen our faces when she announced what was going to happen. Didn’t know where to look. Most of us were counting the days till you could take over.’
‘Now, John, you know I only promised to think about it. I never said I would do it, and the more I did think about it, the more problems I could see.’
‘Hmph. Bet you don’t say that in a couple of weeks’ time when you’re landed with sorting out yet another of her messes. But I’m holding you up. Are you on your way home? I’m going that way, too.’
As they walked along, John told Ellie that the antibiotics were finally kicking in and he was feeling a lot better. She opened her mouth to tell him what the solicitor had just said, then closed it again. Perhaps if she boasted about it, it would all vanish into thin air.
No, she didn’t really think it would vanish. But perhaps it would be better not to speak about it to too many people. Mr Weatherspoon’s warning came to her mind. He knew someone who had been pestered for money in the street, at home, on the phone, by letter, just because she’d come into a little inheritance.
Not that John was going to ask her for a loan, of course. Ellie felt dizzy with plans for what she could do with the money … she would sort things out with Diana, of course. Her favourite charities would benefit, she would treat all her friends to a slap-up lunch somewhere, or a day out in a minibus, or perhaps a matinee at the theatre. Then all the small children she knew would have extra-special Christmas presents … and for herself? Well, she didn’t really need much. Perhaps, if she were to be really self-indulgent, she might install a small greenhouse and replace the curtains in the sitting-room, which were getting rather frayed at the edges …
Waving goodbye to John, Ellie crossed the church grounds to the rambling late Victorian vicarage. Built of red brick, it had imposing gables and a semi-circular gravel driveway.
Inside the tiled porch were a number of bell-pushes. Press One for the vicar, Two for the curate and Three for the office. She pressed One and was almost knocked over as the Reverend Gilbert careered out of the front door, hair awry, with his arms full of sheet music.
‘Ellie, my dear!’
Ellie stepped back. ‘I can see you’re busy! Another time.’ He freed an arm to put it through hers, and swept her out and across
the road.
‘Just the girl we need. Carol singing. Practice. Short of sopranos,
would you believe? You can give us a couple of hours, can’t you? Monday
evenings, 6.30.’
‘No, no!’ Ellie began to laugh. ‘You know I told you I can’t hold a tune—’ ‘Doesn’t matter, carol singing. Do you good. Hold these.’ Dumping
the music in her arms, he started feeling for something in his pockets. Then stopped. ‘Meant to ask. Did you see Mrs Hanna? I’ve just come out of a meeting and someone was saying something about her but I wasn’t
attending, I’m afraid.’
‘She’s gone missing. They think murdered, but—’
‘Murdered!’ His glance switched to the side door of the church, and
then over the alley towards the house in which Kate was hiding behind
drawn curtains.
‘No, it wasn’t her, I’m sure of it,’ said Ellie.
His eyebrows danced a tango, indicating scepticism. ‘Then … who?’
He set himself in motion again, finally producing a vestry key from a
waistcoat pocket. Unlocking the door, he led the way into a cold, dustysmelling room lined with clergy and choir robes.
Ellie followed him because he was expecting her to do so, and
because she was still holding the pile of sheet music. ‘It’s a mystery,
I know. There are all sorts of rumours …’
‘Shouldn’t listen to rumours.’
He led the way into the main body of the church, took the music from
her and dumped it in a choir pew. Ellie’s eyes went to the altar. The red
carpet which had covered the area in front of the altar was gone,
exposing the original black and white tiles. It was only her imagination
that there was a dark stain where she supposed the body must have
lain.
The vicar saw where she was looking. ‘Yes, poor fellow. He lay just
there. Gave me a fright. Mrs Dawes, too. But Mrs Dawes seems all right
now. Bullying everyone as usual on Sunday. How about you?’ He seated himself in a pew, patting the padded cushion beside him.
He seemed to have all the time in the world to talk. It was one of his
greatest strengths, that he could do this. He was probably due at another
meeting, thought Ellie. He’d be late for it, but perhaps he had his priorities right. Weren’t people more important than meetings? The bereaved think so, anyway.
She sat beside him. She wanted to tell him how confused she
was by the provisions of Frank’s will, and Diana’s behaviour. She
thought he’d sympathize, tell her to be tough with Diana, make her
refund the value of the car. But did she really want to do that? No, of
course not.
She must talk to Diana, see how much money she needed to get
straight again and arrange for it to be given her.
She said, ‘I’ve just been to see my solicitor. He says I shall have
enough to stay where I am. If I’m careful.’ Now why did she have to add the rider? The vicar wasn’t going to ask her for money, was he? How
horrid of her to deceive him.
‘Now Ellie, I’ve been thinking about this, and I don’t like the thought of
your scrimping and saving to make ends meet. I’m glad you can stay in
the house because I know you love it, but when the bills start coming in,
and there’s no one to pay them … well, that’s where friends come in.’ Did he mean he’d lend her money? Oh, the embarrassment! ‘Oh, no!’ she said, reddening. ‘I didn’t, couldn’t … there’s really no
need! I’m going to be quite comfortably off, it seems.’
‘Bless you, my dear! I hope you are. But just in case, would you consider
taking a lodger? I don’t have anyone special in mind at the moment, but …’ ‘That’s kind of you, very kind. But at the moment …’
‘... you don’t know whether you’re on your head or your heels.’ ‘No, I don’t. And you know, I really must be going. I want to ring Diana
tonight.’
She stood up, to indicate that she really must go. He hauled himself to
his feet – awkwardly, his arthritis must be playing up again – and kissed
her on both cheeks. ‘You’ll do,’ he said.
Going up the path to her own house, Ellie looked up at the back bedroom of Kate’s house. The curtains were still drawn. It was dusk now, not raining for once. A vicious cold wind was lifting
her skirt and crawling down her neck. She let herself into the house.
Cold. Dark. No Tod. No Frank.
Don’t give way to self-pity.
Unpack your shopping.
Lay out some salad for supper. She could really do with something
hot to eat, even though she had had such a good lunch at the Sunflower. Someone had put a note through the front door. Mrs Dawes, reminding Ellie about coming to her flower class on Thursdays. Nice of her, though of course Ellie couldn’t go because she’d be at the charity shop.
The house felt like a cold shroud, settling around her shoulders. She bumped up the central heating, made herself a cup of Bovril. Put the radio on.
Sat down at Frank’s desk in Frank’s chair to ring Diana. Diana very rarely rang home, expecting her parents to bear the cost of
the phone bills. As Diana said, they could afford it, couldn’t they? Ellie found she was gripping the phone so tightly that she began to shake. Of course she loved Diana. She was her only daughter. But how dared she take the car when she knew her father had left her enough money to buy another one! Was she so much in debt that she couldn’t wait for her legacy to come through? Couldn’t she have explained it to Ellie?
Just because Frank had always doted on her … never criticizing her, even when Diana had been rude to him …
… and always criticizing Ellie, even in front of Diana …
She let the phone crash back on to its base. Anger didn’t help anyone.
She must be calm. Be reasonable.
Diana had asked permission to take the car, and Ellie had given it. She hadn’t really been thinking straight at the time. No. But that didn’t alter the facts.
Blowing her nose, Ellie considered not phoning her daughter that night. But finally did it. She would be very calm and understanding about Diana’s money situation and they would work something out together. Diana had been so sweet, so caring about her since the funeral, Ellie was sure they had begun a new and better relationship.
Unfortunately, Diana seemed to have lost all her sweetness and light since they last spoke. For starters, she was surprised to get the call.
‘Mother? Anything wrong? You usually ring on Thursdays … this is only Wednesday, isn’t it? Has something happened?’
Ellie thought of everything that had been happening to her: the murder, Kate’s visit, the possibility of taking over the charity shop, the accident to that poor man on the bridge, buying a new bed; finding Mrs Hanna missing, visiting the solicitor … then John saying that Madam was staying on at the shop, and everyone blaming Kate …
‘I just wanted to talk to you, dear, if you can spare a moment.’
‘Well, if it’s really important … you know I have to go out on Wednesday nights. Oh, didn’t I tell you? We’ve been invited to play bridge with some neighbours, very nice people, got one of those new top executive detached houses up by the bridge … oh yes, and I’m putting some details of flats around here into the post for you. Stewart and I spent ages last weekend going around them.’
Ellie clutched at her sanity. ‘I didn’t know you were planning to move, dear.’
‘No, of course not. Really mother, you are the end. It’s for you, of course. Something not too far away, where you can get to the shops easily and come here to babysit. Perhaps one bus stop away. We found just the thing for you in—’
‘But I don’t want to move.’
Diana sighed. Ellie could just imagine her raising her eyes to heaven in annoyance.
‘Don’t be silly, mother. You can’t possibly stay where you are now. As I said, I’ve popped some details in the post and you can pick the ones you like best at your leisure. I know you don’t like being rushed into things. So I thought you could come up next week, Tuesday perhaps, and have a look at the best of the flats. Stay till Thursday …’
Yes, thought Ellie, so that I can babysit for you on Wednesday?
She said, with a firmness that surprised her, ‘I’m sorry, my dear, but that won’t be possible. I have commitments here, you know. At the shop. To the vicar, and so on. I’m going to join the church choir. Did I tell you? No, I know I can’t sing very well, but it’s just Christmas carols. I’m sure I can manage that.’
Diana was not pleased. ‘Really, mother, when we’ve been to all this trouble, telling the estate agent that you’ll be up next week. We’re going to look very foolish if you don’t come …’
Ellie was beginning to get annoyed. ‘Well, you shouldn’t have done it, should you, dear? Not without asking me. I have a lot to do down here. In fact, you should be proud of me. I’ve even been trying to work your father’s computer—’
‘That’s ridiculous, mother! You’ll never be able to do that. In fact, I was only saying to Stewart yesterday that he must arrange to collect it from you some time, as we could do with a second one. It will be nice for the little one to play games on in a year or two—’
Ellie put the phone down with exaggerated care.
She was so angry she didn’t know what to do with herself.
She clutched at her shoulders, shivering. She hoped she wasn’t going down with anything. Widows often did, she had noticed. They developed abscesses, laryngitis, asthma, tummy troubles. They always seemed to be on antibiotics. She’d go and have a nice long hot bath. And pour lots of bubbly stuff in. And soak.
The phone rang again.
Ellie cast it a look of dislike and turned her back on it. If it was Diana, well, she could wait. The answerphone was on. Diana could talk to that. Ellie could hear a message being recorded as she went upstairs. It only went quiet when she ran the bath water. Good. Diana had given up because she would have to get ready for her date with her new highflying friends.
Ellie set her radio on the toilet seat, turned the dial to some soothing music, poured in a generous amount of bubble bath, slipped into the water and lay there, unwinding.
She thought, I really am enjoying this!
It surprised her that she could enjoy something so soon after Frank’s death. Of course, she would never have been able to take a hot bath at such an early hour of the day if he were still around. At this time of day he would have been bustling back from work, fussing about having a cooked supper on time, worrying away at his papers for whatever meeting he was going out to that evening …
Ah well, there were compensations in being a widow. You could go out for lunch to the Sunflowers café, and not cook in the evening.
Fancy him trying to protect her from Aunt Drusilla like that! He had been a lovely man, in so many ways. And she would not cry. No.
Ellie let herself sink under the water completely, and blew bubbles.
As she surfaced, she thought she heard the phone ringing. It couldn’t be Diana. Well, she couldn’t be bothered to get out of the bath now.
Then the doorbell rang.
Drat!
Ellie climbed out of the bath, hoping that whoever it was would go away again. They didn’t. They rang again. She towelled herself roughly dry, and reached for her old dressing-gown and fluffy slippers.
‘Hold on! I’m coming!’
She descended the stairs in a warm cloud of scented steam. Two people stood outside the front door, a workman with a badge dangling from his breast pocket, carrying a large toolbox, and Kate, looking pinched and cold, huddled into a big black coat.
Kate said, ‘I was just going out to get some fish and chips, and wondered if you’d like some. Oh, and the gas man says there’s a leak been reported, wants to check your supply.’
8
‘I haven’t reported any leak,’ said Ellie. ‘Kate, do come in for a minute. I’ve been wanting to speak to you.’ And to the workman, ‘Sorry you’ve been troubled.’
The man mounted the doorstep and pushed at the front door which Ellie was holding, trying to keep the cold weather out.
‘Listen, missus, I’ve got to check it out. Once a leak is reported, it’s as much as my job’s worth to skip a house.’
Kate sa
id, ‘Oh, do you want to do mine as well? My husband’s just come back and he can show you where everything is.’
Armand was just getting out of his car. Kate turned to Ellie with a ravishing smile. ‘Yes, I’d love to come in for a few minutes, if I may.’
The workman looked thunderous.
‘What’s this?’ asked Armand, storming down the path. His eyes were on Kate even though the question seemed directed at the workman. He was evidently in a shocking temper.
‘Gas leak somewhere,’ said Kate, smiling vaguely in his direction but not at him. ‘Will you let him check out our place? I’m just going to spend a little time with Ellie.’
‘Hurry up,’ said Ellie, beginning to shiver. ‘I’ve just got out of a hot bath.’ Then to the workman, ‘Look, you can come in and check if you’re quick. My husband installed one of those gadgets which show if there’s a gas leak, but it hasn’t gone off so there can’t be anything wrong with our supply.’
At that point Ellie noticed something. ‘Oh! May I see your identification papers, please?’
By this time Kate had joined Ellie in the hall. ‘What?’
Ellie held out her hand, meeting the workman’s eyes with what he afterwards described as a steely glare. He didn’t realize he was catching the tail end of Typhoon Diana.
He took a step back. ‘Who d’you think I am?’
‘Possibly not who you say you are,’ said Ellie. ‘Are gas board employees allowed to smoke on the job? You’ve got the butt end of a cigarette lodged behind your right ear. Householders are always being told to be careful, ask for ID. So where’s your papers?’
The man looked around for inspiration and found all three of them looking at him with suspicion.
Armand grimaced, showing fine white teeth. ‘Shall I phone the police?’
The workman backed away. ‘It’s true I got no ID on me. I left it in the van. But it’s getting late …’
‘Yes, that’s another thing,’ said Ellie. ‘It’s well after six o’clock. I’m sure you shouldn’t be working this late.’
‘You’re right. I’ll be off then. Be back tomorrow sometime.’ He walked back to the road and turned left. They watched him out of sight.
Murder at the Altar Page 11