by Ann Purser
Lois thought of lying, but decided to own up. “At the flower stall,” she admitted, “in reception.”
Ellen cackled. “Thanks anyway,” she said, and handed them to a hovering nurse. “Put these in water, there’s a good girl,” she ordered. She turned and said confidentially to Lois, “They look after you well in here. Better than a hotel.”
Lois sat down in a chair beside Ellen, and was delighted to see her so strong and chirpy. It was not going to be so difficult after all.
Lois and Ellen exchanged inconsequential conversation until a nurse politely enquired if Lois would like a coffee, directing her to a machine out in the corridor. “What d’ you think, Ellen?” Lois said. “Would you like me to stay, or are you too tired to talk?”
Ellen cackled loudly, causing heads to turn. “Good God no, dear!” she said. “You’re a long time dead … Plenty of time to rest then.” And she directed the nurse to fetch her friend a cup of coffee at once. “Black or white, Lois?” she said. The nurse winked at Lois and obeyed orders.
“Now then, Lois, let’s get to what you really want to know,” said Ellen, settling herself more comfortably in her chair. “It’s about them Coxes, ain’t it? Go on, then, ask me some questions.”
T
HIRTY-O
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IT WAS JUST BAD LUCK, THOUGHT LOIS, DRIVING home from the hospital. Bad luck that a nurse had appeared at just the wrong time and said she must take Ellen off to have an X-ray. Apparently her ankle was very swollen, and they wanted to have a good look at it. She was very sorry, but perhaps Mrs. Meade would be able to come back tomorrow? No, she wasn’t sure how long the X-ray would take, as there was always a queue.
Of course I can go back tomorrow, Lois tried to reassure herself. It’s a busy day, but I can make time. Not likely, though, that Ellen would be in such a loquacious mood, nor so openly willing to talk about her brother-in-law. Damn, damn, damn! Lois banged her hands on the steering wheel in frustration, forgetting that this would produce a raucous beep. The driver of a white van in front stuck out his hand and raised two fingers, and she could see in the wing mirror his face contorted with rage. Lois calmed down. She turned down a side road to take a different route back to the village, and avoid the van driver.
This way, she passed through Round Ringford, and decided on the spur of the moment to call on Ivy Beasley. If she was in a good mood, perhaps she would have some memories of Ellen’s sister, Martha, and her unfortunate marriage. Just at this moment, Lois had a strong feeling that if she could sort out the mystery of William Cox she would have a good chance of unravelling the tangled mess. Not for the first time, she reflected that it must be more than badgers.
For once, the main street of Ringford was busy. A small gathering of people stood at the bus stop. A Jack Russell terrier wandered down the middle of the road, seemingly belonging to nobody. The vicar pinned a piece of paper to the notice board by the shop, and a woman sat on the top step, blinking at the sun and chatting to an old lady. Lois pulled up outside Miss Beasley’s house, and switched off the engine. Then the old lady turned around, and Lois saw it was Ivy herself. That was that, then. Nothing would persuade Ivy Beasley back into her house if she had decided to take the air. Lois noticed that she did not have a stick with her, and as she took a couple of steps towards Lois, she was walking well. Caught you, Ivy B! Ah, well, not my day, thought Lois, and turned on the engine once more.
“Wait!” It was an imperious voice, and Miss Beasley raised a hand to emphasize the command. Now she was hobbling, and as she approached Lois’s car, grimaced with pain. “What’s the hurry, Mrs. Meade?” she said, breathing heavily. “Have you come to see me?” Lois nodded. “In that case, you can help me up the steps and make me a cup of tea. I think I’ve over reached myself.” Lois obeyed, and as she glanced back to look at the shop-keeper, saw that she was smiling broadly.
Settled in her chair with a cup of tea, Miss Beasley said sharply, “Right, what have you come to see me about? Bill’s not leaving, is he? If so, I shall blame you for not making enough effort to keep him.”
Lois gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. “No, no,” she said. “It’s not about Bill. I was just passing. I’ve been to see Ellen, and she was much more like her old self. She sent her love,” she added, though this was not strictly true.
“Huh! Love’s not much use to me now! What I need is plenty of help. Still, I’m glad to hear the foolish old woman is getting better. Stubborn and stupid, I always tell her, and it doesn’t do, Mrs. Meade. It doesn’t do at all.”
“You’ve been friends for a long time, haven’t you?” Lois said.
“Longer than I like to remember,” said Ivy, draining her cup. “Any more in the pot?”
Lois refilled her cup, and said, “I expect you remember her sister. Martha, was it?”
“Of course I remember Martha. Different as chalk and cheese, those two. Ellen was always the leader, and Martha trailed behind. But she was the pretty one, and William Cox fell for her, not Ellen … who, I might tell you, was keen on him herself! But looks count when you’re young.” Ivy was silent, remembering her own lack of attraction for the opposite sex. “I fancy a biscuit. Over there, in the cupboard. Green tin with cats on it. Bring it here.” Lois once more did as she was bid, and handed the tin to Ivy, who opened it and peered in. “Mm,” she said. “Now I remember what I went to the shop for. Only three left.”
“I won’t have one,” said Lois. “Haven’t offered you one,” snapped Ivy. “But you might go next door and buy a packet for me on your way out. Was there anything else, besides bringing me daft messages from Ellen Biggs?”
“I was interested to hear what you say about the Biggs sisters. Must have been quite a do when Martha and William got married? Was it here in Ringford?”
“Yes, though how that William Cox had the nerve to enter a church, I do not know. Considering …”
“Considering what?”
“Why do you want to know?” Ivy frowned, looking suspiciously at Lois. “Is this something to do with him gone into a home, and the farm being up for sale? Are you working with social services?”
Lois shook her head, and decided to jump in at the deep end. “Just nosey, that’s all.” She smiled. “It sounds like a sad tale, with the Cox family disapproving of Martha, and him not being a very good husband.”
“Good! He was downright bad! Always was bad. Spoilt by his family, and no sense of responsibility. Roving eye, too! He had all the willin’ ones, and some of those that weren’t willing, so I heard. There was scandal up at the Hall, when Joyce the garden girl produced a baby in amongst the runner beans, and swore it was William Cox who forced her into it. Looked just like Cox, some said, poor little soul.”
“What a louse,” said Lois feelingly. “What on earth made Martha marry him? Was she pregnant too?”
“Dunno,” Ivy said. “Ellen won’t talk about it much. But she was very upset when her sister started lying about bruises. Said she’d banged into a door, tripped over the dog, missed her footing on the stairs. All that kind of nonsense.”
In the silence that followed, Lois wondered if she dare ask one more question. Well, why not? She was a match for Ivy Beasley, wasn’t she? She opened her mouth to speak, but Ivy got in first.
“Time you were going. I’m tired, and I need a sleep before Doris Ashbourne comes down here with her latest gossip. Good day, Mrs. Meade. Remember what I said about Bill,” she added. She leaned her head against a cushion and closed her eyes. Lois took the hint, and as she prepared to lock the front door behind her, heard Ivy shout, “Don’t bother to lock the door. Doris will be down in a minute.”
Lois walked down the garden path, and at the gate met Doris. “Hello, Mrs. Meade,” she said pleasantly. “Been to see Ivy? How is she today?”
“Fine, I would say. But still Miss Beasley!” Lois held open the gate, and Doris walked past her. “By the way,” added Lois, “do you remember Martha Biggs, Ellen’s sister?”
&nb
sp; “The one that married a Cox?” Doris’s smile faded. “Couldn’t forget her, could we. Poor woman. Still, money talks, and no more was said after she died. I can’t look at that William Cox without a shiver. Oh, I can hear Ivy shouting,” she added, and smiled again. “Mustn’t keep the boss waiting! Bye, Mrs. Meade. Nice to see you.”
Lois drove off with mounting excitement. What had Doris meant by “money talks” and “no more was said”? Had old Cox had a hand in her death? And yet, she reminded herself, that time he had given her a cup of tea he had seemed nice enough. She had warmed to him. But then, even old devils know how to turn on the charm.
It was not until she was halfway home that she remembered Ivy’s biscuits. Trouble! But she had been too taken up with the strange news that Ellen had been keen on old Cox too.
A CONVERSATION IN DOTS AND DASHES—OR, MORE exactly, in short knocks and long scrapes—is a laborious business, and William Cox was tired. He was always tired, and had trouble keeping awake long enough to reply to the message. He knew now that it was old Herbert Everitt from Blackberry Gardens next door. He had tried to concentrate on why both of them should be in this place … this place … where were they? He listened hard to the knocks coming through the wall and heard: “S … T … O.. P. T. … A .. K … I.. N … G. T … H … E.. P. I.. L.. L.”
What pill? Cox shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. The pill …? Ah! The pill that came with his morning cup of tea! But hadn’t someone said it was necessary? The doctor had prescribed it. He could not clearly remember. Was it when he’d woken up from a long sleep and discovered himself in this … hotel? Hospital? His lids were heavy, and he struggled to stay awake to sort things out. His last thought before succumbing to sleep was that he must stop taking the pill.
T
HIRTY-T
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WHEN LOIS RETURNED TO THE HOSPITAL NEXT day, she was greeted at the ward door by the ward Sister. “Ah, Mrs. Meade, have you come to see Ellen?” Lois nodded, trying to look past the bulky figure to catch sight of Ellen. “Well, perhaps you could come with me to my office for just a minute or two? Thank you.”
Lois followed obediently. “Please sit down,” said Sister, pointing to a chair. “Now, I know you popped in to see her yesterday …”
“Yes, and I found her very well, and quite her old self,” Lois said. “Has something happened?”
“Well, yes. During the night, the nurse checked on Ellen and saw that something was wrong. It seems she had a slight stroke. Nothing that she won’t recover from, but she is an old lady and it will take a while. For the moment, we are keeping her calm and quiet, and so if you could perhaps come back in a few days’ time, I am sure you will be able to have a few minutes with her.” Lois nodded acceptance, and Sister resumed, “After you had gone yesterday, the nurse reported that Ellen was very excited and a little disturbed. Perhaps something was said that agitated her?” Lois said nothing. “Well, she’s in good hands, and will, I am sure, be very pleased to see you again soon. Now, I have to leave you, but you know the way out? Good morning, Mrs. Meade.”
Dismissed, thought Lois. She had felt sick with guilt when the Sister implied she had contributed to Ellen’s stroke. But Ellen had seemed so well and cheerful! It was as if she was about to unload something which had been on her mind for a long time, and Lois had been delighted that Ellen had come to the decision herself, without any prompting, or being led to the subject of William Cox. Maybe their conversation had nothing to do with the stroke. After all, Ellen was a good old age. Oh, please God, Lois said to herself, don’t let her lose her marbles. Lois acknowledged that it was a rotten thought, and selfish and despicable, but she still had hopes of getting vital information from Ellen Biggs.
LOIS WAS BACK IN FARNDEN JUST IN TIME FOR THE weekly meeting of New Brooms. She felt frustrated and irritable. When she walked into her office and found all but Ben Cullen there already, she felt even more irritable. No time, now, for useful chat and pleasant togetherness. “Morning all,” she said shortly, and there were answering murmurs. “All here already, I see. I hope you haven’t skimped on this morning’s clients.” She could have bitten her tongue out, looking at the shocked faces in front of her.
Bill was the first to speak. “Oh, well, Mrs. M,” he said in a steely voice, “we’ve all had a few drinks in the pub before coming on here. Excuse us if we’re not too quick on the uptake.”
There was a silence, and the ghost of a smile crossed Enid Abraham’s face. Lois stared at Bill, and then slumped at her desk. “Oh Bill,” she said, “and everyone … please take no notice of me. I’ve had a bad morning so far, but that don’t excuse it. Please forget I said that bloody awful thing.”
There was an audible release of breath, and everybody spoke at once. Was there anything they could do to help? They’d thought she looked a bit pale when she came in. And everybody slipped up some time. She was not to think any more about it. And, from Bill, “As long as it doesn’t happen again.” Lois felt duly reproved.
At this point, a knock at the door was answered by Gran, and she ushered Ben Cullen into the office. Lois introduced him to the team, and they smiled a welcome.
“He’s on approval,” Lois said. “Two weeks, to see how he gets on. Then either way, if it isn’t working, he’s free to leave or I’m free to let him go.”
“I love that phrase,” Bill said. “ ‘Let him go.’ Puts all the blame on him, one way or another.”
“I don’t think so, Bill,” said Lois, wondering what on earth was wrong with him this morning. She hoped it was nothing to do with Rebecca and the baby.
Ben beamed. “I know exactly what you mean, Mrs. M,” he said, at once adopting the name the others gave her. “You can be sure I’ll put my all into it. I’m really keen.”
Floss choked to cover disbelief, but the others assured him he’d be fully hooked on the job after two weeks, and they all got down to the business of the meeting.
“You can go with Enid at first,” she said to Ben. “You will learn a lot from her, so please take notice. You’re at the vet’s house this afternoon, aren’t you, Enid? Right, then liaise together after the meeting.” There were no other changes in the schedules, and Lois said, “Now, anything to report? Any complaints, or things you’d like us to talk about?” She looked around the team, and hoped the ensuing silence meant there was nothing.
But then Sheila spoke up. “There was one thing, Mrs. M. It’s about that Mr. Everitt that you do the cleaning for.”
“Go on,” Lois said, keeping an even voice.
“Well, my Sam used to do a bit of woodin’ for old Cox, and now the farm’s for sale. I haven’t heard where he’s gone—probably into The Pines. That’s where most of the old ones go when they need care. But anyway,” she said, “about Mr. Everitt. Sam was in the pub and overheard a couple of blokes—strangers, he said—talking. They were speaking softly but my Sam’s got very good hearing, you know. He’s trained it up for when he’s listening for foxes and badgers near the pheasant pens. He can hear everything and tell you what’s goin’ on in the woods!”
Can he, though? thought Lois, and willed Sheila to get to the point. She waited patiently, knowing Sheila was easily offended.
“Sam picked up the name Everitt, and listened carefully,” Sheila continued. “They were saying they wished they could know a bit more about him. Specially his financial resources, they said. And they laughed. That was all, but I thought you’d like to know.”
“Did Sam say what they looked like, these men?” Lois spoke sharply, and all turned to look at her. For them, this was no revelation, was it? Lots of people would like to know what had happened to Herbert Everitt.
“Yeah, he did. Now, let me see. One of ‘em was tall and thin, with one of them nutcracker faces. And the other was bald and fat, Sam said. He’s very observant, is my Sam,” she added proudly.
“Thanks, Sheila. Sam certainly has a sharp eye and ear. No wonder his boss is so keen to keep him! I’ve heard he’s tr
ying to persuade Sam not to retire?”
“Quite right,” said Sheila. “And I don’t want him under my feet all day, so I’m backing his boss!”
They all laughed, and conversation became general. There were no more business matters, and the meeting closed. Lois went back to the kitchen and found Gran in deep conversation on the telephone. The smell of frying sausages was powerful, and Lois realized she’d had no coffee and nothing since an early breakfast.
“Who was that?” she said, as Gran came to the table.
“Mrs. Tollervey-Jones, ringing from Scotland. Seems she forgot to mention she’d be there on her annual holiday. Bit like the queen! Anyway, she wants Floss to go in as usual, but keep the work down to an hour, mean old bag. She’ll be away for four or five weeks, unless something comes up and she’s needed back here.”
Lois nodded slowly. “How does she expect Floss to clean a dusty old mansion in an hour? Well, I suppose we’ll think of something. Thanks, Mum. Now, I’m starving!”
AFTER LUNCH, SITTING ALONE IN THE KITCHEN AND mulling over the meeting, Lois thought again about Bill and his out-of-character behaviour this morning. Perhaps she would give him a ring, and have a chat. Maybe something he said would give her a clue. She got up and went into her office.
“Bill? How’s it going?”
“Fine. I’m upstairs at Ivy’s and she’s out in the garden. Better make it snappy.”
“Right. I just wanted to check that all was OK with you.”
“Everything’s fine, thank you. Oops, have to go now. She’s on the move. Bye.”
Lois put down the telephone and sat for a few minutes doing nothing except turning over in her mind what could have bothered Bill. She wasn’t convinced that everything was fine. Not just her own gaffe, surely? He was always so sympathetic. Most likely something private, in which case it was no business of hers. She looked at her watch. Time to take Jeems for a walk and clear her head.