by Issy Brooke
“Ugh, gross.”
Drew pulled away from her and studied her with a new expression of surprise and amusement on his face.
“What?” she asked.
“I’ve just clocked what you’re wearing. What on earth…?”
She smoothed down the fleecy yellow fabric defensively. “It’s a onesie. Destiny bought it for me.”
Lately, her teenage niece had taken to amassing a large collection of colourful onesies. They were all-in-one garments of soft fabric, often with hoods and occasionally tails, that she would change into as soon as she got home from school. “It’s like wearing a hug,” she had told her mother and Penny.
Penny recognised the troubled young woman’s need to be somewhere safe and comforting, and didn’t mock her, which had led Destiny to believe that Penny wanted one herself.
“It’s spectacular,” Drew said.
“I resisted wearing it but I felt so rubbish today that it seemed like the perfect thing. And actually, it’s not bad. I’ll wear it again.”
“Not out in public.” Drew laughed. “Well, I am sorry for the misunderstanding, and for disturbing you when you were resting. But I’m not sorry to have seen this vision. It will last with me for a long time. I’ll be off, now, though, and let you get back to bed. My hands have just defrosted. Seems like an ideal time to get back out in the freezing night.”
“Sorry. But thank you for coming.” She rose to let him out.
“I hope you feel better soon. And don’t worry about the Clive thing. Anyone with half a brain will soon see that it wasn’t your fault – he made the choice to go up the ladder, didn’t he? We’ll do the badger watching another night.”
“Definitely.”
* * * *
Penny felt a thousand times better on Wednesday morning, and she used her sudden burst of energy to surge around to the industrial estate and confront Jared to find out why he hadn’t passed the message on to Drew.
She scanned the large board in the carpark. There was a map of the units laid out, and she spotted the small company that he managed the technology for. She stamped into the lobby and startled the lady that was sitting behind the reception desk.
“I’m looking for Jared Boot, please,” Penny said in a tone of voice that was very clearly not a request.
The receptionist did not hesitate. She reached for the phone and within a few minutes, Jared appeared at the back of the lobby.
“Hi, Penny!” He seemed delighted to see her. But he didn’t stop to talk to her inside. He was swinging his coat on as he walked towards her, and he steered her back out into the shared car-parking area that formed the centre of the array of industrial units.
She was in no mood to return his friendly greeting. As soon as they stepped into the cold grey day, she said, “Jared, why on earth didn’t you pass my message on to Drew for me?”
He kept smiling. And he ignored her question. “Are you feeling better today? Should you really be out and about? You still look peaky.”
“Yes, I’m fine, and yes, I should. Come on, answer me. Drew froze half to death while he was waiting for me.”
Jared’s smile finally faded and she did not like what she saw replaced on his face. “More fool him, then, for staying out in the cold,” he said. “No one made him do that. But he’s not that bright, is he?”
“Jared! I asked you for a favour!”
The crafty look that made her shudder disappeared. He looked sad. “I am sorry,” he said quietly, and she wanted to believe him. He shrugged, and she didn’t believe him. “I meant to tell him, I really did. I got back here, and it was raining, and then I was called to do something, and … and anyway, Penny, he’s not right for you. He’s a lump.”
“Excuse me?”
By now, Jared was bright red, and he stared at the ground, nervously fluttering his pale hands. “Penny, you’ve only just started seeing Drew, and I know you’re new to the area, sort of, still, and I think you could do better, because really, you know, he hasn’t stuck at one thing for very long, and also, you know, why is he still single, at his age, you know?”
“He is not single,” she said slowly and deliberately. “He is with me.”
“Until he was with you, he was single, though, and that’s a bit odd for someone who’s older.”
“I was single, too.”
“Yeah but … you’re different. And I want you to know that I would do anything for you!” he blurted out in an unexpected rush.
She shook her head, but he was still looking down. She felt sorry for him. “Oh, Jared. Anything except pass a message on, right?”
“Penny, please … do you think … I think you need … I … we … ”
She had a horrible feeling he was about to suggest that she drop Drew, and get together with him. She tried to speak gently while making sure she was very, very clear about her meaning. “No, Jared. Listen to me. I am with Drew. We’ve both been single for a while, but it’s working out nicely. I am interested in him. I tend to be interested in men my own age. Jared, you’re a lot younger than me. There are plenty of women who would be happy to date you. But I am not one of those women. I am upset that you lied to me – no, listen, that’s what you did. You promised me one thing but you did not do it. I won’t sugar-coat this. I’m upset. And there is no chance we could ever get together. There never was.”
She knew, as did most women who reached their late middle age, that any sign of ambiguity would be seized on by a desperate would-be lover. She had to be unequivocal.
She hated it; she would have preferred to have let him down more gently. She remembered the problems she had had when she first moved to Glenfield, and the unfortunate things that happened with Warren.
That could not be allowed to happen again.
Jared made a squeaking sound. He cleared his throat, but found nothing to say.
He simply turned tail and fled back into the unit where he worked.
* * * *
“I suppose I ought to be flattered,” Penny said on the phone, later, as she talked with her friend Francine who lived locally.
“Ooh yes! He could be a toyboy!” Francine squealed in excitement. “How trendy.”
“I don’t mean that. Ugh, I can’t even imagine. What do women see in the idea of a younger man?” Penny shuddered. She stretched her legs out on her sofa, and cradled the phone against her ear. “Give me a man who knows life, any day. I prefer a man who can run his own house, empty his own bins, and has a calendar that shows when everyone’s birthdays are.”
“Maybe Jared does all that.”
“He is barely into his thirties. He probably still eats takeaways four times a week and can’t sort his laundry into separate piles. Nope. Not for me. And anyway, he’s going the wrong way about it, if he wants to make a good impression on women.” Penny shook her head even though Francine couldn’t see her. “I do feel sorry for him. I mean, the way he showed himself up. He’s probably feeling very small right now.”
“He’ll be all right. We’ve all made fools of ourselves from time to time.”
“You more than most,” Penny said.
Francine laughed merrily. “Oh, yes! Remember when I was dating Bill Travis?”
Francine’s short-lived relationship with the Detective Inspector had ended badly, in a bowl of gazpacho soup.
Penny laughed too. “Oh, it’s good to chat to you. So much has happened lately and the business with Jared is just the horrible mouldy icing on an unpleasant cake of stress.”
“I’m only down the road,” Francine reminded her. “Shall I come over?”
Penny paused. Then she said, “Yes. Please do. In fact, do you feel useful? I have a heap of website orders I need to fulfil – a Christmas rush for my prints and handmade bags – I’ll pay you in tea and cake.”
“You’re on. See you soon.”
Chapter Seven
Every time the phone rang, or a car pulled up outside her house, or someone walked past the window, Penny flinched.
>
She hadn’t heard anything further from the police since she had been questioned about her whereabouts, and her responsibilities for the ladder.
The suspense ate away at her. What were they doing with her things? Was some unfortunate piece of evidence make it seem like she had pushed Clive off the ladder? She was glad that she had so much work to do. Francine had helped when she came over, and they had made a good start, but there was a lot to do – far more than she had realised.
I’ve let things slide, Penny thought. It’s understandable. Except that all the people who have paid money in good faith, of course, they won’t understand. They just want their goods delivering.
So on Thursday she put some low classical music on, and got to work with a vengeance, trying to ignore the nagging sense of fear at the back of her mind.
Rain began to lash against the windows. Kali curled up under the kitchen table, gnawing away at a marrow-filled beef bone. Penny printed off reams of customer address labels, and set about with the wrapping paper and scissors until her kitchen was like a snow-globe of activity.
Both Penny and Kali were startled by the front door opening suddenly.
“Hiya! Anyone home?”
Penny went through to the hall. Ariadne was standing by the door, her waterproof clothing glistening with rain. A small puddle was forming around her boots. There is something about seeing someone who’s been out in the rain, Penny thought, that makes them look the utter picture of dejection.
Before Penny could offer her sister any word of greeting, Ariadne launched into an epic rant.
“People! I am done with people! Honestly. So here I am, doing my job, just, you know, getting on with it. Do I complain when I have to walk other people’s dogs in the rain? No, I do not. Do I whinge? No. I put my big-girl-panties on, and a decent coat, and I get on with it.”
“Er, well done.”
Ariadne unzipped her coat and glared at Penny. “I’m not finished. I’ve been walking dogs all day, and for what?”
Penny waited, unwilling to interrupt.
“Eh?” Ariadne prompted. “For what?”
“Money?”
“Ha!” Ariadne spluttered, leaving Penny confused as to whether she’d given the right answer or not.
Ariadne took her coat off and shook it. “Because I took the dogs back to their respective owners and what happens? I get it in the neck because their dogs are – get this – wet!”
Penny frowned. “Hang on. People are complaining because you’ve walked their dogs in the rain?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re employed by them as a dog walker.”
“Yes.”
“And it’s raining.”
Ariadne looked ready to explode. “Exactly! Have you got the kettle on yet?”
“Tea?” Penny said. “I was going to offer you brandy. Come on through.”
Ariadne squelched toward the kitchen but stayed in the doorway when she saw the chaos that Penny had created. “Busy?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Tell me what’s happening with this murder thing,” Ariadne said. She leaned against the doorframe and looked sympathetic. “You do seem to attract more than your fair share of crazy.”
“Oh, tell me about it!” Penny said. “So. It’s like this…”
She had spoken with her sister on the phone, but this was their first chance to have a proper catch up, and it took nearly two cups of tea to get through the whole story. They ended up in the front room, and Ariadne listened closely.
She summed up when Penny had finished.
“You’re all suspects, aren’t you?”
Penny nodded glumly.
“But who is the most suspicious?” Ariadne continued. “There’s Clive’s sister, Linda. She sounds like a nasty piece of work. No alibi. There’s Haydn who’s already made a name for himself as being argumentative and also volatile when drunk, from what you say. There’s Jared, but I don’t quite get it. Why was he questioned? He didn’t seem to have argued as much as Linda or Haydn. And then there’s you. Again, you haven’t argued as much …”
“But I left the ladder out. It is probably an accident, but I am to blame.”
“You might be partly responsible. Perhaps he went up the ladder to sabotage the lights, and then someone came along to argue with him, and he fell.”
“Or was pushed,” Penny said.
“And that will be why the police are looking into it.”
“So even if I didn’t do the pushing, or the arguing, I am partly responsible.”
“Yes,” Ariadne said. Penny glowered.
“Thanks.”
Ariadne shrugged. “I’m just being honest. Look, I’ve been in your position, remember? I know what it’s like to be a suspect.”
And you’re also my sister, Penny thought. So you don’t have to be nice. But she knew that Ariadne did care, underneath. “Yeah, okay. Let me tell you about Jared, though. He’s always been friendly and helpful.”
“Yeah, he was helping you with photos, wasn’t he?”
“Yup. But get this…” Penny explained the recent awkward situation, and Ariadne laughed.
“Oh, the poor guy. Ouch. And you didn’t even let him down gently!”
“I tried, but I didn’t want him to get any mixed messages. There’s no point letting a man think there’s some hope when there definitely is not.”
Ariadne agreed. “I am sure he’ll find someone soon. He’s clever, he’s kind, and he’s pretty sporty, isn’t he? I saw him earlier when I was slogging along with two Jack Russells and an angry pug.”
“You saw him out in this rain?”
“Yeah, running. Well, limping. I caught up with him when he had stopped to do those silly jogger exercises by a low wall. I asked if he was okay, but he said it was just tendonitis. Then he splashed off. He didn’t look happy, though.”
“I’m not surprised.”
They were interrupted by the postman knocking on the front door. Kali was there first, as Penny had managed to condition the dog to associate all delivery people with treats. As far as Kali was concerned, strangers at the door were simply there to bring her a nice biscuit.
The postman handed a package to Penny, and a snack to Kali, who wolfed it down in three seconds and looked very pleased with herself.
“What’s that?” Ariadne asked as Penny came back into the front room. “Christmas presents?”
“No. Don’t mention presents. I haven’t started shopping yet. No, I dropped my phone and I had to order a replacement, that’s all.”
Ariadne stood up and started to layer into her waterproofs again. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said. “You’ll need three days just to understand the new menus and what-not on it.”
“I know. This is the worst bit. I’m going to spend the rest of the day tapping in all my new contacts.”
“If you hadn’t been so mean to Jared, I bet he could have done that in ten minutes by some techie magic.”
“Get out,” Penny said.
“Love you too.”
* * * *
Penny walked back into the kitchen, took one look at the mess she had left, grabbed her laptop and whirled away into the living room. She was not ready to get back to work yet.
Instead she did an online search for “tendonitis” and learned that it often afflicted new runners or runners who tried to do too much, too soon. It seemed a silly thing for an experienced fitness freak like Jared to get affected by.
Maybe he was so upset by things that he had taken to marathon running unexpectedly, or something.
Penny strayed onto some social media sites, and was just watching a video of a cat being scared by a cucumber, when her landline rang.
“Why aren’t you answering your mobile?” was the opening line of the caller.
“Oh, hi, Cath,” Penny said. “And how are you?”
“Oh, yeah, fine. Sorry. Are you screening your calls or something?”
“No, I broke my phone and I haven’t worke
d out how to turn my new one on, yet.” In fact it was still sitting in its box.
“Oh, right. Are you okay? I mean, with the recent … I mean, you got questioned … and no, I can’t tell you anything. But you can tell me stuff.”
Cath was a police officer who lived in Upper Glenfield, and she had been friends with Penny since Penny had moved to the area. Their friendship had occasionally been strained by Cath’s professional obligations, and by Penny’s alarming tendency to poke her nose in where it was not wanted.
But they remained close, and perhaps their relationship was all the better for the storms that they had weathered.
“It’s been awful,” Penny confessed. “And I accept that I am to blame for the dodgy ladder. I’m not responsible for health and safety at the Christmas Planning Committee any longer. I do feel incredibly guilty.”
“Oh, mate, you shouldn’t. You didn’t force anyone up that ladder … did you?”
“No!” Penny half-shouted in shock.
“Okay, okay, just checking. Look, me and you, we need a good catch-up. I’m not officially on the case, so we can meet up and it will be just like old times.”
“That would be lovely.”
“Great!” Cath said. “How about tomorrow night?”
“What did you have in mind?” Penny asked, imagining a girlie night out in Lincoln.
“Er … well, it’s the Christmas play at my kids’ school. My husband has to work, all of a sudden. I’ve got a spare ticket and I don’t think I can cope with that many badly-played recorders on my own. Do you want to come with me? And can you bring a hip-flask? Put something character-building in it, like brandy.”
Penny rolled her eyes, but she agreed.
Chapter Eight
Penny had missed a carol concert practise because of feeling ill, but they assured her that it was fine; various folks had been struck by colds and flu. She worked out how to charge her phone, and entered all the most important numbers first.
She even experimented until she could use it to make an outbound call. She remembered her first smartphone; it had seemed impossible to use. Now, with each upgrade, she picked up the tips and tricks a little more quickly.