Crisis in the Cotswolds

by Rebecca Tope

  ‘It probably is.’ He reached out for her. ‘Thanks, love. You don’t have to worry about entertaining them, you know. It’s only Maggs. They’re practically family. Let’s just make sure we enjoy ourselves, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ she answered bravely.

  The children’s excitement blossomed as six o’clock approached. ‘Can we stay up late to talk to them?’ Stephanie pleaded. ‘It is Friday, after all.’

  ‘Just for a bit,’ said Thea. ‘You’ve got all weekend to talk. They’ll just want to settle in and put Meredith to bed.’

  ‘Where will she sleep?’ Timmy gazed wide-eyed from face to face. ‘There’s no bed for her.’

  ‘They’re bringing one with them. It’s a fold-up cot. I’ve actually no idea what it’s like,’ Thea admitted with a laugh. ‘They might want you to help them put it up.’

  The boy frowned as if burdened with an unfair responsibility. ‘Only if you want to,’ Thea assured him.

  ‘Where will they park?’ Stephanie wondered. ‘There’s no room for another car.’

  ‘Yes there is, because I’ve moved ours,’ said Drew. ‘It’s up by the church.’

  ‘I’m hungry,’ Tim complained, at five o’clock. ‘Why aren’t we having tea?’

  ‘We’re waiting to have it all together with Maggs and Den. I’ve done a great big chicken stew, and we’re having rice with it.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Tim. ‘Well, I hope they won’t be late, then.’

  ‘So do I,’ said Drew. ‘But if they are, we can have a few crisps or something to stop us from starving.’

  At five to six, a car pulled up outside and Hepzie yapped. Both children hurtled to open the front door, deliberately jostling each other in the race to be first. Thea and Drew stayed in the living room, instinctively composing themselves into a united couple, lord and lady of the manor, welcoming the travellers. At least, that was how Thea fancied they might appear. It could just be that there would no space for them in the hallway once three more people entered it.

  ‘Oh! Who are you?’ came Stephanie’s loud enquiry, in place of the expected salutations.

  ‘That’s no way to greet a visitor,’ came a familiar Geordie accent. ‘My name is Sonia Gladwin, as a matter of fact.’

  Before the sentence was finished, Thea had rushed out to investigate. ‘Sonia,’ she gasped, unable to find anything to add that wouldn’t be at least as impertinent as Stephanie’s greeting had been.

  The detective superintendent looked at the family gathered round her, including Drew in the doorway. ‘Is this a bad time?’ she said.

  Chapter Four

  ‘Well, it is a bit,’ said Thea. ‘We’ve got people coming at any moment, and apart from anything else, your car’s going to be in their way.’

  ‘Right. Okay. Sorry about that. Funeral people, are they?’ Her brow creased. ‘Funny time for it – but then you exist to break the rules, don’t you?’

  ‘No, no. They’re friends. Colleagues. Not customers, anyway. What do you want?’ The question burst out, the constraints of polite protocol cast to the winds.

  ‘I want your help. A woman has gone missing not far from here and we’re very concerned for her safety. I think she’s someone you know from a while back. The thing is, it’s complicated. Delicate.’ She looked round again at the four faces. ‘I wouldn’t ask if it could be avoided, but it really would be a help if you could just hear the story and see what you think.’

  ‘Sonia – I can’t. I’ve got to feed seven people, and help get a toddler to bed, and—’

  Drew stepped up. ‘Go into the study,’ he ordered. ‘We can manage for a bit. They might not even be here for another half an hour. Go and be a good citizen.’

  ‘Well keep an eye on the dinner, then. Don’t let it dry out. I was going to add more water to it. And the wine needs to be opened. And I didn’t finish laying the table.’

  Gladwin was heading for the study – a room she already knew well. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s get on with it.’

  Thea bit her lip at the tone. She was no stranger to murder enquiries, some of which had been Gladwin’s cases. She had moved all around the Cotswolds on a series of house-sitting jobs, encountering trouble, malice and fear along the way. At one point she had been in a relationship with another senior detective, involving herself quite directly in one or two investigations by his side. When DS Gladwin moved into the area and took up the reins, there was an immediate rapport. Slender, dark and energetic, she had moved with her husband and twin sons from the urban jungles of Tyneside to the comparatively sedate goings-on in Gloucestershire. ‘It’s a whole different class of murder,’ she said. ‘Which doesn’t mean people don’t behave every bit as badly – just in other ways from what I’m used to.’

  ‘Right, then,’ said the detective now, without pausing to sit down. ‘Do you remember a woman called Juliet Wilson, in Stanton?’

  ‘Juliet? Gosh, yes. That seems a long time ago now. Those pet rats. And the horses. What a palaver that was! You’re not telling me it’s Juliet who’s gone missing? Her mother must be frantic.’

  ‘You do remember her. Good. You’ll understand why we’re worried. She moved out of her mother’s house, some time ago. Mrs Wilson broke her hip and all sorts of complications set in, which nobody realised until a neighbour reported screams.’

  ‘Screams?’

  ‘Yes – well, that’s not important now. Juliet moved to a shared house in Blockley, with two other women, and got herself a little job in a boarding kennel. It was all going really well. It’s always hard to admit, but the general view seems to be that she was in a much better state once she got away from her mother.’

  ‘How long has she been missing?’

  ‘Three days. She was last seen on Tuesday afternoon, when she left work.’

  ‘Blockley’s no distance from here. I’m surprised I haven’t bumped into her if she’s been living there.’

  ‘Well, she knew you were here, apparently. She’s got all the cuttings about the burial ground in her room. She talked about you to her housemates. They think she intended to come and visit you, if she could get up the courage.’

  ‘She was never shy before. She kept walking into the house I was looking after, without even knocking.’

  ‘It’s different now. You’re married, for one thing.’

  ‘And she had a thing about men – I remember. It all came out at the end, didn’t it? She’d good reason to be wary.’

  ‘Which is one good reason for doing everything we can to find her. I have to say I’ve got a very bad feeling about it.’

  ‘But she always did go off on her own. We saw her roaming in some woods in the freezing cold, one time. She insisted she was all right and knew what she was doing.’

  Gladwin sighed. ‘We think something must have happened to scare her. She could be hiding, of course. There’s a lot of wide open space out there. But she’d need food, and the nights are still bloody cold.’

  ‘So what can I do?’

  ‘Think back to what you knew of her.’

  ‘She was very sweet. We parted on good terms. But then I went off for Christmas with Drew, and I don’t think I’ve even been to Stanton again. I haven’t seen her at all since then. Does she drive?’

  ‘No. Never got as far as that.’

  ‘I really hope she’s all right.’

  ‘So do we all. So – if you’ve got time, have a scout around, between Blockley and here. You’ve always been good at that.’

  ‘At finding dead bodies, you mean?’ Thea’s voice was harsh. ‘Thanks very much.’

  ‘I just wanted you to know. Juliet obviously had some special feeling for you. She might have been coming here when something happened to her. She goes everywhere on foot, just as she always did. She knows the footpaths and tracks. I just wanted you to know,’ she repeated.

  ‘Okay. Yes. I’m glad you told me. I’ll see if I can think of anything useful – but I don’t imagine I’ll come up with anything.’
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br />   Squeals, voices and a yapping spaniel announced that the Coopers had finally arrived. ‘Bathroom – quick!’ came a loud female voice. ‘This nappy’s about to explode.’

  ‘You’d better go and see to your visitors,’ said Gladwin. ‘Sorry about the terrible timing. I’ll phone you if there’s any news.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Thea with minimal enthusiasm. ‘I hope Juliet shows up safe, anyway.’

  There followed a brief skirmish outside involving cars, Den and Gladwin managing it between them, having refused Drew’s offer to direct the manoeuvres. Nobody had made any introductions and Den came back looking puzzled. ‘Who was that?’ he asked.

  Thea cocked her head teasingly. ‘Couldn’t you tell? Didn’t you get any vibes?’

  ‘Don’t tell me she’s a cop.’ He looked to Drew for rescue. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘There wasn’t time. She’s a detective superintendent with the Gloucestershire force. She and Thea are old mates. Don’t worry – she’s got no idea who you are, either. As if it mattered.’ Drew was sounding tetchy, with the collapse into near-chaos caused by Gladwin’s presence, Meredith’s overflowing nappy and Hepzibah’s rampant enthusiasm for the newcomers.

  ‘Okay. So – what’s cooking? I can smell something fabulous. Should I lay the table or something? Pour drinks? Entertain the young people? I’m at your disposal. Maggs and Merry won’t be long. I can’t tell you what torment the last ten miles have been. I’m not sure the car will be useable for a while.’ Somehow, everybody had drifted into the kitchen, in an instinctive expectation of food, and were standing around awkwardly.

  Drew and Thea gave their guest identical fond looks. Den Cooper was a man in a million, they both agreed. Six feet four inches tall, in his mid-thirties, calm, insightful and seemingly contented – he showed every sign of having found his place in life. Stephanie clung to his arm, gazing up at him in wonder.

  ‘You’re ever so tall, aren’t you,’ she said. ‘Is it weird?’

  ‘Sometimes. I bang my head quite a lot, and my feet stick out of the end of most beds.’

  ‘I’ll put the rice on,’ said Thea. ‘And that means dinner is served in precisely sixteen minutes from now. If anybody wants gin or something, they’ll have to get it for themselves, or ask Drew.’

  Maggs and her daughter made a less dramatic entrance the second time. ‘Me pooed nappy,’ the child announced, superfluously. She looked round proudly, taking her time in examining each face. In turn, the Slocombes all met her gaze. A well-built little body, with her father’s long face, topped with dark-brown hair, she could pass as a native of anywhere between India and Brazil, taking in North Africa, Mexico and much of Europe. Her unknown maternal grandfather was assumed to be African, giving Maggs black kinky hair and skin the colour of stained oak. Den’s West Country genes had greatly modified the colouring and outline of his wife’s, producing a robust offspring of immense character, if not actual beauty.

  ‘That’s nothing to be proud of,’ Tim told her severely.

  Meredith paused, understanding the tone but not the words. ‘Me want drink,’ she responded in defiance.

  ‘Twelve minutes,’ said Thea. ‘It’s too soon to sit up. Could you all go into the other room for a bit. It’s getting crowded, and I don’t want to drop boiling water on anybody.’

  Meredith violently objected to this move, which seemed to threaten acute disappointment. Maggs extracted a spouted cup from a bag, and Drew nudged Stephanie to lead the way across the hall. ‘I’ll do some gin and tonic, shall I?’ he asked of nobody in particular. ‘Maggs? Are you drinking?’

  She turned to stare at him. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘No reason. You never used to like gin.’

  ‘You’re right. I don’t. What else have you got?’

  With considerable inefficiency, Drew managed to provide everyone with a drink, only to have them all summoned back to the table before they could swallow much of it. He and Thea had silently shared the certain knowledge that Maggs was not pregnant, as suspected.

  The meal came to order, the children enjoying the occasion and the adults exchanging news. Nothing of any great import was disclosed, leaving Thea apprehensive as to what it was Maggs wanted to impart that clearly required a period of privacy away from all the others. The sense of something ominous hanging over them became stronger as the meal proceeded. The chicken stew was judged a success, with a stack of licked-clean plates to prove it. Ice cream followed, which she admitted was a cop-out. ‘But I’m doing a proper pudding tomorrow,’ she promised.

  It was almost nine before the four adults finally slumped into the chairs and sofa in the living room. ‘It’s great to be here,’ said Den. ‘It must be a major disruption to your routine.’

  ‘We thrive on disruption,’ said Drew. ‘We wouldn’t know ourselves without it.’

  Maggs sat straighter, leaning forward slightly. ‘That sounds like my cue, then,’ she said. ‘I won’t leave you in suspense any longer – I can see you’re desperate to know what we’ve come to tell you. And no – I’m not pregnant, Drew. I could have told you that over the phone.’

  Thea saw Den trying to catch Drew’s eye. When he finally did, it was to signal something that looked like apology. Something sheepish and embarrassed, too.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ said Drew.

  ‘It isn’t good. I can’t pretend it is. In a nutshell, I want to give up Peaceful Repose. I don’t want to be an undertaker any more.’

  Chapter Five

  Drew’s mouth appeared to be malfunctioning. It opened and closed, and opened again, while the colour drained from his cheeks. Thea felt a prickling of tears, watching his shock and distress. ‘But you can’t,’ she said, as if stating a plain fact. ‘I thought it was your life’s work. Vocation – isn’t that what you always said?’

  Maggs was watching Drew, waiting for him to regain composure. She merely shook her head in response to Thea’s question. ‘It doesn’t have to be a disaster,’ she said. ‘You can find someone else to run it for you. Pandora would be more than happy to stay on, and even do a bit more than she does already. You know how fond she is of you.’

  ‘But why?’ he blurted. ‘What happened? It’s only a couple of weeks since I was there. You never gave me a hint of this then.’

  ‘I know. I hadn’t decided then. But something you said – it just all fell apart.’ She grimaced at the pain she was causing. ‘Or maybe it came together. I twisted my ankle the next day and couldn’t walk. I just sat on the sofa all day, thinking.’

  ‘Never a good idea,’ said Den, reminding them all that he could occasionally be quite remarkably crass, for all his fine qualities. Everybody ignored him.

  ‘So what on earth did I say to have such an effect?’ Drew wanted to know.

  ‘It sounds ridiculous now. But we were walking round the graves, and you admired my paths as usual. Then you said, “Room for another five hundred at least. That should see us through the next two or three years, unless there’s a sudden boom in business.” And I thought, “Well, that’s not very long, is it? What’s going to happen after that?” I’m only twenty-eight, Drew. And we’re so short of cash all the time. I sat on that sofa, working out the sums – with Den juggling work and Merry, and helping with the funerals it all seemed rather pointless.’

  ‘But …’ Drew protested helplessly.

  ‘Five hundred burials over three years at present charges comes to less than fifteen thousand pounds a year actual income once we’ve paid Pandora. Den earns about sixteen a year, after tax and everything. That’s barely a living wage. We can’t afford to send Merry to nursery until she’s three and we get some benefit money towards it. And I do want another one. Maybe two more. We need a bigger house. I want a dog and holidays and a proper garden. And a real future.’

  ‘But …’ said Drew again. ‘We can find ways of raising your share. The North Staverton house – you could live there instead of where you are. I’ve said so before. You can have it rent fre
e. The garden’s huge.’

  ‘No thanks,’ said Den stiffly. ‘I know it’s pathetic, but we can’t take charity on that scale.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be charity, you fool. It would be payment in kind. A tied cottage that goes with the job. It’s perfectly normal procedure.’

  ‘That’s not his real reason,’ said Maggs, with a complicated glance at her husband. ‘He doesn’t want to live beside a cemetery. And he doesn’t want his daughter to, either. It’s a thing with him.’

  ‘And that’s not your real reason, either, so don’t put it onto me,’ said her husband with mild reproachfulness. ‘We’re dodging around, talking about practicalities, when it’s all much more visceral than that.’

  ‘I know,’ said Maggs. ‘The thing is, basically, I’m sick of death and dead people. It’s all got out of balance since we had Merry. We’ve done our best to live like normal people – which is why we’ve stayed in that little house – but there’s always one ear out for the phone, and a worry that people might think we’re frivolous if we start behaving like everybody else. I’ve done it for ten years now, if you count going in to Plant’s at weekends when I was still at school. It’s taken all that time to get it out of my system. But now I have, and I don’t want to do it any more.’

  ‘Well, that’s plain enough,’ said Thea, losing patience with the whole conversation. ‘Nobody can force you to stay, after all. But you must see how impossible you’ve made it for Drew.’

  Maggs lifted her chin and fixed Thea with a very direct look. ‘It’s not at all impossible. He can sell the whole thing as a going concern, and concentrate exclusively on this place. It’s not as if Peaceful Repose was bringing in any money for you. I was keeping everything it earned. As a business plan, it was never very sensible.’