A Cotswolds Legacy

by Nancy Buckingham

  I spoke in the calm cool voice of logic.

  ‘I think you’d better have a word with Mr. Tyler about your suspicions. Or Mr. Leeson might be able to help. After all, it’s really their business, isn’t it?’

  All his earlier bitterness returned. ‘Meaning it isn’t mine, I suppose? You might remember I was the one your father blamed. He died believing me to be in the wrong. I owe it to myself to prove he was mistaken.’

  ‘All by yourself?’

  ‘Well, somebody must be behind whatever it is that’s going on. And I’m not likely to get to the bottom of it if I raise the alarm.’

  ‘Have you any idea at all who did it? Do you suspect anybody in particular?’

  “As a matter of fact, yes I do.’

  “Who?’

  He turned his most stubborn look upon me. ‘I’m not in a position to make any accusations at the moment.’

  ‘No, Dr. Hamilton, you’re not, are you? On the contrary, I could very well make an accusation against you.’

  He caught me by the arm. ‘No, you mustn’t do that,’ he cried fiercely.

  ‘Just you let go, if you please.’ I shook myself free angrily. ‘Can you give me one good reason why not?’

  ‘I suppose it’s too much to expect your commonsense will stop you doing anything so foolish.’

  I glared back at him. ‘Very well! Assuming your story is true, did you find what you were looking for?’

  ‘No, I didn’t have time.’

  ‘I suppose it was very inconsiderate of me to interrupt you. Well then, be my guest. Go ahead and finish the job now. Take your time.’

  While I stood there and watched his every move, Dr. Hamilton began to search through the drawers. He took me at my word, scrutinizing every piece of paper carefully. It was a long time before he gave up.

  ‘It’s not there,’ he said sadly.

  ‘Isn’t that just too bad? I suppose you realize there’s not a thing to substantiate your story?’

  He flushed. ‘I don’t know why I bothered to try to explain to you. Obviously I was wasting my time.’ He stalked across the room, but at the door he paused. ‘Are you going to be sensible and say nothing about this?’

  I cursed myself for a fool, I raged at my gullibility, I deplored my weakness. But I agreed.

  It must have been an hour later that I remembered Jenner. I found the poor old dog curled up on the doorstep, fast asleep.

  Chapter Four

  The Women’s Institute meeting seemed to have given Mrs. Cass a shot-in-the-arm. She arrived home in distinctly mellower mood, even accepting compliments about the dinner with a degree of grace.

  ‘It’s a nice change to be able to cook normal meals. It was always so difficult with the poor doctor. He had to be so careful, with his diabetes.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Diabetics have to have all their food weighed out, don’t they?’

  ‘That’s right. He had to be very particular about things like bread and potatoes. And I couldn’t add any extra sugar to stewed fruit or anything, because that would throw out his calories, you see.’

  I stayed around while she cleared the table. ‘The clothes I brought with me aren’t at all suitable for the country, I’m afraid. I’m having some things sent on, but I’ll certainly need to buy more suitable shoes. I think I’ll go into Cheltenham tomorrow.’

  Mrs. Cass seemed to approve of this. ‘I’m sure that’s very wise of you. Not like some people.’

  I made encouraging noises.

  She hesitated a moment, then burst out in a gush of disapproval. ‘There was an actress staying at the “George” in Woolcombe last summer. She was quite indecent, going about waggling her bottom in tight pink satin trousers. She had all the men licking their lips—you know what they’re like. It was disgusting. It shouldn’t be allowed.’

  I began to think I was clearing the first hurdle with Mrs. Cass. Mercifully I hadn’t fulfilled her pre-conceived idea of how all actresses behaved, and now she was beginning to thaw.

  I made a point of being around when the housekeeper locked up that night. Casually I asked her who needed to use the door through to the laboratory now.

  She thought about it for a moment before answering. ‘Well, no one but you, really Miss Royle. I suppose it’s just force of habit makes me lock it and unlock it each day. The doctor was always coming and going, so it had to be left open then.’

  ‘Yes, of course. But I shan’t need to use it nearly as much as my father. Maybe it would be better to leave it locked.’

  I had expected her to bristle at my suggestion, taking it as an implied criticism. But to my surprise she agreed quite amiably. Maybe she thought a slight nervousness appropriate in a young woman.

  I said goodnight and was heading for my bedroom when she stopped me.

  ‘Miss Royle.

  ‘Yes, Mrs. Cass?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking, about you and your father—not knowing each other, I mean....’

  I came back down the few stairs I had climbed, and waited in some excitement for her to go on.

  ‘Mrs. Truscott, over at Hatherfield—she might be able to tell you something. She’s a very nice lady. It was her house the doctor used to go to on Sundays.’

  ‘And you really think she might know something?’

  ‘Well, she’s a very old friend of the doctor’s. Her husband died a couple of years back, but he was a doctor too. I believe he and your father knew each other years ago, right back when they were at medical college.’

  I could have hugged Mrs. Cass. This looked like being just the lead I needed.

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ I said warmly. ‘I’ll give her a ring in the morning. Maybe I can go over and see her.’

  But I didn’t need to phone. To my astonishment a letter from Mrs. Truscott was waiting on the breakfast table next morning. In friendly terms it said she had just heard of my arrival at Malverton, and that she would very much like to meet me. ‘I wondered if you would care to come to tea one afternoon soon. I am always at home around three o’clock, so there is no need to let me know in advance.’

  It seemed like a good omen. I was so eager I would have set out there and then if the invitation hadn’t specifically mentioned tea-time. As it was, I would spend the morning shopping.

  Mrs. Cass further improved my good spirits by asking me to get something for her while I was in Cheltenham. The situation between us appeared to be improving all the time.

  ‘It’s powder for softening the water, Miss Royle. I don’t like to be without it. But not knowing what was going to happen here, I didn’t re-order, and now I’ve run right out.’

  Max had mentioned my father’s car, which of course was now my property. I’d had a look at it in the garage—a dignified and rather elderly Rover.

  This morning it responded at once to the starter button. I gingerly negotiated the drive and chugged in stately fashion along the lane. The car was strange to me, and what was worse, never in my life had I driven on narrow twisting country roads. But with growing confidence I found that the bends added interest to motoring.

  At the crossroads the old man was sitting under the oak tree as though he hadn’t moved since I saw him last. Once again we exchanged grave bows.

  Shopping in Cheltenham was a leisurely business. The stores were excellent, and I wasted time enjoyably looking from one to the other. I found the shoes I wanted—comfortable green suede flatties, and to make sure I was prepared for anything I added a pair of stout gum-boots. I fell for a tweed skirt with a wide leather belt, and bought a yellow shirt to go with it.

  It was a lovely morning, and I joined the strollers on the tree-lined promenade, letting my feet take me where they would.

  ‘Dulcie!’

  I jerked round. ‘Why hallo there, Max.’

  He stood grinning down at me. Beside him was a tall girl with honey-blonde hair falling to her shoulders. Smartly dressed in a sea-green linen suit, she was a real English-style beauty, with a perfect oval face and an
enviable creamy complexion.

  ‘This is Valerie Carstairs,’ said Max, and then introduced me.

  ‘Max has told me all about you,’ said Valerie in a smoothly artificial voice. I wondered if she guessed that he had told me nothing at all about her.

  ‘We were just going for a noggin,’ Max said. ‘You must join us.’

  He took us both by the arm and shepherded us along to the lounge of a hotel. In no time at all we were sitting down nursing dry martinis. Max asked what brought me to Cheltenham, and I explained about the shoes.

  ‘Dulcie’s determined to stay,’ he said, looking at Valerie. ‘If I was her I’d beat it back to London while the going was good. But she actually seems to like it at Malverton—she must be round the bend.’

  Valerie looked directly at me. ‘I dare say she’s found something to interest her there,’ she said in her silky voice. Her eyes sent me a warning signal. “He’s mine, so hands off..."

  ‘Now then,’ said Max. ‘If you won’t take my advice and get back to the bright lights PDQ, we’ll have to make sure you aren’t bored. What are you planning to do at the weekend?’

  ‘Nothing special. I shall enjoy a bit of peace and quiet for once. These last few months have been like crazy.’

  ‘But Mrs. Cass has Sundays off, doesn’t she? We can’t have you moping around that barn of a house all on your own.’

  Actually, I rather went for the idea. Even though Mrs. Cass had come round a mite, she still put an invisible halter on me. With her out of the way, I could explore the house at my leisure, wandering from room to room where I chose, without the danger of her creeping up behind me, making me feel like a trespasser.

  But Max wouldn’t allow me this luxury. He turned to Valerie with a sudden idea. ‘What about us taking Dulcie to the cricket match at Lissington?’

  Her lovely green eyes widened in surprise. ‘But darling...!’

  ‘You were intending to go, weren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I was. But you know you’re never free on Sundays.’

  Max smiled. ‘Ah, but I can always make an exception, for a special occasion, can’t I?’

  Valerie subsided into scowling sulks, and I couldn’t blame her. I reckoned the best thing I could do was to break up the party, so I announced I would have to get going.

  ‘Why not stay and lunch with us?’ asked Max easily.

  I wasn’t such a goon. I knew when I wasn’t wanted. Besides, my ready excuse happened to be true. ‘Mustn’t offend Mrs. Cass,’ I said significantly. Not when she’d have made a big thing of the meal I was expected home for. Not just when her attitude to me was relenting. Not on your life I wouldn’t risk offending Mrs. Cass.

  And then on the drive home I realized I had done what I was so carefully trying to avoid. Only this morning the housekeeper had unbent to the extent of asking me to do her a small favour, and I had entirely forgotten about it. Bumping into Max had put the stuff for water-softening clear out of my head.

  But there was no time to turn around and go back to Cheltenham without being hopelessly late for lunch.

  Damn, I thought. Damn, damn, damn! This would happen.

  But as I slowed at the crossroads near home, I saw again the sign pointing to Lechford. It was only five miles. Surely there’d be a drug-store in a market town?

  So I turned to the left. The old man under the tree, all set to salute me once more, must have been taken aback by my sudden change of direction. He half rose to his feet, mouth agape.

  Lechford was a sleepy little place— tawny, greystone houses clustered together on either side of the twisty main street. Behind the Norman church, standing well back from the road, I could see the Rectory. It was a large house, white painted. I wondered which were Dr. Hamilton’s rooms.

  I didn’t spot the drug-store at first. The shop window was tiny, broken up into small panes so it was difficult to see the stock clearly.

  As I pushed open the door a bell jingled, then died slowly away. A youngish man stepped unhurriedly through the low doorway at the back.

  He smiled at me in a friendly way. ‘Isn’t it a lovely day? We’ve had so much rain lately I think we’ve earned a bit of sun.’

  I knew the language all right. I was getting used to this English preoccupation with the weather. So I agreed with him, even adding a comment of my own. ‘It will bring on the crops, I expect.’

  We lapped the conversational circuit a couple of times before getting down to business. At last he asked what he could get me, but when I told him his face fell.

  ‘I’m right out of it at the moment. I’m awfully sorry, but for some reason the suppliers missed me out last time. Do you need it urgently?’

  ‘Well yes, I do. I must get some today. I wonder if you’d be kind enough to tell me where else I might try in Lechford?’

  ‘I’m afraid this is the only pharmacy here,’ he said. ‘There isn’t enough trade to keep two of us going, you see.’

  He was so pleasant, so apologetic. But that wouldn’t help me with Mrs. Cass.

  ‘Do you live far away, madam?’ he asked.

  ‘Not very. Over near Woolcombe.’

  His face beamed again. ‘Well then, that’s all right. I’m expecting a delivery later on today. I’ll ask the butcher to drop it in when he does his round out that way.’

  ‘You’re very kind,’ I said, and opened my purse to pay him.

  ‘Only too glad to be able to oblige.’ He picked up a ball-point. ‘I’ll just jot down the address.’

  ‘It’s Malverton,’ I said. ‘You may know it. The house is next door to the Drysdale Pharmaceuticals....’

  I was astonished at the abrupt change in his manner. Friendliness evaporated, his voice was icily polite. ‘I imagine you are the doctor’s daughter, then?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I know the house. I’ll see you get the powder today. Good morning.’

  I walked out into the dozing High Street, dumbfounded by the truculent dismissal. One thing was clear, however. There was nothing about me personally that had aroused his dislike. It was only when I mentioned the address that he got sore. It was not because I was Dulcie Royle, but because I was Dr. Drysdale’s daughter.

  The return to Malverton was so different from the light-hearted setting out. After my brush with the drugstore man, excited anticipation of the visit to Mrs. Truscott was tinged with alarm at what I might learn about my father.

  But first I had to face Mrs. Cass with a confession. I ‘came clean,’ hoping that what I had done to remedy my forgetfulness would square me with her.

  The expression growing on her thin face didn’t reassure me. She looked incredulous.

  ‘In Lechford?’ she cried. ‘You don’t mean to say you went to Reade’s?’

  ‘I didn’t notice the name. But it’s the only drug-store—just opposite the Post Office.’

  ‘That’s the one,’ she said grimly. ‘That dreadful man. Oh well, we won’t be hearing anything more from him.’

  I shook my head in bewilderment. ‘I just don’t get this. He promised me he would send it up this afternoon. I paid him for it, anyway.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean a thing. The man’s a thief.’

  I couldn’t put up with any more mystery, so I forced the issue. ‘Mrs. Cass, you’ve just got to tell me what this is all about. The man in the shop couldn’t have been more helpful, right up to the minute I gave this address. Then he changed abruptly and became darned rude. Why does he hate this place? Is it something to do with my father?’

  She looked at me unhappily. 'I suppose you’d better know the truth of it, Miss Royle. That man Eric Reade used to be overseer here before Leeson came. But the doctor caught him stealing and he had to give him the sack. It upset the poor doctor properly, that did. He was miserable about it for weeks.’

  Suddenly, amazingly, the formidable Mrs. Cass began to weep. Big silent tears rolled down her cheeks, and she fumbled for a handkerchief to mop them up.

  She managed
to keep an iron control over her voice, and when she spoke she was almost her normal self again. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Royle, but I couldn’t help it. It’s Janet, you see.’

  ‘Janet? Your niece, you mean?’

  ‘That’s right. She’s picked up with that man Reade and I’ve been so worried about her. I don’t blame her for wanting to find another man, not with two young children. But to think of her taking up with his sort.’ Tears sprang to her eyes again. ‘But there it is, Janet won’t believe he’s a bad lot. We’ve had words about it, more than once, but she won’t listen to reason.’

  I did my best to soothe the poor woman. I pointed out that Janet seemed such a level-headed person, who could surely be relied upon to act sensibly. But she wouldn’t be comforted.

  Fortunately the thought that the potatoes for my lunch must be boiling dry sent her scurrying off with something different to put her mind to.

  I was left standing in the hall wondering if I had dreamt the little scene that had just taken place. I hadn’t imagined that Mrs. Cass would be capable of such emotion. She must be extremely fond of her niece to feel so upset about the prospect of her marrying the man Reade.

  I supposed it meant that Janet would give up working here. In fact it was curious that she hadn’t done so already, considering the strength of Eric Reade’s reaction to my very mention of Malverton.

  Chapter Five

  A boy on a bicycle directed me to Ruth Truscott’s house. It was a charming stone building, set on the edge of the delightful village of Hatherfield. Virginia Creeper covered the walls, the thrusting tendrils reaching right up to the roof and even the chimney pots. Casement windows were thrown open to the sun.

  As I parked the car on a paved strip that led to a garage, a woman in a wide-brimmed hat stood up from where she had been picking flowers. Ruth Truscott was not in the least beautiful. In fact she was ugly—strikingly ugly, with a huge mouth and heavy-lidded eyes. Her lined face had all the character of a woman who had looked at life squarely and come to terms with it.

  ‘You must be Dulcie,’ she said, coming towards me. Her quick smile added a strange sweetness to her expression. ‘You are like your father, you know. Something about the eyes, I think.’