by Ann Purser
She could see Ivy struggling to her feet, reaching for her stick, and advancing towards the door. “Who is it?” Her voice was harsh and peremptory.
Lois moved to the window and shouted, “It’s Mrs. Meade. Can I come in for a few minutes?”
After bolts were drawn and the lock turned, Ivy Beasley stood looking at her. “Oh, it’s you,” she said. “You’d better come in, now you’re here. Though I’ve no complaints. Bill is doing very well, now I’ve got him trained. You’re not going to take him away from me, are you?” she added with a touch of anxiety.
Lois shook her head. “No, no, Miss Beasley, nothing like that. I’ve really come to ask for your help, you being the most knowledgeable person on local history and that.”
Ivy frowned. “I’m not a gossip, Mrs. Meade,” she said, and Lois gulped. Ivy Beasley, in her time, had been the biggest and cruellest gossip for miles around, and though somewhat mellowed in old age, her wits were still razor-sharp. “What is it you want to know?” Ivy asked grudgingly.
“It’s to do with my business,” lied Lois. “There’s been talk of old Mr. Cox—William Cox—who farms in Farnden. Seems he’s getting too old to manage, and I wondered if I should call on him and offer some help. I give a very reduced rate to people who really cannot cope, but want to stay living in their own home.”
Ivy Beasley was on her in a second. “So why don’t I get a reduced rate?” she snapped, and added, “Not that I would accept it. I can still pay my way, and don’t want no favours. Anyway, you want to know about the Coxes?” Lois nodded. “You’d better sit down, then,” Ivy began, settling back in her chair. “I know quite a bit about that family. My mother and old Grandmother Cox were good friends. Mother didn’t have many friends, but Ethel Cox seemed to like her. They were two out of the same basket. William was older than me, but sometimes we were left to play together while the women put the world to rights over a cup of tea.”
“Was he an only?” Lois said, and Ivy glared at her.
“If you’re going to interrupt all the time, you might as well get going. My time is precious, you know.”
Doing what? thought Lois, but apologized, and promised to be quiet.
“And, since you asked, yes, he was the only one. And thoroughly spoilt, as a result. He got the farm in due course, and worked it well. Always had a bit of a chip on his shoulder, and married beneath him. No children turned up, and his wife died a long while ago, never having made much of a mark on the rest of us. He’s a tetchy old man now, and he’ll probably set the dog on you. If you ask me, it’d be best to stay away and let him get on with it.” She paused, and Lois judged it would be safe to ask a question.
“How’d he get on with other farmers? Couldn’t some of them give him a hand?”
“Hah! Not them!” Ivy replied. “Especially them that go hunting. And that’s most of them. Why? Because he banned the hunt from his land. Every year the Master would go and see him, butter him up and hope to change his mind. But he’d just smile and shake his head. If you ask me, he got a kick out of banning ‘em. Claimed he was fond of foxes, and used to sit in his old Land Rover in the woods, watching the cubs play around in the evenings. Foxes got used to him, I reckon.” Ivy’s head drooped back on her cushion, and she closed her eyes.
Old bag! thought Lois, who knew perfectly well that this was an unsubtle way of getting rid of her. But she was happy with what had been said, and got up quietly. Ivy’s eyes shot open. “You going?” she said. “I’ll shut up behind you. And mind you look after that Bill. He’s a good lad.” Lois assured her she would, and walked quickly away.
As she drove off, she realized nothing had been said about Herbert Everitt. Ah well, another time. She knew Ivy too well to hope for anything more today.
E
LEVEN
“MORNING, MUM. AND YOU CAN LEAVE THAT DOG outside on the hook. It’s what it’s there for.”
Lois marvelled at how like herself Josie had become. “Less of the sharp tongue, Josie,” Lois said, picking up Jeems. “Or I shall be taking my custom elsewhere.”
“There is nowhere else,” said Josie. “Unless you get in your van and go off to Tesco for a box of matches.”
“I haven’t come for a box of matches. Look, here’s a list, and I’ll pick up the stuff at lunchtime.” It was a long list, and Josie blew her mother a kiss.
“I love you really,” she said.
“Ditto.” Lois laughed and left the shop. She put down Jeems, and they set off at a cracking pace towards the edge of the village. Some way past the last of the council houses, Lois turned into a footpath across a field and released the puppy from her lead. She tore off at speed towards what Lois could now see was a bunch of sheep up ahead. “Damn!” Lois yelled after Jeems, but she was deaf to everything but the call of her instinct to chase anything that ran. Lois set off, running as fast as she could, and caught up as the sheep began to panic. “Come here, y’ little devil!” Lois put on a final spurt and caught the runty tail just in time.
“Bad dog!” said Lois sternly, and re-fixed the lead. “Phew, I’m knackered,” she told the unrepentant dog, and perched on the edge of a dilapidated brick edifice sunk into the ground. It was not very comfortable, and Lois looked at the rusty pipe coming from one end, guessing that it contained a water tank. Well, I’m more than glad to see it, uncomfortable or not, she thought, and after getting her breath back, she walked on.
“That’s your walk for today,” she cautioned Jeems, as they reached home. “I’ve got an errand this afternoon and it definitely does not include you.”
LOIS PARKED HER VAN AT THE ENTRANCE TO WILLIAM Cox’s house, and cautiously opened the gate. At once, the sheepdog sped towards her, barking frantically. She stood her ground, and it stopped, grovelling towards her on its haunches.
“Come ‘ere, y’ bugger!” It was Cox, hobbling across the muddy yard, scowling at Lois.
“Afternoon, Mr. Cox,” Lois said, holding out her hand. “Mrs. Meade, from the village. Can I have a word?”
“Have as many as you like, s’ long as you don’t bother me,” he grunted, and turned away.
“I shan’t keep you long,” persisted Lois. She followed him towards the house and into the kitchen, where she got a surprise. It was clean, tidy, and smelt of bleach. A saucepan simmered on the old range, and the kettle steamed gently beside it.
“Don’t remember asking you to come in,” Cox muttered. “Still, now you’re here, you’d better have a cup o’ tea. Sit down.”
Lois wondered how she could refuse, but decided that if the mugs were as clean as the rest of the kitchen, she’d come to no harm. She chatted about the weather, and the sheepdog, and received grunts in reply. He made the tea, and set a large, clean mug in front of her and sat down opposite. “So what d’you want?” he said. “I ain’t having one of them home helps.”
Lois shook her head. “No, no. I’m not from Social Services,” she said. “I run a cleaning business, but I can see you don’t need me and my team. No, I wondered if you could help me,” she added, and smiled appealingly at him.
“Get on with it, then,” he said.
She turned to look out of the window, also clean and clear. “Those are your woods, aren’t they?” she said. “D’ you often go into them? My Derek could come and help you with wooding, if you like. Must be a bit much for you now. He could come at the weekend …
William Cox did not answer her questions. “That’s not asking me for help,” he said. “You’re offering, not asking.”
Lois laughed. “I’m getting there,” she said. “I really want to know about the woods, because they’d be great for taking my dog for walks. She’s a terrier—”
“I know, I’ve seen her,” he interrupted as his eyes narrowed. “Plenty of open space for walking dogs. Why d’ you want to take her in the woods?”
“Oh, you know,” Lois said lightly. “Terriers love woods, rootin’ about, picking up scents and chasing rabbits. But if it’s not convenient …”
“Who says it’s not? If you want t’ take the little blighter in there, you’re welcome. But just watch out,” he added. “Don’t go too far in. Stick to the edges, and if the dog goes off, wait until she comes back. They always do, unless they get stuck down a rabbit hole, which ain’t likely.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Lois said, draining her cup of tea. “Better be getting back, now. And don’t forget, if you need help, New Brooms is always ready with the mop and bucket.”
Suddenly a broad smile crossed Cox’s face. “Right y’ are, then,” he said. “And if you’re walking in the woods, call in for a cuppa. Any time. And don’t worry about Rosie. I’ll chain her up.” He hobbled after her to the gate, and as she drove off she could see his hand was raised in farewell.
“Well, that was a doddle,” Lois said, coasting down the hill into the village. “Tomorrow, to the woods!”
T
WELVE
THE NEXT DAY, A MONSOON SEEMED TO HAVE SETtled over Long Farnden. Nobody in their right minds would take a puppy for a walk in the downpour. A break in the rain halfway through the afternoon looked promising, but Lois was keeping an appointment with old Ellen Biggs, who lived in the small Victorian lodge at the gates of Ringford Hall. The now frail ex-cook at the big house had no cleaning complaints, but she was another one reluctant to accept help, and had finally been persuaded by a deal with Lois. Ellen would allow a cleaner to call, provided that once a month she baked a rich chocolate cake, and Lois called for a generous slice with a cup of tea. Although Ellen was well-liked in the village, and Ivy Beasley and Doris Ashbourne came to see her most days, there were still hours and hours when nothing happened and she had no one to talk to. She missed the hustle and bustle up at Ringford Hall, and loved to talk to Lois, who always arrived well-primed with gossip from the other villages to entertain her.
The rain began again, and Lois looked out of Ellen’s small, arched window with irritation. “Damn!” she said. “I’d hoped to take the dog for a walk in the woods, but now look at it!”
“Never mind, dear,” Ellen said sympathetically. “The forecast is good for tomorrow. Anyway, what woods were you talking about?”
“Up on the hill behind Farnden.” Lois finished the last of the cake crumbs and licked her lips. “Very good cake,” she said, getting to her feet, as always. “Thanks a lot, Ellen.”
“You mean old Cox’s woods?” Ellen was suddenly serious, and Lois sat down again.
“Did you know him?” she said. “O’ course I did,” Ellen said. “He married my sister Martha. She was a fair bit younger than him, but died first, poor gel.”
“Was he a good husband?” Lois saw that Ellen was tired, and felt bad about asking her questions when the old lady should have been settling down for a nap. But this was important. It was very likely that Cox had seen Herbert Everitt walking his dog in the woods, and could well know something about his disappearance. Something connected with the past?
“Not what I’d call a good husband,” Ellen said flatly. “If I’d had the chance, I reckon I’d have said no, but she was mad keen. His family weren’t so enthusiastic, as I remember. Reckoned their William was marrying beneath him.”
“Were they nasty to her?”
“Not exactly nasty … They just ignored her. Never sought her out for comin’ to tea. Blamed her for not havin’ children. But she were quite happy on the farm at first. Liked the animals and them woods you were talking about. Bluebells and primroses in there in the spring, y’ know. Loads of ‘em.”
“And what else was in the woods?” Lois said.
Ellen turned her head sharply and stared at Lois. “What d’ you mean? D’ you know something about them woods?” Lois shook her head, unwilling to lie, and Ellen continued, “Because if you do, Lois Meade, and they’re still at it, you’d do well to stay clear. I reckon it was something in them woods that frightened my sister into the state she was in. Never really got better, and faded away.”
“What were they at? And who’s they?”
“No need for you to know, if you don’t know already. Just stay well away, that’s my advice. Now, my dear, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a little shut-eye. It’s about my usual time. Thanks for coming, and take care of that family of yours.”
LOIS PONDERED ON ELLEN’S SUDDEN INTEREST IN HER walking in the woods. So her sister had been Cox’s wife. The sister of a servant would not have gone down well as William’s future bride, and the family were clearly not very kind to her. Was it them that turned the middle of the woods into a prohibited area? Only the clan allowed to watch a traditional sport? But William hadn’t seemed too keen on badger-baiting. Lois had seen the result of his position with her own eyes. Derek had said most of the village was involved at one time. An exaggeration, she was sure, but clearly it had not been a minority sport in Farnden in young Martha’s day.
Anyway, why am I so interested? she asked herself. It was not as if she was a seasoned campaigner against cruelty to wildlife. Not her thing at all. No, she was more than ever convinced that the disappearance of Herbert Everitt and the secrets in Cox’s woods were in some way connected. And that shadowy woman with her killer terriers—fighting terriers?—why was she so curious about Lois’s mundane cleaning visits? Tomorrow was cleaning day at Herbert’s, so perhaps an excuse would occur to her for a call on the woman behind the curtains.
WHEN LOIS ARRIVED HOME, A LARGE AND SHINING motorbike stood in the drive. Jamie! Her heart leapt. Her youngest son had given no warning that he would be coming, but then that was quite usual. She suppressed the thought that he only came home when he wanted something, often money, and rushed in to greet him. He was sitting at the kitchen table with Jeems on his lap, his grandmother’s eyes fixed fondly upon him.
He stood up, handed the puppy to Lois, and then hugged them both. “Hey! You’re squeezing her!”
Lois kissed his rough cheek warmly, and turned to Gran. “So when did the prodigal return, Mum?”
“When I was in the middle of hanging out the washing,” Gran said.
“So I helped her,” Jamie said. “Shall I pour you a cuppa, Mum? I bet you’ve had a hard day, scrubbin’ and polishin’ and looking after the old ladies …”
“That’s quite enough of that. It’s true I’ve been to see old Ellen at Ringford, but that’s more a social call.”
“Nice cake?” said Gran.
Lois ignored her, and sat down to fire questions at Jamie. How was he getting on with his music studies? Did he like his new mentor, one of the best-known concert pianists in the country? And was he eating properly?
“Everything’s fine, Mum. I know Dad thinks I’ll never get a proper job, but I’m so lucky to be studying with Alf, and he thinks I stand a good chance of success … some day!”
“Never mind about Dad,” Lois said. “Why are you here? Or have you been missing your old folks?” She knew this was the last thing that would bring him home, and waited.
“Well, it’s like this,” he said. “I’ve got this girl—I’ve told you about Helen—and we are planning on sharing a flat … It’s quite expensive, but really nice.”
“What do you mean ‘sharing a flat’? Does that include sharing a bed?” Gran had reacted quickly and disapprovingly.
Jamie looked at his mother. “Yes, it does,” he said. “Of course, Helen would pay half the rent, but I’d still need a bit more money. What d’ you think, Mum?”
Lois was silent for a few seconds, then she said, “Well, if you’ve enough time to stay here overnight, I’ll discuss it with your father.” She was very serious, and Gran rounded on her.
“Why don’t you say ‘No’ straight away, Lois!” she said, her voice rising in alarm. “Surely you’re not having him living with a girl when he’s still so young and a student?”
Not for the first time, Lois gently explained to her mother that this was a matter for Jamie and his mother and father, and nobody else. Gran at once retreated into a huff, and went out into the garde
n to check the washing.
After that, Jamie and Lois chatted amiably and did not mention the matter until Derek came home. Then the discussion became heated, with Lois on Jamie’s side, and Derek unsure of what his attitude should be. He remembered so well the blissful times he and Lois had had before they were married, and the sleeping together didn’t bother him. He and Lois were both doing well in their jobs, and could maybe afford to give Jamie a bit more. Lois said she’d be prepared to contribute, and so the evening ended in an edgy peace. It was not until Lois lay awake in bed, listening to Derek’s snores, that she thought about the woman behind the curtains, and how she could get to speak to her. An idea came to her, and she smiled. That would do it. She was asleep in minutes.
T
HIRTEEN
LOIS ARRIVED LATER THAN USUAL AT HERBERT’S house. It did not matter much when she arrived. Herbert would not be there to be annoyed by unpunctuality. She wondered if Cowgill had made any progress in finding him. She was no nearer, and determined to speed things up a little. After an hour or so cleaning, she took a key from the ring Reg Abthorpe had given her, went out to the garden shed, and unlocked it. Leaving the door ajar, she went back into the house and looked across the road. Sure enough, she could just see a shape behind the net curtains and set out to ask for help.
It was some time before the front door opened, and a furious barking from somewhere at the back of the house accompanied the wispy woman as she held the door open. She did not remove the security chain. “Good morning,” said Lois, in her best professional manner. “So sorry to bother you, but I wonder if you could help?”
“What d’you want?” the woman said in a scratchy whisper. Lois smiled encouragingly. “It’s just that I’ve noticed the garden shed across the road is open. Door not locked. The gardener must’ve forgot, and there’s quite a lot of valuable tools in there. I wondered if you maybe had a key to the shed? Or could you tell me where the gardener lives? Oh, and by the way, I’m Mrs. Meade, the cleaner. My daughter keeps the village shop. Quite respectable, in case you were wondering!” She was glad to see a faint smile crossing the woman’s face, but it vanished in seconds.