Rose added her voice. ‘Yes, you do look tired, Ellie.’
That did it. Telling someone they looked tired was guaranteed to make them feel a hundred and ten. Ellie decided to put Rose’s welfare before having an argument about the unwisdom of taking an elderly, frail woman out of the house in the rain. Besides which, she had to admit that she herself was in no shape for a confrontation with Claire.
‘Very well. I won’t be long.’ She dragged herself upstairs only to find her bed, the bed in which she and Thomas slept, had been moved to stand under the windows which overlooked the back garden.
Oh, really! But she was too tired to make a fuss tonight. She unpacked, showered and changed into a warm skirt and jumper. When she descended to the kitchen again, there was no sign of Claire, but some home-made soup had been heated up and left warming through on the hob, a nut roast was cooking in the oven and some vegetables were steaming on the side. A note on the table said that now Ellie had returned, Claire had gone out for the evening but would be back later.
Well, perhaps it was just as well to postpone the unpleasantness.
Ellie ladled some soup into a mug and took it through to Rose, who had drifted off to sleep but woke with a start when Ellie sat down beside her bed.
‘What time is it, Ellie? It’s lovely to have you back.’
‘Supper time. I haven’t a clue which day of the week it is. Let’s sit you up so you can have your soup.’
Rose took a sip of soup. Her hand was shaking. ‘Nice soup.’
‘There’s a nut roast for afters.’
‘I’ll just have the soup. I lost count of the days, kept asking Claire when you’d be back. She’s been very good to me, you know.’
‘She’s looked after you well?’ Ellie didn’t mean to sound doubtful, but she could hear the reservations in her voice.
So could Rose. ‘I think so.’ Again, her voice dragged. Then she made an effort. She pulled herself up the pillows. ‘She’s done her best. She’s been sleeping in my old room upstairs, so that she could hear my little bell ring if I needed her in the night. Which I haven’t. Don’t be too hard on her. She’s had a difficult time with her family and all.’ Her hand in Ellie’s was warm enough. Perhaps she hadn’t taken any great harm by the outing. Her eyes closed.
Ellie had forgotten that Rose had always gone to church in the old days and loved the hymns. She’d often been heard singing about the house, particularly when she was cooking. Over the years she’d gone out less and less, and her church attendance had dropped away.
Ellie was annoyed with herself. She ought to have seen to it that Rose had been able to get to church, but this and that had happened, and, well, she’d let it slide from her mind. Too much else to think about.
No, she ought to have thought of it. She winced.
The two women had met when they were both working in the charity shop in the Avenue, and they had found common cause in their efforts to deal with bossy daughters. Then Ellie’s difficult, wealthy Aunt Drusilla had needed someone to look after her in her declining years and, unlikely as it had seemed at first, Rose had happily slipped into the role and made it her own. Rose and Miss Quicke had been good for one another, and when the older lady had died and left her big house to Ellie, she’d also left Rose well provided for. Instead of going off to live by herself, Rose had decided to stay on as Ellie’s housekeeper and had become part of the family.
Rose had gradually – oh, so gradually – faded with the passing years. Recently she had begun to ‘see’ and converse with the late Miss Quicke. A harmless eccentricity.
Ellie took the mug of soup out of Rose’s hand lest it fall to the floor. She let her eyes walk around the room. It was clean and dust-free. Rose’s bedclothes were fresh. There was a carafe and glass on her bedside table. Plenty of water in it. Beside that was the little silver bell which Miss Quicke had been accustomed to use when she needed attention. It was ironic that Rose, who had once answered its summons, was now using it to summon others to her side. That made Ellie smile.
Ellie laid Rose’s hand back on the duvet and turned the television on, low. The house was still cold. Old people need warmth. She checked the thermostat in the hall, only to find that someone – presumably Claire – had turned it down to zero.
How annoying! Ellie turned it back up again. She told herself that she must keep calm. She was overtired, and this was such a little thing. If the woman had really been looking after Rose well – except for taking her out of the house like that – then Ellie mustn’t prejudge matters. It would be easy enough to tell Claire that she liked the house to be kept warm. Anger was not helpful. She must fight it. She tried, and lost the fight.
Bother the woman!
She warmed up Rose’s mug of soup in the microwave and drank it herself. It wasn’t bad soup, possibly a trifle on the sweet side, but all right.
Then the phone rang, and it was Thomas, ringing to see if she’d returned safely. He was full of the welcome he’d received in Chicago and how he’d met up with two old friends, whom he hadn’t seen for ages …
Ellie forgot about Claire for a while. Sufficient to the day, etcetera.
She ate some of the nut roast – far too dry. Unappetizing. Then bed beckoned. She was worn out, but didn’t think she’d sleep. Jet lag. How long before she would feel normal again?
Tuesday morning
Ellie had set the alarm as usual. Best not to give in to jet lag. Oh dear. Was it morning already? She reached for Thomas and remembered that he was still on the other side of the Atlantic. She’d slept surprisingly well. She listened out for the grandfather clock in the hall to chime the hour, but of course it couldn’t, because it had been moved.
What was the time? What day of the week was it? Thomas wasn’t here. Rose, so frail. Claire, so bossy. Claire, whom Diana had indicated might be a murderess! Ouch!
Ellie sat up and nearly fell out of bed. Disorientation!
Of course, the bed had been moved from its usual position. And the room was cold. Don’t say that Claire had turned the heating off again!
Now that really was annoying.
On with the day. Oh, bother! She’d just remembered she’d used the last of the tea bags the previous evening, and there was no instant coffee. She must make a list and go to the shops that morning.
The whine of a vacuum cleaner greeted her as she went down the stairs. A strange woman whisked herself across the hall and disappeared.
Ellie cried, ‘Stop!’ but the woman had gone. The noise of the vacuum cleaner must have drowned out Ellie’s voice. The heavy door to the kitchen quarters – which was always kept open so that Ellie and Thomas could hear if Rose rang her bell – was now closed, and the door to the conservatory at the back of the hall … what on earth was happening there? Was that washing hanging up to dry inside? Had the tumble-drier broken?
What was going on?
Ellie clutched her arms around herself. The house was chilly, and there was a nasty draught from somewhere. Ellie’s dander was well and truly up.
She marched into the sitting room, to find two young women on their knees, polishing the floorboards. Both were black and wearing black: loose T-shirts with some kind of logo on them and long, loose trousers. They were complete strangers.
Where were her usual cleaning team?
Ellie said, ‘Who are you?’
The older of the two frowned. ‘What?’
Ellie blinked. ‘I’m Mrs Quicke. This is my house. I repeat: who are you?’
‘We don’t know nothing about a Mrs Quicke. We got our schedule, and we stick to it. Twice a week, two hours a time. And we don’t stand no nonsense from no one.’
Ellie gaped. ‘Who has given you those orders?’
‘Claire did. Now if you don’t mind, you’re holding us up.’
Ellie swallowed hard and made her way into the kitchen. Rose wasn’t up yet. Claire was nowhere to be seen. The thermostat had been turned right down on the wall. Again. Grrr!
Ellie r
eturned it to its normal position.
She looked in on Rose, who was beginning to stir. ‘Rose, are you awake?’
Rose smiled and opened her eyes. ‘Lovely to have you back, dear. I had such a funny dream. I thought you’d gone away for good, and I was drifting away into the clouds.’
Ellie patted Rose’s hand. ‘I’m back, but I am a bit confused. We seem to have changed our cleaners.’
A look of incomprehension. Then memory stirred at the back of Rose’s eyes. ‘Oh, yes, dear. They were rude to Claire, so she had to tell them not to come again. Claire knew these two lovely girls from church, and they’re going to look after us instead.’
Ellie clutched at her sanity. ‘We’ve had our cleaners for ever. I can’t believe they would have been rude to anyone, or not without reason.’
Rose sat upright, some vestige of animation returning to her. ‘They called Claire a really bad word that I don’t want to repeat. They said she ought to be in prison. Claire was so upset. She said we should pay them off, and I did it out of my own money, which was only right, dear, because as you know, Miss Quicke left me very well off, and you’ve been paying me a wage all along which you hadn’t ought to do, especially since I’ve retired from being a full-time housekeeper for you, what with your getting young Vera in to act as housekeeper instead of me, and by the way, she’s been popping round from her own house every other day to see if I’m all right, and so has that young limb of hers, Mikey. Mikey says his mum’s working at reception in the hotel next door almost full time now. Where was I? Oh, yes. I’ve never had a chance to pay you back for all your care of me until now, so I was really glad to stand up for poor Claire, and I want you to tell her that her job is safe here, and that we won’t allow anyone else to call her a murderess.’
Ellie tried to disguise her concern. ‘May I ask who it is she’s supposed to have murdered?’
‘No one we know, dear. Just a silly girl who went missing, chasing after some pop star or other, but it was all a false alarm and she surfaced again later to say she was perfectly all right. Ten to one, she’ll come home again when her boyfriend runs out of money.’
TWO
Ellie wanted to scream. A girl had gone missing, and Claire was accused of having murdered her? No, not murder. But … Claire had had something to do with a girl going AWOL? And Rose didn’t seem to think this important?
Ellie wanted to hit Rose over her head – not that that would do any good.
Ellie considered a number of other options, such as taking a whip and driving the two new cleaners out of her house, but she didn’t possess a whip, and even if she’d had one, she’d probably trip over it while trying to flourish it over someone’s head. And suppose she actually caught one of the women with the tip of her whip and cut her?
No, that didn’t bear thinking about, either.
Ellie was reduced to saying that she’d have words with the cleaning agency as soon as they opened for the day, but in the meantime she would like Rose to tell the new girls that Ellie was mistress of the house and decided what temperature it was to be at, and they were not to move the furniture around without permission.
Rose’s spurt of energy drained away, and she fell back among her pillows. In a dead voice she said, ‘Claire told them to, for some reason. She did explain it to me, but I can’t remember why. I’m getting old, Ellie. Old and forgetful.’
Ellie was alarmed. This was the first time Rose had complained of her age. ‘Well, never mind all that for the moment. Are you getting up this morning, Rose? Do you fancy some breakfast?’
‘I’ll be up in a little while, though I’m not really hungry nowadays.’
Ellie went back through the kitchen – no sign of Claire – and turned up the thermostat, noting that the kitchen was in a mess, with dirty plates left in the sink, and the floor needing a good seeing-to. Ellie went in search of the new cleaners. They’d finished in the sitting room, leaving the window open on a cold, wet morning. Ellie shut the window with a bang and moved on to the dining room. This was a room which nowadays was only used for the weekly meetings of the trust which Ellie administered. Here, another open window was blowing the long curtains awry, and the massive table had been dismantled, the leaves taken out and the two D-ends placed against the wall, leaving the centre of the room clear. Why? The eight dining chairs were now being polished, piece by piece.
Ellie coughed to attract the cleaners’ attention. One of the women looked up, caught the other’s eye and bent back to her work.
Ellie said, as pleasantly as she could, ‘Good morning. I’m afraid I don’t know your names.’
‘I’m Dolores,’ said the older one of the two. Stick thin, looked as if she could do with a good meal or two. ‘She’s –’ indicating the younger woman – ‘Liddy.’
Liddy bobbed her head up, rubbed the side of her face and returned to her work.
‘Very well, Dolores,’ said Ellie. ‘I’ve had a word with Rose about employing you. I can’t say that I’m happy about the situation, but I will be looking into it and I will let you know as soon as possible whether or not I shall want to have you again. Meanwhile, I’d like you to return the furniture you’ve moved back to its original positions and put the kitchen to rights.’
Both women stopped what they were doing. Liddy looked sideways at Dolores. The older one spoke, as before, for both of them. ‘We have our schedules from Claire. Today we polish in here. Monday we do the kitchen.’
‘I understand why you followed Claire’s orders in my absence, but that won’t do now I’m back. Where is she?’
Again, the two women glanced at one another. ‘She was called in to account for herself,’ said the younger woman. Ellie wondered what ‘Liddy’ was short for.
Dolores gave her a dark look with pursed lips, and Liddy reddened. ‘We wouldn’t know, would we?’
Yet it was obvious that they did know something, even if they were not prepared to say what it was.
Dolores said, ‘We have to get on. Missus Rose will give us our money when we finish here, and then we’ll move on to our next job.’
‘Now I’m back, I’ll be paying you.’
‘Our contract is with Missus Rose.’
Defeated, Ellie retired to the kitchen. There was still no sign of Claire.
Rose was stirring next door. Ellie helped her to dress. Oh, how pitiful it was to see Rose fumble with her clothes in a way she’d never had to do before. Rose liked old, comfortable clothes and wore them till they were fit for nothing but the rag bag, with a button off here and the elastic loose there. Whether Rose liked it or not, Ellie was going to get some new things for her. Ellie was angry with herself for having left her old friend for so long and angry – she had to admit – with Rose for deteriorating so fast. And angry with Claire and, well, everyone.
Which wasn’t like her. She set about making breakfast for herself and Rose; cereal, soft boiled eggs and toast with fruit juice, as there was neither tea nor coffee to be had. Ellie started to make a list of what was needed, doing her best to ignore the mess around her. The floor was a disgrace, and so was the oven top! As for the sink!
There was still no sign of Claire by the time breakfast had been eaten. ‘Rose, dear, the new cleaners mentioned a contract. May I see your copy?’
Rose was vague. ‘I don’t think I had one, did I? I pay them with a cheque each time. It’s almost the first time I’ve used a chequebook in all the years I’ve had it. Tell the truth, I’d almost forgotten I had one, and Claire had to show me how to fill it in.’
Ellie controlled herself with an effort. She was going to do something nasty to Claire when that conniving con woman eventually chose to show herself, if she ever did. Taking advantage of Rose like that! It was iniquitous. ‘How much do you pay them each time?’
‘I’m not sure. Is it ten pounds an hour each?’
That was on the high side, but just about acceptable. ‘What is the length of the contract?’
Rose’s gaze wandered. ‘Was i
t three months, or six? It’s all right, isn’t it? I haven’t done anything stupid, have I? I’m afraid I’m getting a bit forgetful.’
Ellie let out her breath slowly. Very slowly. There was no point in taking her anger out on Rose. She made herself smile. ‘Thank you, Rose. You’ve done exactly the right thing, but now I’m back I shall be responsible for paying the cleaners, just as I used to be. Now, was there anything else?’
Rose fumbled her way into her big chair and lay back with a sigh of relief. ‘I don’t think so. That secretary of yours, Pat, she said she’d start work again when you got back, so to ring her when you do as she was going to take time off to visit someone in Scotland, not that I think she has relatives there, or maybe it was the Isle of Man. She’ll be back by now, I think. She said she’d leave a note for you in your study.’
A pity. Correspondence would have piled up in Pat’s absence. Well, it couldn’t be helped. Ellie rubbed her arms. Why was the house so cold, still? She checked the thermostat. It had been turned down again. She couldn’t believe it. She heard herself grinding her teeth, which is something she never, ever did, because the dentist said it set up all sorts of problems. She turned the thermostat back up. Who was it that kept turning it down? Not Rose, who felt the cold. So, the cleaners?
She looked around. She was missing something – somebody – else. ‘Where’s Midge?’ Ellie had been adopted by a marauding ginger tom, who usually sprang into sight, demanding food, whenever she entered the kitchen. Ellie realized with a bump of dismay that she hadn’t seen him since her return.
Rose sighed. ‘Claire has a thing about cats. Allergies. I usually let him in when she goes out. It’s all right, I leave food for him in that covered-over bit in the yard, and Mikey says he goes over the wall to the hotel next door, where they’ve been making a fuss of him.’
Ellie went to the back door. The cat flap had been locked. She unlocked it. She was building up a head of steam about Claire.
The elder of the cleaners … Dolores?… sidled into the kitchen, followed by Liddy, whose eyes were half closed, and who was clutching the side of her face. Dolores said, ‘We’re ready to go now.’
Murder by Suspicion Page 2