A Move to Murder: A Bride's Bay Mystery

by Helena Lamb

  At home Beth stripped off the top and skirt, threw them into the laundry basket and opened the wardrobe door. Not normally over fussy about her clothes, she rummaged through the wardrobe rejecting everything. How long had she had that skirt? And that dress? That style had been popular ten years ago but Beth knew she would never wear it again, providing it even fitted, which she doubted, knowing her chest was larger than ever before and her hips curvier now than one year ago, never mind ten. At just five feet four, Beth had been most comfortable when she was a size twelve, but knew she was now easily a fourteen, sometimes a sixteen, depending on the style. Her waist was smaller in proportion to her hips and chest, giving her a very feminine figure that she would have preferred to be less curvy. Now most of her clothes seems to strain across the hips and bust, as well as being worn out. Time for a shopping spree. Carol would willingly go with her, but maybe Gina would be better? Admittedly Gina would look good in anything, being tall and slim, but she could also pick out shapes and colours that would flatter Beth’s shorter, curvier figure and her colouring. Was she a spring or a summer? Beth could never remember. A volunteer at the charity shop had once been into colours and they had spent a hilarious afternoon while...what was her name? Carly or Kayleigh or something...had worked on all their colours, swathing them in scarves and shawls, dancing around them and proclaiming them to be autumn, or winter or whatever it had been. Beth privately thought she was a bit of everything, her hair was a warm dark blonde, a mix of brown and blonde streaks, and her eyes were a mixture of gold and green, sometimes a strong, clear green and at other times flecked with amber. Why did some people’s eyes seem to change colour while others were the same, all the time? There must be a scientific reason but she had no idea what it was. And why on earth was she standing here in a once white bra and pink flowery knickers, pondering her eye colour, when poor old Charlie was crossing his legs downstairs, patiently waiting for his walk? She grabbed a pair of white cotton trousers and a blue t shirt and a minute later ran downstairs to collect Charlie. Forget her appearance; Melissa’s cool glamour had unsettled her but she was clean and (usually) tidy and she was never going to be as stylish as Melissa or Gina and what did it matter anyway? But she would go shopping and buy a few new bits, and some new sandals, a pair that were comfortable and stylish.

  Monday afternoon. Beth pushed open the door into the church hall, balancing a cake in one hand. The hall was almost full, just a few empty chairs around the tables set out in squares. She made her way to the serving hatch and handed the cake to Gina.

  “Just a lemon drizzle, easiest to make in a hurry.”

  “And always popular, thanks Beth. Are you coming round here or circulating?”

  “I’ll circulate….but what’s going on over there?” Beth nodded towards the table by the French doors, where the vicar’s wife Maggie Rowland’s had her arm around Mary Wren while various people hovered around, looking concerned.

  “Haven’t you heard? The Wrens’ have had a burglary, sometime over the weekend.” Gina broke off as she was nudged to fill the tea pot from the urn.

  “That’s awful. Poor Mary and Bill. I’ll go and see them when they’re on their own.”

  She picked up a cup of tea and gazed around the hall, spotting Melissa at a table with two women and a toddler, and made her way towards them.

  “Hello. Alright if I join you?”

  “Hi Beth. Here, just let me brush the crumbs off” Becky Smith pulled a chair out, removing a toy car along with the crumbs and handing the car to the little boy looking solemnly at Beth. Becky was a short, lively, vivacious young woman with dark curly hair and large brown eyes beneath strong arched brows.

  “Heaven help you when this one joins your class. Looks angelic but...” Becky rolled her eyes. “Have you got children, Melissa?”

  Melissa shook her head. “No, never happened, though it would have been nice.”

  Melissa was as well turned out as before, in tight fitting jeans today with a beautifully cut white jersey top, modern silver – or white gold? – jewellery at her wrists and ears. Her nails today were tipped with a crimson red. Did she do them every day? Beth wondered, marvelling that anyone would have the time, or the inclination, to give themselves a manicure more than once a week, even once a month. Or did she have them done at a salon?

  She turned her attention to the third woman sitting at the table.

  “Ali, how are you?”

  The thin, nervy looking woman twisted awkwardly to answer Beth, her long light brown hair swinging round her face, her pale blue eyes watery and anxious.

  “Good, thanks Beth. The shop’s busy so that’s good. In fact, I’ve been telling Melissa here about it, she’s going to call round and have a look and meet Julian.”

  Beth remembered Melissa saying she painted and was about to ask her about it when Becky leaned forward. “Wasn’t that awful about Mary and Bill? The burglary?”

  “I only just heard.” Beth turned round to look at Mary, who was now composed and sitting close to Bill. “What happened?”

  “They’d been away for the weekend; got back last night to find the house turned over, all her jewellery gone, laptops, Kindles...the kitchen door had been forced open.”

  “Oh poor Mary.” Beth thought of the gentle, grey haired couple, imagining the shock of coming home to find someone had been in your house. Horrible. Her car had been broken into once and that had been bad enough, the thought of someone rummaging through the car, but to have that happen in your home, your sanctuary...no wonder Mary and Bill looked shattered.

  “Do the police have any idea who did it?”

  Becky shook her head. “No, and Mary can’t bear to go back yet so they are staying at the vicarage until the police are finished and Christine has been down to tidy it all up for them. She’ll be here this afternoon.”

  Mary and Bill’s daughter Christine lived in Sheffield; Beth remembered her as a nice woman and was relieved to think she was on her way. Becky stood up to go, picking up toy cars and dinosaurs, and Ali and Melissa resumed talking about the gallery and Julian’s pottery. Beth excused herself and spent the next hour in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and wiping down the worktops.

  “Fifty three people today” announced Maggie, bustling into the kitchen. “A good turnout, thank you ladies.”

  “It’s been nice.” Carol finished putting the tea and coffee jars away and gathered up wet dishcloths to take home to wash. “Well, apart from poor Mary and Bill. I’m glad they’re staying with you and Mark, Maggie.”

  “I think Christine will persuade them to go home as soon as possible, the longer they leave it, the harder it will be, but they are welcome for as long as they need.”

  And they would be. Maggie, small, slight, with her mid brown thin wispy hair and brown eyes was like a little brown mouse and had a heart of gold. So did Mark, their vicar; only he was more of a St Bernard, wiry brown hair going grey, kind blue eyes, solid and dependable. The Wrens would be supported and cared for until they were ready to look after themselves again.

  “Come on, Beth.” Gina picked up her handbag and took Beth’s arm. “I’ll give you a lift and scrounge a cup of coffee before I go home.”

  “Of course I’ll go shopping with you.” Gina leaned back in the garden chair, crossing her long shapely legs in navy cotton cropped trousers. “But what’s brought this on? You only ever shop for stuff for the house, or Nell.”

  Beth wriggled her bare toes in the grass, compared them with Gina’s pretty pale pink toenails.

  “I don’t know, maybe it was seeing Melissa so simply but beautifully dressed, or church yesterday when I felt so scruffy....everyone else makes an effort and I just make sure I’m clean! All my clothes are old, out of date. Of course I can’t wear anything too good for work but it would be nice to have some practical but stylish clothes.”

  “And so you shall Cinderella” laughed Gina. “You’ve got a good figure, lovely colouring. Yes you have” as Beth started to protest.
“You’re very soft and feminine, you’re not the tall, tailored type but in soft colours, floaty fabrics, heels.”

  “I can’t wear heels; I just fall over on them!”

  “Not vamp high heels, just medium, kitten heels, that sort of thing. So, when are we going and where?”

  Gina’s eyes sparkled and Beth felt a rush of affection for her friend. Carol had been her first friend here and would always be a close friend; open, outspoken, energetic, a natural born organiser and with a heart of gold. Gina was reserved; to people who didn’t know her she came across as aloof and unapproachable, but Beth and Carol knew her to be compassionate, thoughtful, sensitive and generous. Carol had introduced her to Beth five years before, when she had become friendly with Gina through the choir they both sang with. Beth had recognised a sadness in the other woman and a sense of caution with people that she herself shared. She and Gina had gradually formed a close friendship and Beth ached for her friend at times; knowing Gina still grieved for the daughter she had lost at four days old and the husband who had died eight years ago. Her only child, Robert, lived in Scotland and Gina missed him terrible. To the outsider, Gina in her beautiful house with her looks, her sports car and no money worries seemed to have it all. But Beth knew she would have sacrificed it all in a second to have her family back. Gina was the one person she could share her worries and problems with, knowing she would understand and be supportive. Carol was practical, energetic, but black and white. Gina had more empathy and patience, understood Beth’s insecurities and weaknesses. But both women were very dear to her and Beth couldn’t imagine her life in Bride’s Bay without either of them.

  “Tomorrow?” suggested Beth. “Or are you busy?”

  Gina shook her head. “No, not at all. Portsmouth, Southampton or Winchester?”

  “Southampton.” Beth decided. “Then we can go to John Lewis.”

  They made arrangements to meet at Gina’s as soon as Beth finished work and have a late lunch in Southampton. Gina got up to go, laughingly saying she hoped Beth’s bank balance was healthy. Which it was. Beth wasn’t extravagant and lived well within her means.

  Closing the bedroom curtains that night, Beth looked down the road to the lights still glowing fuzzily on the island, the pinpricks of light on the beach where the fishermen silently sat in their tents, and the shimmer of moonlight on the sea. Charlie sat quietly by the bed, ready to jump up as soon as Beth was settled.

  “Come on boy, I give up!” Charlie wagged his tail and scrambled up, Beth catching him and stroking his warm, hairy little body as he burrowed down with a sigh.

  Chapter 3

  Tuesday morning was busy at school. The first lesson was PE, involving changing fifteen wriggling, uncooperative three and four year olds into their shorts and T shirts. Then at snack time one of the children began to choke on a piece of apple, leaving both Helen and Beth shaken. Just before lunch the head teacher, Mrs Fielding, brought a couple round to view the nursery. They had had a thorough look round then began asking their questions of Helen, leaving Beth to work alone with the children. By the time they had left it was gone twenty past twelve, which meant Helen and Beth had to rush to get the children ready to be collected at half past. Parents and guardians were waiting impatiently in the playground and Beth felt flustered as she tried to match book bags and art work to pupils as quickly as she could.

  “Beth, I’m so sorry to ask, but there’s an early years’ meeting this lunchtime. Could you…?”

  Beth anticipated Helen’s request. “Of course. Leave it all to me. Just go,” shooing the teacher out of the door, knowing Helen would barely have time to go to the toilet before the afternoon nursery children arrived. It was all very well people making derogatory comments about the short working day of teachers, the long holidays, but Beth knew her colleagues were in school long before school started officially and didn’t go home until long after the last child had left, even then taking marking and preparation home with them; also knew their days were filled not just with lessons but with duties, meetings, phone calls. Helen rarely, if ever, had a proper lunch break, working nonstop from when the children arrived at eight forty five to when they left at three fifteen, then carrying on with paperwork. She had no desire to be a teacher, Beth reflected, as she tidied away toys and washed up the beakers and plates from snack time. She loved being with the children but it was Helen who did all the planning, the assessments, attended the meetings and training courses. No, the pay might be poor but the job suited her. She swilled out the sink, put the tea towel to dry and picked up her bag.

  “Sorry I’m late” she apologised fifteen minutes later, as Gina opened the door, well-groomed as ever in white linen trousers and a pale blue and white patterned top.

  “Bad morning?” queried Gina. Beth shook her head. “Just busy. So I feel a bit hot and scruffy.”

  “Do you want to freshen up before we go, have a drink and sandwich here?”

  “No, it’s fine. Let’s go and relax somewhere with a nice cool drink.

  Gina drove them into Southampton, with the roof of her car down. The wind tossed Beth’s hair around but it was cool and refreshing and she felt calmer and less fraught by the time they arrived at the car park.

  She felt even more relaxed an hour later, after a glass of chilled white wine and a large bowl of chicken Caesar salad.

  “That’s better.” She sighed contentedly. “Come on then, my personal shopper, sort me out.”

  Gina needed no encouragement, rushing Beth from one store to another, darting between evening wear, lingerie, casual wear, until Beth’s head was spinning and she was worn out with undressing and trying on different outfits, spinning round for her friend to inspect, then starting all over again. She sat on the stool in a shoe department with a sigh and begged her friend to stop.

  “Gina! I’ve never bought so many things! Take pity on my bank account!”

  Gina looked stricken.

  “Have you spent too much? Do we need to put something back? Or will you let me treat you?”

  “No, no, it’s fine” Beth laughed, squeezing her friends arm. “But I’ve got enough, honestly. I don’t go anywhere to wear all these things. Besides, I can’t carry anymore! Now, let’s go and have a cup of tea.”

  They made their way to the coffee shop and sat down with relief, smiling at each other.

  “That was fun” Gina grinned, pouring the tea. “Are you pleased with what we bought?”

  “Oh yes. How could I not be?” Beth thought briefly of the tops and trousers, dresses, shoes and sandals, the lacy underwear.

  “Well, you’re kitted out for the summer. And we can do this again in September, choose you a new winter coat, boots, woollens…”

  “Stop! Let me get over this trip first! And save up for next time!”

  Gina paused, put her cup down.

  “Beth” she hesitated “are you alright for money? Because if not...you know I would always help you out.”

  She picked her cup up again, took a sip of tea, embarrassed.

  Beth felt a lump in her throat, put out her hand and squeezed Gina’s.

  “Gina, honestly, I’m fine.”

  Gina’s lovely blue eyes looked up at Beth, troubled. “But I know teaching assistants don’t earn much, and you’ve got your house to run, and Nell. You would tell me if you … if you were ever in difficulty?”

  “You’re right, my pay isn’t great. But it’s my choice to work part time. I like to be able to help at the shop, do the flowers and Tea and Chat. I could get more hours if I needed to, but while I can manage, I’d rather be part time. And I couldn’t leave Charlie all day. But remember I don’t have a mortgage now; I paid that off two years ago. And my outgoings are quite low, I’m not extravagant.”

  They both glanced down at the sea of carrier bags around their feet and burst out laughing.

  “Well, not usually! And I don’t spend anything on Nell now she is working, apart from the odd treat of course. So honestly Gina, I’m fine.
But thank you for being so concerned.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  Gina looked happier. “But you would tell me if you needed anything?” she persisted.

  “Yes Gina. I promise. Now, shall we make a move before the traffic really builds up?” She needed to change the subject.

  “Too late for that.” Gina glanced out of the window, at the steady stream of traffic on the road below.

  “But yes, let’s go back to mine, or are you in a hurry to get back?”

  Beth shook her head. “I’ve time for a quick cup of coffee. Charlie will be fine. He can get out into the garden.”

  James Lamb had fitted a large cat flap to the kitchen door when she had first got the little dog, so he could go out if he needed to while Beth was out.

  They drove back to Gina’s and Beth again felt a rush of pleasure as she sat in Gina’s kitchen, gazing out of the window at the garden sloping down to the beach, at the waves splashing against the browns, greys and yellows of the shingle . Gina and her husband Malcolm had bought the plot of land over twenty years before, designing the house themselves, and it was a beautiful location, with trees and woodland to the front and a view over the nature reserve; the beach and sea behind, Osborne House and Carisbrooke Castle across the water. The interior was modern and minimalistic but comfortable and homely. Beth knew Gina and Malcolm had made the decision to move to Monkton soon after the death of their baby daughter, Gina finding it unbearable to stay in the house they had imagined to be a home for the little girl; the pale pink nursery, the pram in the hall way. Planning a new house so close to the beach, moving in with their young son Robert, had given them a fresh start but Beth knew the pain of losing her daughter had never gone. Would never go. How could it?

  An hour later Beth pushed open her own front door, laden with glossy bags. She was tired but happy and felt a bubble of excitement at the thought of all her purchases. She couldn’t remember ever buying so many new clothes before but Gina had been right, it had been fun. She greeted Charlie and placed the bags on the sofa, checked the answer phone for messages, glanced at the clock and realised with a start it was just gone half past seven. Oh well, she didn’t need anything to eat after that late lunch. She only needed to take Charlie for a walk and put the new clothes away. She clipped Charlie’s lead on and went out of the front door, down the path, turning right to the park rather than left to the sea front. She was too tired for a long walk along the beach tonight; a couple of turns around the park would be fine for once.