“But I can’t help it. We want a baby more than anything. Every month I take a test, and it’s so depressing when it’s negative.”
After twenty minutes, Pam washed Jane’s hair and cut two inches off before blow-drying it with a large bristle brush into a short page-boy style. She refused to charge her, but Jane insisted that she take ten pounds. She wasn’t sure about the way Pam had styled her hair, and it looked much blonder, but she thought that after she had played around with it, it would be more to her satisfaction.
Jane decided to have an early night, and was looking forward to seeing Natalie again in the morning. She was glad that she had seen her parents and Pam, and felt more relaxed after all the security precautions and pressure she had been under. She didn’t get home until after 8pm, parking her car a short distance from her flat and getting the usual nod from the plainclothes officers on watch as she opened the front door. Crowley, for all his tough blustering manner, had kept his word when he’d told her father he intended to maintain the protection until the ASU members were arrested.
At eleven o’clock the following morning, Jane drove to Natalie’s via St. John’s Wood and into Belsize Avenue. She managed to park close to number 44 and walked up to the large, imposing, four-story house, then descended the steps to the basement.
Natalie opened the front door almost immediately after Jane pressed the doorbell. She was bare footed and wearing an apron over her jeans and t-shirt.
“Hi there! You found me. Come on in.”
Jane wished she’d bought a bunch of flowers, but it hadn’t occurred to her. Natalie seemed so pleased to see her, helping her off with her coat and hanging it on a hook in the narrow hallway.
“It’s small, but it’s all my own,” Natalie said, as she drew Jane into a lovely living room with French windows over-looking steps up to a walled garden.
The living room was full, with bright fabric-covered chairs and a two-seater sofa by a low pine coffee table. There was a fireplace with wooden logs and a coal bucket beside it. The walls were lined with bookshelves and there was a cabinet filled with pottery, colored glass miniatures and rows of wine glasses. There were some rather amateurish oil paintings, and stacks of magazines. It was a warm and cozy room. Natalie had lit some scented candles and the glow and smell made the room feel welcoming.
Natalie opened the French windows and stepped outside. Stone steps led up to a flourishing plant bed and there was a bench and wooden table. There were numerous potted herbs and bulbs, but a lot of the flowering plants were no longer in season. On the table there were empty bottles of wine holding melted candles, and the paved area had moss growing between the cracks. A large oak tree dominated the end of the garden and shaded most of the patio.
“I eat out here when the weather’s good, but come on back to my favorite place: the kitchen.”
“How long have you lived here?” Jane asked, as she followed Natalie back inside.
“Five years. It needs quite a lot doing to it, and as it’s a basement it gets a bit on the damp side. But I love lighting a fire in the winter. It’s cozy, which is important to me. I bought most of the furniture from charity shops.”
They went into the narrow hall and Natalie pointed to a closed door.
“That’s my bedroom. I have my mother’s old quilt, and my desk and a portable typewriter, but it needs some more wardrobe space. I’ll get it sorted one day.”
Jane had expected the basement flat to be dark, but when she followed Natalie into the kitchen it was surprisingly light.
“This is the best part. The previous occupant went to great lengths to modernize the kitchen and put in the big window.”
Jane was impressed. The kitchen was painted a bright blue, with a fridge freezer, large cooker with an extractor hood, and a wide sink with wooden draining boards. There was a painted old-fashioned wide-legged table, with four hard backed painted chairs with bright cushions on the seats. Tall glass fronted cabinets were filled with crockery, and wide drawers beneath with cooking equipment.
“Every available inch has been used for storage. I have a washing machine and dryer tucked in the little recess, so it’s very compact. But as I love cooking I spend most of my time in here.”
“I think it’s lovely. It has a sort of country cottage feel.”
“Yes, exactly. You’d never think we were in the basement. I bought it because of the little garden. At one time it must have been three times the size but the properties backing onto it have the rest. I was going to get a cat, but I just never got around to it, like all the redecorating I keep on meaning to do!”
Natalie had fetched two mugs and put the kettle on. As she showed off the kitchen, she brewed up some fresh coffee in a small percolator and opened a tin to take out a packet of biscuits, placing them down on the table.
“Sit down. We’ll have a cup of coffee and then I can talk you through what you would like to cook for our lunch. I bought a variety of ingredients for you to choose from, but I think we won’t get too extravagant to begin with, and stick to something basic. I’ve got chicken, liver, bacon and some fresh minced meat to maybe make spaghetti bolognaise. It depends what you’d like to start off with.”
“I’m speechless. This is so kind of you! Let’s make spaghetti bolognaise as I really love it, but I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Well, we’ll make the sauce first. I’ve got all the tomatoes, onions and garlic, and then we’ve got some fresh pasta.”
Natalie poured them both a coffee, placed milk and sugar on the table and sat opposite Jane. She delved into her pocket and took out a packet of cigarettes.
“Hope you don’t mind. Do you smoke?”
“No, I don’t, but please go ahead.”
Natalie took out a long, thin, white tipped cigarette.
“I want to give up so I started on these, but I’ve got so used to them. They’re menthol. It’s sort of like smoking a polo mint.”
She lit up and fetched an ashtray as Jane poured some milk into her coffee and ate a custard cream. Natalie drank her coffee black, and laughed as she added three sugars.
“I’ve got a terrible sweet tooth. This is very strong Columbian coffee, so I try to limit myself to just a few cups a day.”
“Do you live here all by yourself?” Jane asked.
“Well, most of the time. My last relationship went on for a couple of years. He was very easy going but this is a tiny flat and even though he only stayed at weekends I was often pleased to have the place back to myself on Mondays.”
“I was at dinner with a friend the other night, and I’ve never seen such a sophisticated flat. It was a sort of ultra-modern design and was very unexpected. I thought we were going to a restaurant, but after picking up fish and chips he drove us to his flat. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever felt so inadequate, because he was so capable, and . . .” She giggled.
“Why were you feeling inadequate?”
“Oh, it was just so sophisticated and I’d worn this awful suit, fawn trousers with a safari jacket.” Jane drained her cup of coffee and continued, “I don’t know what made me wear it. I felt so old-fashioned, and couldn’t think of anything interesting to say.”
“You aren’t old fashioned at all. I like what you’ve had done to your hair. What does this friend do?”
“He’s one of the officers, not in the same team but sort of working alongside me in the Dip Squad.”
“Dip Squad? What on earth is that?”
Jane stood up abruptly and screeched as her coffee cup turned over. Natalie immediately reached for a napkin as Jane deftly put her hand into Natalie’s handbag, which was on the arm of the dining chair, and took out her wallet and held it up between two fingers.
“You see, I just got your wallet because I distracted you with my coffee cup. There was no coffee in it.”
There was an unpleasant moment as Natalie snatched her wallet back. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I was just dipping you to explain
how pickpockets work. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”
Natalie’s face relaxed. “Oh no, you haven’t! This dippy squad sounds outrageous. So, tell me, what work does this designer house bloke do?”
“He’s a DS on the bomb squad and he’s got quite a bad reputation when it comes to women. But it’s been extraordinary lately. I’ve gone from having nobody showing the slightest interest in me to a date with him. And I think my DCI is sort of interested as well. And there’s also a lovely man called Michael Mitchell, who’s a charge nurse at St. Thomas’ Hospital, where I met you.”
Natalie rinsed their coffee mugs and began to open cupboards and take out all the ingredients required to make the Bolognese sauce.
“Well, you can now invite any one of them over to your flat to have dinner. My mother always used to say that the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
Natalie handed Jane an apron, then got out a large chopping board and a sharp knife. Jane watched as Natalie peeled and sliced the onion into fine sections. She showed Jane how to squash and chop garlic cloves and let her have a go at it herself. Natalie got a large pan, poured in some olive oil, turned on the gas and scraped in the garlic and onions from the chopping board. She handed Jane a wooden spoon, told her to keep the gas low and keep stirring until the onions were see-through.
Jane was enjoying herself as Natalie put in the mincemeat. When it was browned she let Jane add some diced tomatoes, herbs and tomato puree, then after giving it a good stir they left it to simmer. Natalie uncorked a bottle of red wine while Jane was stirring the Bolognese.
“I’ve bought freshly made pasta, which will only take about five minutes. You need to test if it is cooked through, but it should be what the Italians call al dente, or slightly firm.”
Natalie lit another cigarette while Jane kept on stirring the sauce, then put the pasta into the boiling water.
“So, now you know how to make spaghetti Bolognese! You should serve it in a bowl with some grated parmesan cheese on top and garlic bread. It should be crispy, not soggy when it comes out the oven.”
They sat at the table with glasses of wine. A large ceramic bowl contained the finished spaghetti Bolognese, with two serving spoons beside it. The garlic bread was laid out on a large warmed plate, and looked and smelled delicious.
“Bon appetite!” Natalie said, as they clinked glasses. Jane enjoyed everything, and was surprised at how simple it had been to prepare.
“Thanks Natalie, I really appreciate you showing me how to cook this. It’s not as difficult as I thought it would be.”
“Next lesson will be a roast chicken with stuffing. But I think you’ve now learned enough to entertain your male suitors. So, tell me, which one’s your favorite and what’s he look like?”
“He’s a detective sergeant, tall, blonde, blue-eyed and drives a Porsche. I don’t think he’s that interested in me, but he might . . .” Jane already felt that she had said too much.
Natalie leaned forward across the table. “Did you sleep with him?”
“No!”
“What about the other two. The nurse from the hospital?”
“Good heavens, no! I shouldn’t really even be talking about them.”
“Why not? What about the DCI. Is he sexy?”
Jane felt a trifle uncomfortable.
“He’s very attractive. There’s a big black-tie event coming up in the CID, and he asked if . . . well, he sort of suggested he accompany me.”
“Is he married? Are any of them married?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I had a long scene with a married man and I swore I would never, ever, be dumb enough to do it again. You know, I got the same old story that he was going to leave his wife but he never did. I don’t think he had any intention of leaving her, but I was very hurt. So, this black-tie do. Have you decided what you’re going to wear?”
“No, I haven’t given it a thought. But it’s full evening gowns so it’ll have to be a long dress.”
“I tell you what you should do: I’ll give you the address of a special place in the King’s Road where you can hire a dress. Some of them are really spectacular and it’ll cost less than forking out for something you might only wear once. Where is the ball being held?”
“I’m not sure. To be honest I’m not even certain of the exact date, but it’s a formal dinner and I believe it’s a very popular night with all the CID officers and their wives.”
Natalie lit another cigarette, and started to clear the plates.
“Let me help you,” Jane said, jumping up. “If you could give me the address for that dress hire place I’d be grateful. I’ve decided my entire wardrobe needs an overhaul, and I am going to chuck out that terrible safari suit.”
“Just remember that you shouldn’t dress to please a man, you should do it for yourself. If you think you look good and you feel confident then whatever they think is immaterial. So sayeth my dear departed mother, who once . . .”
Natalie started to laugh, as Jane ran the hot water into the sink to begin washing the dishes.
“She once said to me, in a very confidential manner, that if I wanted to know what kind of a body a man had . . .” She giggled again, and Jane couldn’t help joining in.
“I was gobsmacked because I couldn’t think of what she was going to come out with! But she whispered to me that I should go swimming with him, as you can tell what kind of body he has in a pair of swimming trunks! And do you know how often I’ve thought about that when I’ve been having sex, and wishing I’d had done a test run in a swimming!”
They laughed as they washed and put away the dishes, and by the time the kitchen was cleared it was after 6pm. Natalie wanted Jane to stay but Jane didn’t want to outstay her welcome. When they said their farewells, Natalie gave her a big bear hug and a kiss, as they promised to meet up again for another cooking lesson.
As Jane drove home she suddenly remembered that Natalie hadn’t given her the contact details for the dress hire company, and decided she would ring her when she got back to her flat, but there was no answer when she called. She had enjoyed herself, and liked having someone to confide in. She did wonder whether perhaps she had said too much about her work, but then dismissed it. So that she didn’t forget exactly how to make spaghetti Bolognese in the future, she wrote down all the ingredients and cooking instructions. Sitting in her tiny kitchen she doubted she could invite anyone for dinner, as they would have to perch on the kitchen stools. Then there was Pearl to consider, unless it was a weekend when she was away visiting her parents.
As if on cue Jane heard the main front door bang shut, and then heavy footsteps on the stairs before the key turned in the door. Pearl slammed the door shut behind her, causing Jane to wince as she appeared in the kitchen doorway. Pearl pulled off her green beret, shook her hair and dumped her overnight bag down on the floor. She sighed.
“I had a big row with my mother, so I got the earlier train back.” Pearl was about to go into her bedroom, when Jane noticed that she had two books tucked under her arm.
“More books? You must be an avid reader.”
“Yes, well it’s part of my job, or at least I feel it’s necessary. We sometimes have private parties who rent out the museum, and then I give a tour and they ask me a lot of questions. I like to know the background on all the exhibits. We even have sort of scenes from crimes, murderers like Dr. Crippen, and Lizzie Borden the ax murderer. I’m always asked for details, which is why I do the research. I like the murderers in our collection; it’s fascinating how and why they kill people. I’m always the one asked to give the private tours because most of the other employees have no idea who half the people are. And I get extra money.”
“Oh, that’s very innovative of you.” Jane said, and then she smiled. “Do you have a Marilyn Monroe waxwork there?”
“Oh yes, of course.”
“I believe she made lots of witty remarks.”
“She did. My favorit
e is, ‘I don’t mind living in a man’s world, as long as I can be a woman in it.’”
“Oh,” Jane was impressed. She had been going to try and catch Pearl out by repeating what Dexter had told her.
“Did you have a nice weekend?” Pearl asked.
“Yes, I did. I had a cooking lesson.”
“Oh, cooking. That’s what started the argument with my mother. She infuriated me. I have told her repeatedly that I am a vegetarian and she says that she knows—and then she decided to roast a duck for Sunday lunch. I reminded her that I didn’t eat meat and she got into a real temper saying that duck wasn’t meat, it was a bird. Then it just escalated into a big argument as to whether or not ducks and chickens were acceptable for vegetarians. I said, ‘Mother, they are fowl and therefore meat,’ and the next minute there was drama and tears. I’d had enough so I left.”
“Would you like a cup of your green tea?”
“No, thank you. I’m tired out and have an early start in the morning. Oh, how was dinner at Fratelli’s?”
“It’s was very nice.”
“I often have their veggie lunch, but most days I like to go into the planetarium. My friend Eric works there so I get in free. Do you believe in star signs?”
“I’ve never really thought about it, to be honest.”
“Well, I do. I’m an Aries, and when you look at the formation of the planets and realize that we are such a small speck, it’s very meaningful. When I go back to work with all those wax figures of famous and historical people, I sometimes feel as if I am keeper of their souls.”
“Really?” asked Jane, trying to keep up as Pearl skipped from one subject to another. But Pearl seemed to have run out of steam.
“Do you mind if I have a bath?”
“No, go ahead. I’m going to have an early night.”
Pearl picked up her bag and went into her bedroom. Jane waited for the door to bang shut, but this time Pearl closed it quietly. Jane washed her coffee cup and cleaned the kitchen before turning off the lights and going into her bedroom. She heard the bath water running and as she got into bed she could hear Pearl singing, not too loudly but with a sweet voice. Jane recognized the song as “The Age of Aquarius” from the musical Hair. She closed her eyes. Pearl was such a different creature to her she found it hard to relax with her, unlike Natalie, who she felt was already a friend. Pearl thought of heartless murderers like Dr. Crippen as entertainment for visitors to Madame Tussaud’s, whereas Jane knew that real killers left behind horror and heartbreak.
Good Friday Page 20