Marie promised for the sake of her sister, but she was worried about what Violet might say. Like any child, she would enjoy the importance of the police questioning, especially if they flattered her, explained how much she was helping them.
In between hospital visits she and Ernie spoke about the accident and Marie suggested that she look after Jennie for a while.
‘Thank you. It would mean I’d be on my own much of the time, but it would be better for Jennie.’
Better for you, too, if you but knew it, Marie thought. Violet might be persuaded to tell the truth about the time Jennie had arrived on the night of heavy rain. Or to boast about seeing them kissing. Kissing was something to giggle about when you were Violet’s age. Like Bill, Marie knew the police only wanted a hint of an untruth to encourage more questions, start them digging until they had the full story.
She questioned Bill about the death of his fiancée, for which no one had been charged.
‘You don’t think there’s a connection, do you?’
He frowned and shook his head. ‘How can there be? A drunken driver who wouldn’t stop in case he’d killed someone is the likely explanation, and that it happened twice only shows how dangerous these unlit roads are at night.’
‘But weren’t the clothes tidied, like the last time?’
‘The police haven’t mentioned that. I only told you.’
‘But you should tell them. It might make a connection and help them catch the man who almost killed Jennie as Emily was killed.’
‘Best not. I don’t think it would help.’ He couldn’t tell her that it was himself and Ivor who had moved and covered the body of Emily. That would start unwelcome questions.
*
‘Did you use my car last evening, Ivor?’ the office manager asked him the following morning.
‘No, I didn’t leave the hotel. Why?’
‘Oh, nothing really. It was parked in a slightly different way, angled more towards the steps than I remember. I must have made a mistake. I asked because you’re the only one with a key besides me.’
Ivor searched in his inside pocket and frowned. ‘That’s funny, I don’t seem to have it. I’ve moved recently and perhaps it fell out in all the confusion. I’ll have a proper search when I get back to my room.’
He went through all his things and remembered making certain that the pockets of the clothes he had sent to the dry-cleaners were empty. He was very thorough about such things. Perhaps he would have to go back to the room and ask Effie if she’d found it. It wasn’t something he wanted to do but it was important not to allow his boss to think he was careless about such things. Important for him, too. He dreaded any sign he was becoming forgetful. That was the stuff that fuelled his worst nightmares.
Effie smiled widely when she opened the door to him.
‘You’ve come back?’ She stepped away to allow him to enter but he stood on the threshold like a stranger. ‘It’s such a lovely day today, nothing but good news and now you’re back.’
‘I’m sorry. Effie, but I’m not back. I just wondered whether you’ve seen a car key. I can’t find it and I thought I must have dropped it when I was packing.’
The smile leaving her face she shook her head. ‘You can come inside and look. I haven’t done much cleaning since you went, it didn’t seem important any more. You have to have someone to please to make boring jobs worthwhile.’
He stepped inside and gave the floor a cursory glance. Effie dropped to her knees and urged him to do the same. ‘Come on, Ivor, you won’t find anything standing there like a handle without a brush, no use nor ornament.’
He kneeled down, carefully pulling up his trousers to save the crease, wishing he’d changed into older clothes. After feeling around under the couch and the chair and moving the folded table she gave a shout and held up the key. ‘Here it is, aren’t I clever? Don’t I deserve a treat? What about taking me for a drink?’
‘Thank you, I will, but not tonight. I’ll arrange something soon.’
‘That means never, doesn’t it?’ she said sadly.
He smiled and thanked her again and hurried from the house. He quickly forgot her disappointment. He was curious about the appearance of the key, which he had always kept in a buttoned pocket from which it was impossible for it to fall out. Had she taken it as an excuse for him to return? She certainly wouldn’t have needed it. The car wasn’t his and she had told him she couldn’t drive.
*
Jennie’s sojourn in hospital was really rather pleasant. Ernie came for every visiting hour and brought gifts. Bouquets of flowers came for her parents, her sister and Ernie, and there was a home-made card to which Violet had added her childish scrawl. Bill sent a card too, signed with love and a solitary kiss. At least this disaster was giving them a breathing space, time to consider what was to be done.
When her parents came, Belle was very upset. ‘We feel you should come home while you convalesce, dear,’ she said. ‘Marie tells us you’re going there, but Dad and I want to look after you until you’re really well again.’
‘Mummy, I can’t. You’re all being kind and I love you.’ She reached out and held Ernie’s hand, and looked up at him adoringly. ‘But I’m married now, remember, and I want to go home to Ernie.’
‘Two visitors only at each bed,’ the nurse called, and Ernie turned away and pretended to be visiting the lady in the next bed. At half time, ‘like a football match,’ Howard joked, the three visitors left to wait outside, while two more came in.
Marie and Violet brought fruit, a few home-made biscuits and John Bull and Woman magazines.
Because of the presence of her daughter, Marie couldn’t talk freely. She still needed to tell Jennie all Geoff had told her and, ask her opinion – not with the expectation of sensible advice but more the opportunity to think aloud, clarify her own thoughts. Instead they listened to Jennie’s amusing description of life in the ward with a dragon of a matron and nurses she could twist around her little finger. Marie was thankful when the bell went and she could go home.
When Jennie came out of hospital it was on crutches, and Ernie had arranged for a young girl to go in every day to attend to Jennie and prepare food. ‘I have to confess it’s a lovely life,’ she admitted to Marie one morning. ‘I hobble to the car in the afternoon and we go to the beach or the park for a sedate five-minute walk then back to the car to be fussed over like some hero awarded medals for bravery over and above the call of duty.’
‘And Bill?’
‘He’s behaving like a gentleman.’ She leaned closer to avoid anyone hearing and added, ‘Something’s bothering him, though. He keeps asking if my accident could be connected with that of his fiancée all those months ago. He said he had disturbed someone leaning over her trying to arrange her clothes. He didn’t move me but there was someone bending over me as though they were about to do the same thing. Poor Emily had been lifted to the side of the road and laid out neat as neat. Strange, isn’t it? Could it be a coincidence? Is it something people feel the need to do, make the victim respectable? I did wonder if it might mean it was a woman driving the car. She might have seen my clothes up exposing my legs and – no, it’s nonsense. A drunken driver they suspect, and that’s most likely to be a man. Oh, Marie it’s so creepy.’
‘No one was found for Emily’s death, even though the enquiries went on for weeks,’ Marie said.
‘The police don’t expect to catch the man who ran into me, either, if you ask me. No one’s going to own up, are they? Knocking down a pedestrian, then leaving the scene of an accident, well, they obviously aren’t the kind to feel remorse.’
‘D’you remember anything?’
‘Not really, except the sound of the car engine suddenly loud and close, not slowly approaching, but sudden. I haven’t told the police that, though. It’s more likely I’m remembering the moment of impact. The roar and the blow were instantaneous and I can’t really remember any sound before that. It was as though the car started, revved and
came straight at me, and I know that couldn’t be the case.’
‘Perhaps you should tell them, though. They say even small pieces of information help them to build an overall picture.’
‘I just want to forget it now.’ She pointed at the table. ‘Pass me that knitting needle, will you, sis? I can’t wait to get this plaster off. It’s itching like mad again.’
‘Go easy, you don’t want it swelling!’
‘Stop nagging, it’s my itch!’
It was clear to Marie that any decisions about Bill leaving had been forgotten.
The James household had quickly reverted to its routine, with Ernie eating breakfast, reading the paper and going for a short walk in the morning. Lunch was followed by Ernie and Jennie going out for an hour or so, then Ernie would have his nap. It was during this time that Jennie and Bill talked.
‘I can’t tell you how much I long for that hour every day,’ Jennie told her sister.
Jennie had booked a taxi when Ernie was attending a committee meeting at his club and they were sitting in the autumn sunshine in the garden of Badgers Brook. It was Marie’s half-day closing, and she ignored the list of jobs she planned to do and listened to her sister.
‘I worked in his mother’s hairdressing shop for years, seeing Bill every day, but I hardly noticed him. Then he was horrible to me. He admits now that he was trying not to fall for me. He was afraid I’d laugh at him if he invited me out, him being older than my usual dates.’ She laughed. ‘He was right, mind, we did laugh at him, called him names. Now I’m married, we’ve realized how strongly we’re attracted to each other.’
‘It shouldn’t have happened,’ Marie admonished. ‘I’m sure you aren’t the first person this has happened to and you should have walked away before things went this far.’
‘Me and Ivor both,’ Jennie said sadly. ‘I’m sorry, sis, you’re getting both sides of an insoluble problem, aren’t you? I shouldn’t have confided in you, it was thoughtless and I’m really sorry.’
‘It’s all right. I don’t know for sure that Ivor is with another woman. Until he tells me himself I won’t believe it.’ She picked up the sewing basket and began darning one of the twins’ socks. ‘I miss him, Jennie, and I want to believe in him. I can’t relate what’s happened to the loving, caring man I married.’
‘Poor Ernie,’ Jennie said softly, and once again Marie knew her sister hadn’t been listening to what she had to say.
When Geoff called that evening he stayed for supper, and as Rhodri and Violet washed dishes with much hilarity, she asked him about the accident that had killed Bill’s fiancée, Emily. ‘I know it was in the paper and I read the account like everyone else, but she wasn’t known to me except as a girl who worked with Jennie, and I didn’t take it in. Can you remember the details?’
‘Only that she was walking home through the lane and was hit by a vehicle. The driver disappeared but when the body was found it was laid neatly under the hedge, the clothes arranged and her arms at her sides, feet together, hair smoothed down around her face. He stopped long enough to do that but he didn’t even phone for an ambulance in case the poor woman was still alive.’
‘D’you think the same person hit Jennie?’
‘It does seem possible but I can’t think why.’
‘They were getting married, so had there been a quarrel?’
‘You don’t think Bill was responsible, do you?’
‘Of course not! But I wondered if there was someone out there who hates him seeing another woman.’
‘There were rumours about another girl who worked at the hairdressers shop before Jennie and Lucy, but I don’t know for certain.’
‘Tell me about her.’
‘I can’t remember her name, but she left suddenly and some said she was expecting a baby and was sent away from home. So far as I know she didn’t die, though, just went away.’
‘That can’t have been Bill, or everyone would have heard. It isn’t easy to keep a secret like that when the family is as well known as Ernie James’s.'
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Secrets can be buried deep but they never stay hidden. Something happens and up they pop, No, it can’t have been Bill.’
‘Odd though, all three working for Thelma James. And it’s a strange coincidence, both women having their clothes straightened. D’you think the police know? About the first one?’
‘Forget it, Geoff. They don’t want any irrelevant information. It would only confuse things.’
‘It would be wise to warn Jennie to be very careful, though!’
*
With the investigation increasing the chance of her affair with Bill being exposed, Jennie knew they couldn’t see each other again. There was a serious risk of the police being convinced that the common factor was Bill. Besides that possibility, it was not certain that the accident had been deliberate and her life with Ernie was comfortable and easy: too good to risk giving up for love and less comfort with Bill.
She knew she was selfish and didn’t think she would ever change. A gentle passionless life was not an appealing prospect, but an easy life as a rich man’s darling had its compensations.
The romantic in her couldn’t resist arranging one final meeting with Bill, to say their goodbyes. Ernie willingly drove her to wherever she wanted to go, and an afternoon at Marie’s house seemed innocuous enough. He helped her into the house, where Rhodri and Violet were preparing tea while, outside, Geoff, Marie and the boys were turning the soil over and tidying up before the winter frosts.
An hour later Marie and the rest of the family left to go to the pictures and Jennie opened the door to Bill. They discussed the situation and Bill decided to accept Jennie’s decision. ‘I’ll leave, find work in another town,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry it’s you who has to move away but there isn’t any other way to end it. I can’t trust myself near you, and I have to stay with your father,’ she said as he stood up to go.
Outside a car pulled up and Ernie walked down the path carrying Jennie’s warm jacket in case she was cold. With the end of summer the evenings were decidedly chilly.
Jennie stood up and gave Bill one last, loving kiss and it was then that Ernie stepped into the room. He wasn’t seen. The lovers were too engrossed in themselves to be aware of the slight gasp he made as he turned and left.
Bill left soon after and Jennie was tearful as she set the table for supper, after which Geoff would drive her home. The family burst in, talking about the film, arguing about which was the best part of the Abbot and Costello comedy. Marie carried a steaming package of chips that were shared between the plates and eaten with bread and a scraping of margarine. Cocoa followed and Violet went to bed.
The boys went soon after and Rhodri put the dishes in cold water and went up to his room.
‘Well?’ Marie asked when the children were quiet. ‘Did you tell him?’
‘He’s leaving. Going to start again in another town. He’ll have no trouble finding work.’ To put the others off the scent she pretended to talk about someone else; ‘Electricians are in demand now, with electric cookers becoming popular and electric light replacing gas. Did you know,’ she said, needing to talk but without saying anything important. ‘Did you know these new prefabs have a fridge and the neatest kitchen, and electric light? Marvellous they are by all accounts.’ She chattered on: silences had to be avoided or she would fill them with her tears.
‘When is he leaving?’ Marie wanted to know.
‘Within the week. It has to be soon or we’re both afraid we’ll change our minds.’
Geoff said nothing. Better the sisters dealt with it on their own. He secretly thought Bill was a louse, but he didn’t want to upset either of the women by saying so. He now suspected that Bill was responsible for a young girl being sent away in disgrace some years ago, although he didn’t know the outcome. Perhaps she had married, he hoped to someone more deserving of her than Bill James. He kept that opinion to himself too. He
helped Jennie out of the van, sorted out her crutches and saw her to the door before waving goodbye and driving back to the shop.
Jennie looked up, expecting the door to open and her caring husband to be there, listening for the sound of the van and ready to open the door for her and help her inside. When the door wasn’t opened she shrugged. He must be listening to something on the wireless or the gramophone. She turned the knob but the door didn’t give. That was odd. They didn’t lock the doors except just before they went to bed. She struggled with her stick and got her key out of her handbag. The key turned but still the door didn’t open.
Unable to manage a torch, she limped cautiously on her crutches around to the back of the house, and at the kitchen door the same thing happened. She began to knock angrily, calling for Ernie to let her in. Although she knocked for several minutes the house remained silent. Bill wouldn’t be home yet, as they had arranged, so there was only Ernie.
She began to worry. Why would he be out at this time, she wondered, as she made her way back to the front door. ‘Ernie? Are you there?’ Belatedly she began to wonder whether he was ill and needed help. She shouted through the letter box and peered in, trying to see, but the lights were all out. The place seemed devoid of human life.
Anxious now, she wondered who she could contact. The police? Ambulance? Bending again to shout through the letter box, she called, ‘Ernie, dear? I’m going to call an ambulance, in case you’ve fallen and can’t get to the door.’
A sound above her made her look up to see a window opening. ‘I don’t need an ambulance, Jennie. Go away. I never want you in this house again. Don’t worry, I’ll send your clothes to your lying sister.’
‘Ernie? What’s wrong?’ she asked as dread chilled her. ‘Are you ill?’
‘Not ill, no, nothing that believable.’
‘Then let me in, please, Ernie, tell me who’s upset you.’
‘Go away. Go back to Bill. I never want to see either of you again.’
The House by the Brook Page 23