by EJ Lamprey
'A cat? Och, Edge, with all these dogs?'
'There are cats,' Edge said defensively. 'I’ve seen them on window seats. Anyway, it’s a short term thing.'
'I’m absolutely sure it will be fine,' Megan said reassuringly and Edge walked back to her apartment, not at all reassured. The Lawns had a fairly conventional policy on domestic pets, but she couldn’t remember the exact terms. Mortimer greeted her by opening one eye, and started to lazily groom a paw as she put the kettle on.
As though the kettle had been a signal, there was a tap at the door and she opened it to Vivian, resplendent in a hideous purple and black tracksuit, and her elderly Labrador Buster. Buster beamed up at her, pushed past to go to the dog bed she kept for him and any other visiting dogs, and stopped dead at the sight of Mortimer. Mortimer continued to wash his paw and Buster, intrigued, went over to sniff at the peculiar dog. Lounging cat was replaced instantly by puffed-up angular cat and the dog stopped in his tracks. After a frozen moment he turned away and climbed sulkily into the dog bed, his back pointedly turned. Mortimer melted back into languid pose, although keeping one eye on the intruder.
'Good grief, a cat.' Vivian, who had stiffened in expectation of a scene, relaxed and turned to Edge with one quirked eyebrow. 'Where on earth did that come from?'
'Bit of a story. Staying for tea?'
'Yes please. I wasn’t sure if you’d be back. I saw you driving past this morning but we’re on our way out for a walk so I knocked on the off chance. So? The cat?'
'A colleague of Kirsty’s – well, a friend as well – has died, and she can’t have a cat in that upstairs flat of hers. Anyway, no pets allowed by her landlord, it’s a furnished flat.' Edge avoided going into any further detail. 'I’m trying to remember what the Lawns policy is on bringing animals in. There’s something niggling at me.'
'Pretty much standard, I think.' Vivian said thoughtfully. 'As best I remember, if you have a pet already, and it’s over a year old, you can bring it. They seem to feel a younger pet can be rehomed – or maybe will be a bit disruptive. I know you can’t start with new pets once you’re in. That could be a problem.'
'Damn.' Edge handed her a cup of tea and sat down herself. 'But you didn’t have Buster. You only got him, what, a year ago?'
'Yes, but that was different. He was a rescue dog, attached to the main house. The new pet thing doesn’t apply to the Trust adopting rescue animals, or residents re-homing one of the house pets. Don’t forget the founder of the Trust was very pro pets, pro animals generally. She felt anything that got people out and about walking their dogs, and talking to other pet owners, was good, not to mention the company pets provide. I suspect Katryn isn’t as keen on them but it’s written into the articles, so nothing she can do to change that.'
'And damn again. Well, Iain – er, and Kirsty – only asked me to keep him for a few days. Maybe I can keep him under the radar that long. I do rather like him, though – he’s very peaceful company.' Mortimer yawned hugely and twisted himself like a pretzel, staring green-eyed at them from an upside-down head.
'Anyway. That’s not why I came by, I wanted to talk to you about something.' Vivian took a deep breath. 'William’s got a family wedding to go to, in Dundee. He’s invited me to go with him.'
'Okay. And?'
'Edge, Dundee. He’s suggesting we stay over. In fact, go for the whole weekend. I said I’d have to think about it. A weekend away together – that’s a big step.'
Edge stared at her, then put her hand to her mouth. 'I don’t believe it,' she said in an awed voice. 'We had this conversation before. And unless my memory is completely shot, that was also a William! Don’t you remember?'
Vivian looked bemused, then thoughtful. 'You’re right. William, William… what was his surname? Davidson! Wow. But for the life of me I can’t remember what your advice was then. I do remember I didn’t go. He ended up marrying that Maryanne girl; they’d had four children when last I heard, and were emigrating to Canada to make a new start. He’d had an affair or something, it was touch and go for a bit, but she agreed to try again. William Davidson – I haven’t thought of him in years.'
'Me neither.' Edge’s eyes were dancing. 'And I do remember my advice; I said to go, but insist on a separate room in case you needed a refuge. He was the worst flirt, it must go with the name. He was quite capable of spending the whole evening with another girl, and that was also a family wedding, so you wouldn’t have known another soul. You were quite cross with me, I even remember that.'
'It wasn’t at all what I wanted to hear,' Vivian remembered and started to laugh. 'But I’ll take the advice now. I’ll suggest adjoining rooms. Dear me.' She fanned herself with her hand, going slightly pink, and Buster lifted his head to stare at her. 'Well, in that case, I need a favour. Would you take Buster for that weekend? It’s sometime towards the end of May.'
Katryn Pretorius, the South African administrator, came by not long after Vivian had left, and Edge pulled the door wide resignedly.
'You’ve come to tell me I can’t keep the cat.'
'Ja, well, Edge, you know the ruling. I don’t actually hold with keeping dogs here – health and safety, apart from anything else. But you know if you bring in a pet from outside it’ll upset people who haven’t been allowed to. Is the cat even used to living shut up all the time? I can’t be doing with a stream of people to my office complaining it’s chasing the birds from their birdfeeder, or dogs roaring around the place chasing him and knocking people over in the process.'
'I know, and I also feed wild birds, so he’ll have to live indoors. I took the cat in because the police asked me to, and in theory it’s only a few days. He can be kept inside that long. But Katryn, honestly, look at him. If I get the chance to keep him, I’m going to be very tempted.'
Katryn scratched the exact spot behind the cat’s ears, and he closed his eyes in dreamy pleasure. 'Ja, of course you are. I’m a cat person myself, and he’s a beauty.'
'He walks on the lead, too,' Edge nudged gently and Katryn looked exasperated.
'Edge, don’t make me the bad guy here. Relatively few retirement villages take pets, and the ones that do limit it to the pets you had when you moved in – and even then they usually have to be over a certain age. It’s a sensible rule. I’m going to allow him a week, and I’ll tell anyone that asks that he’s got a special dispensation for that long. But listen; don’t fall too much in love with him. I’ve been taking huge flak from Sylvia, who’s threatening to move out, because she wanted to get a puppy to get back onto the show circuit and I had to put my foot down. She went straight over my head to Hamish, but he stood firm. He’s committed himself now and he won’t be able to make any exceptions. The minute she sees this cat in your window she’ll be back in my office shouting the odds.'
Edge switched the kettle on without asking – Katryn had probably never turned down an offer of tea in her life.
'So let her move out,' she remarked unkindly over her shoulder. 'Would it be the end of the world?'
Katryn laughed ruefully. 'She’s not the easiest. The minute she nails that Brian Mitchell down to some kind of commitment she’ll be off, but she’s not leaving him to all the predatory widows here until then.'
'He’s terrified of her! Anyway, she’s years older,' Edge protested and Katryn shrugged.
'Ten at most, and what’s ten years? He sent her the most fabulous roses after her dog got poisoned, but he’s been ducking and dodging ever since. That was funny in itself; I always thought it was you he fancied, he’s always watching you whenever there’s a social thing on of any kind. But there you go.'
'I’ve only just met him,' Edge said absently. 'To talk to, I mean. Obviously I’ve seen him around the place, but if he likes me he’s very coy about it. Still, if he’s keeping Sylvia here he’s got to be told to stop. She has her moments but she’s very disruptive.'
'Ja-well-no-fine. Thing is, Edge, we’ve already got one empty apartment, not too keen to have another. Those murders
did serious damage to the waiting list.'
Edge, who knew the staff’s annual bonuses were based on full occupancy, nodded sympathetically and added boiling water to the rooibos tea that was Katryn’s particular passion. 'I thought we were back to capacity, once Major Horace took over number one, and that new tenant took on his place?'
'Jayenthi Pillay. Ja. Trouble is, she wanted a three-month trial. That probably tells you how bad things are, that Hamish would even agree a trial period! She owns a place in another village but found it quite cliquey so she’s trying us out. I hope she stays – she was a medical missionary, and now she volunteers in Frail Care, and Matron says she’s a real asset. She’s getting quite chummy with Olga and Donald at exercise class, I noticed, so fingers crossed. But Godfrey Crossley gave notice.'
'Auld Crabbit?' Edge stared at her, then remembered and poured out their tea. 'Here you go. I thought he was a fixture forever. Miss P will be a bit devastated. Why’s he going?'
'Well, I shouldn’t really skinner,' Katryn said reluctantly, met Edge’s bright glance, and shrugged. 'I don’t think it’s any secret. He’s met some bright young thing of fifty through a dating website and is moving to hers. They’re getting married in a couple of months.'
'Why, that bad-tempered old bugger! So he managed to convince someone besides Miss P that God was short for Godfrey? That’s another dating story; they seem to be cropping up all over the place lately.'
'There are more people marrying over fifty than in any other age group.' Katryn agreed. 'I always considered the singles market a triumph of hope over experience, myself, but lately I’ve heard a few success stories.'
'I had a success story myself – not on-line, no such thing sixteen years ago – but I met my second husband through a dating agency. Not what I intended at all. I was feeling a bit lost and lonely after James died, and I thought it would be a way to make friends. Alistair lived half the time in Malta, so also wanted to meet people. We hit it off from day one, even though he was several years younger than me. Ironically, we knew people in common and we’d probably have met anyway, but it saved time. Considering we only had eight years together, I’ve always been glad we didn’t waste a day of that.' She glanced up automatically at the photo on her shelf and her eternally young second husband quirked his attractively crooked grin back. In the next frame along, James beamed understandingly. Tears suddenly pricked her eyes.
Katryn stepped tactfully into the abrupt silence. 'Well, then, that’s a definite project for me some day. Maybe when I have a bit more time on my hands. So that’ll be one apartment empty, if Jayenthi decides against us that’s two, and Sylvia would make it three. Not that she’d be allowed a puppy in any other place, but she doesn’t have to live in a retirement village, after all.'
'I wonder if I can help a bit there.' Edge gratefully followed the change of subject. 'She was pretty hot stuff on the show circuit, wasn’t she? That apartment of hers has poodle trophies all over the place. I’ve a friend who recently did Crufts with her dog; she knows a lot of show people. Maybe she’d know if Sylvia could get involved as a judge at local dog shows and move herself up through the ranks in her own right, rather than progressing a puppy. Worth finding out what’s involved, anyway.'
Mortimer hopped onto Katryn’s lap to make rumbling noises and she stroked him absently. 'She’s probably the only one who would complain about this handsome fellow moving in. You sort her out, without starting World War Three, and I’ll turn a blind eye unless someone else complains.'
Chapter 4 - Back in the saddle
About a month earlier some slightly alarming symptoms had led Edge’s doctor to insist on removal of her remaining ovary, and during her convalescence she had fallen into the habit of walks with Clarissa, who was recuperating after a stroke. Clarissa’s formidable bulldog-cross, Maggie, who had nearly died of a fractured skull during the last run of murders at the Lawns, was also on a strict regime of gentle regular exercise, and the three invalids had been shuffling placidly round the grounds for two easy walks a day.
The last time Matron came by Edge’s apartment to check her progress, she had suggested she was now fit to return to the more varied exercise classes offered at the Lawns. Favourite outfits in her wardrobe, which no longer fitted her as well as they had before, were an added incentive.
As a result it had been several weeks since Edge had joined the morning classes in the Sunday room as she hurried down – a little late, as usual – with Vivian. There was a lissome new resident, who had to be Brian’s rescuer Jayenthi, taking a place in the hard-core front row with Donald, Olga and Sylvia. Edge, lurking in the back with Vivian, puffed, fell behind the beat, and struggled to remember the steps.
Even Vivian, who’d stuck with the three-days-a-week pattern all along, abandoned her towards the end, taking to the chairs provided for those needing to take things more gently – although that was possibly also to separate William and Miss P, who both took to the chair-based exercises early on and got a bit giggly halfway through.
Although the first half hour consisted only of t’ai chi, basic yoga and some gentle dance moves, Edge decided Matron was definitely pandering to the enthusiastic front row to the detriment of her regulars, and she told her so mock-severely when the session finally ended.
Matron laughed at her. 'You do realize you don’t have to do everything at the same speed as the regulars, or even as much as you used to do, right? The idea is loosening up and improving flexibility; do as much as you can and a tiny bit more. If you stay for the next bit – and I don’t see why you shouldn’t – just walk it, don’t push yourself. It isn’t a competition.'
The trouble with having a competitive nature, of course, is that everything is a competition. Edge hesitated as Vivian and William left, sharply tempted to hurry after them and the others who had done their bit for the day. In the past she’d made a point of staying for the full workout a few times a month. Today was a Zumba day, and tonight, she reminded herself, she was going out for dinner. And she did love Zumba. She turned resolutely away from the beckoning door and did some half-hearted stretches ready for the next bit.
'Are you really up for this?' Katryn bobbed into some business-like squats and Edge nodded and explained about the dinner. Katryn glanced across at Matron, who nodded, and shrugged. 'Well, as long as you don’t overdo it. By the way, you said you hadn’t met our new resident yet. She’s also worked in Africa – mainly on the other side of the Equator to you and me, she was a medical missionary. Jayenthi, you remember I told you there are some other residents who have lived in Africa? Come and meet Edge.'
Jayenthi Pillay had to be at least fifty-five to qualify as a resident but had enviably good skin, lustrous dark eyes and only the faintest hint of grey strands in her coiled black hair. She offered a soft handshake and a friendly smile.
'I heard you say you have a date tonight. That is most exciting, is it through a dating website?'
'I – well, no. I’m going out to dinner with an old friend. Why, are you on a website? Everyone seems to be doing it these days!'
'Oh, no, I am not dating at all, but on-line dating is now very big in the Asian community. When I was a girl it was the parents who found the husband. Now the young people find their own partners on-line and tell the families, who go and check. My niece is studying in London and has got engaged to such a nice man in Egypt, the wedding is in India next month. They’ve only met once, at the engagement, but they talk every day on Skype.'
'Are you going to the wedding?' Edge was fascinated, but the insistent Zumba beat interrupted them. Jayenthi only nodded, her large eyes shining, and whirled away.
By the end of the session, and despite her best intentions, Edge was scarlet with strands of hair, which had escaped from her chignon, stuck to her face. She sank limply in a chair.
'Look on the bright side.' Donald, hardly flushed as he dabbed at his temples with his towel, was unsympathetic. 'You can have the crème brulee now as well. Or extra wine. But if you
have both you’ll have to work it off here tomorrow.'
'I feel sick. Don’t even talk of crème brulee. I don’t think I can ever eat again.'
'Oh, but I hope you will come to my apartment for something. Olga says you always used to get together after a double session, and it is my turn to host today.' Jayenthi turned to the diminutive Sylvia, who was pretending not to listen as she pulled track suit pants over her leotard, and added shyly, 'I hope you can come too?'
'I don’t eat curried food, never have, never could.' Sylvia carefully peeled off her sweat band and finger-combed her hair, not looking at Jayenthi. 'Thanks, anyway,' she added belatedly. Jayenthi opened her mouth, then caught Donald’s quick headshake and shut it again.
'Vot a stupid thing to say,' Olga said calmly. 'But just as vell, it vould be a bit crowded vith five people. Edge, you vill come? Jayenthi makes vonderful Indian biscuits.'
Sylvia cast the retired ballerina a venomous look and left hastily, angry spots burning in her cheeks. Edge got reluctantly to her feet; she really did feel queasy after the workout but couldn’t refuse after Sylvia’s rudeness. Katryn rolled her eyes and flashed them a quick grin before leaving on Sylvia’s heels to get back to the office upstairs.
The four made their way across to number twenty which, like Edge’s and Donald’s, was a bachelor apartment. Rumour had it that during Major Horace’s tenancy, before he moved into the vacant studio apartment with its full-size kitchen, it had sported animal skins, and gnarled elephant feet as occasional tables. Under Jayenthi’s gentler hand it was simply furnished, with a few very beautiful exotic ornaments and a superb batik as the only picture.
The bachelor apartments consisted of a single well-proportioned room seemingly lined with cupboard doors or display shelves, but the cupboard doors along one wall were in fact doors to, variously, the bathroom, a tiny but well-designed kitchenette, and an alcove large enough for a bed, desk, or dining table. Jayenthi had opted for a pull-down bed in the main room, but as her alcove was closed off Edge, ever curious, couldn’t see what use she made of it.