Fenella was nowhere to be seen. They were alone as they skirted the glass houses and shed and came to the small stand of fir trees in the gloomy, neglected part of the garden.
‘You’ll find everything in here,’ said Edie, somewhat breathlessly.
The garden house, paint peeling and with a hole in the floor, lay in semi-darkness. Miss Lavender peered inside. Edie was hauling at a large hamper, struggling with the leather straps. She flung it open. A rather dank, but not unpleasant smell hit their nostrils - Attar of Roses. She pulled out a faded pink ballet tutu.
‘Here we are. All mother’s costumes. We used these for dressing up.’
‘Well, goodness me. Shouldn’t they be inside, away from the damp.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘I can’t see that keeping them here will do them any good. These ought to be properly preserved, don’t you think?’
‘You are right. I suppose we were all so very shocked at Mummy’s death - well it’s taken time to get over it. This sort of thing was too painful at the time. Coming in here brings back all sorts of memories.’
It astonished Miss Lavender that the ever resourceful and well organised Fenella, had left the costumes in such a neglected state. There were two hampers full of wonderful costumes. Chinese robes of colourful embroidered silk, feathered head dresses, tunics, armour. Edie pulled out a turquoise chiffon ball gown, holding it up to the light at the door.
‘We had such wonderful times with Mummy,’ she said sadly.
‘And what are these?’ asked Miss Lavender.
‘Props. We used these every Christmas for the pantomimes.’
A couple of large cutouts of hardboard had been painted as vaudeville figures. Billy Bunter and Widow Twankey. Aladdin’s lamp and a chest of fake treasure lay at the back of the shed.
‘I’ll get Ben to help me clear this stuff up. He’ll be here in a bit. The gardeners come on a Monday.’
‘Ah, yes. I was wanting a word with them,’ said Miss Lavender.
‘Still clearing things up, are you?’
‘Nothings resolved as yet, no.’
‘If you ask me Pops must have a secret enemy.’
‘Really? Why do you say that?’
‘Stands to reason. They made a mistake, didn’t they. Killed the wrong one. Everyone in the family knows Pops never drinks tea. Always sticks to coffee.’
II
Ben was standing on a low set of steps spraying the roses when Miss Lavender caught up with him. He greeted her with a cheerful grin.
‘Back again, then. Can’t keep away from my vegetables!’
‘Hello, Ben,’ Miss Lavender replied, somewhat primly. ‘That’s right. The food at The Court is delicious.’
‘Enjoying your stay.’
‘No. I can’t say I am doing that exactly. This is a bad business you know.’
‘’Tis indeed.’ He peered closely at the Gertrude Jekyll rosebush nearest him. ‘These are the best roses in my opinion. Not too prone to greenfly, neither.’
‘I quite agree. And you know it is always the first rose to bloom in my garden. You should come for tea and a look round some day soon, Ben.’
‘I’d very much like that.’
‘Tell me, Ben. Our little chat the other day. Last week in fact - how time flies. You mentioned something about Miss Edie Harrington.’
‘Caught up with her, have you. Well, it doesn’t surprise me one little bit. That Simon Harrington is a toffee nosed swell. But that Miss Edie’s another kettle of fish, I can tell you, and no mistake.’
‘In what way?’
‘Perfect little cat.’
‘That’s quite a thing to say about your employer’s daughter, you know.’
‘If you ask me,’ he said as he continued to spray the roses, ‘Sir Tempest and Fenella Harrington are fed up to the back teeth of her. Can’t wait to get her off their hands. There are terrible rows, you know. All that polite afternoon tea and cocktail party stuff. Well don’t be fooled. If you ask me they all hate one another. I mean, as I said to my Auntie Daisy, what on earth are families for, if not to get on and help each other.’
‘Dear, dear. That does sound very sad, Ben.’
‘She’s a stirrer and no mistake. The quicker they get her married off the better.’
‘Really. She’s young enough yet, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Not the way she’s carrying on around Richard,’ he said abruptly. ‘Any road, I’ve said my piece, and it’s more than I should’ve. But if you want the truth you’ll have to dig deep, is all I’m saying. I’m as loyal as the next person. But I knows you are wanting to get to the bottom of a murder.’
‘I certainly am, Ben. But you are hardly going to say you think one of the family were to blame?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t say he wasn’t followed. Down from London. All I am saying is, that it’s a mighty queer thing when you have two murders. Both unexplained. Cause and effect. Me and my Mum and my Auntie Daisy ‘ave been talking it over. We think you should be looking closer to home. That’s all.’
‘Well, Ben you could be right. But many families have arguments.’
Ben shook his head. ‘Not the sort they ‘ave here. Blazing rows, I’d call them, and regular too.’
Miss Lavender looked pensive. She could believe it. Ben was not the type to be disloyal to his employer or the family he worked for. Loyalty was inbuilt in these village types. There was no reason to believe that Ben was lying, either. He would value his job at The Court. In the village hierarchy employment with Sir Tempest Harrington would rank high.
‘And this is just Miss Edie and her father, I take it?’
‘Oh, no. Miss Fenella. She can be very forthright, if you get my meaning. Simon tends to sulk rather than shout, but he can get worked up, just like the rest of ‘em given a chance. They want to leave home, evidently, but not until it’s sorted out what happened to their mother.’
‘Ah, I see. And what does Miss Fenella have to say about that, then?’
‘Says it’s all balderdash. That their mother acted shamefully. What with the drink and all.’
‘So, not much sympathy for poor Prudence then. And Sir Harrington, what does he say?’
‘Doesn’t give an opinion, just loses his temper after a bit, and tells them to sort themselves out. That sort of thing. Then, of course Caroline, the Army wife pitches in with her bit.’
‘Oh, so she’s there also?’
‘Usually.’
‘And whose side is she on, in all this, would you say?’
‘Well, she’s a law unto herself, that one, isn’t she. Always looking out for number one, I think. Bit put out when Sir Tempest remarried. Though that’s natural, she was pretty young at the time.’
‘Before you were born.’
‘But my Aunt Daisy is always going on about it. You see, this village hadn’t had any deaths in mysterious circumstances before Prunella Harrington. She filled me in on all the gory details.’
Miss Lavender thought it more likely that young Ben had picked up the gossip as a child.
‘And what is your aunt Daisy’s verdict on this death, then?’
Ben looked darkly at Miss Lavender.
‘ ‘ave I not been hinting at it all along?’
She didn’t respond. It seemed inconceivable that Edie Harrington was capable of murdering her own father. But this was obviously the person the young lad was meaning. She excused herself and went to find Albert Seddon. She had a thing or two to discover from him.
III
She came across Sir Tempest in the hall. He had just been seeing Inspector MacIntosh to his car. Miss Lavender was sorry not to have been in on their conference.
‘Ah, Rosamunde, there you are. How was the cottage? All well, I hope.’ He looked harassed.
‘Was that the inspector?’
‘Yes. Nice enough, but rushed off his feet, evidently. Had to be on his way.’
‘Any news?’
‘Well, of course not,’ he
said with a sigh. ‘One wonders why on earth we pay them. Good at shuffling round paperwork. That’s about all. Certainly not followed any leads.’
‘Were there leads?’ asked Miss Lavender in surprise.
He gave a sudden rueful laugh. ‘You’re right. I suppose I’ve been reading to many detective novels. No, what leads could there be?’
‘What about finger prints on the garden door knob, or the tea cup?’
‘Nothing. Oh, they’ve been up to the shop in London and interviewed the employees. But they don’t think anyone has a motive.’
‘And the note?’
Again, Sir Tempest looked harassed. ‘Note, Rosamunde?’
‘Well, didn’t we suspect from the note that it was you who were the intended victim?’
He laughed again, dismissively.
‘Look, I’ve been thinking that theory over, while you’ve been away. I don’t think we can take it seriously. I really have no enemies, you know.’
Miss Lavender looked at her friend quietly. So, it was too uncomfortable a thought for him - that one of his family may have intended to kill him. She had been too forthright, she realised. Hardly sensitive. He had been in on all the interviews of his family. Thoughtless, really. No wonder he wanted, now, to back off. She would have to tread carefully from now on.
‘So, I don’t suppose you felt it necessary to tell Inspector MacIntosh about the note, then.’
‘No.’
‘And you don’t think that you are under any threat?’
‘Frankly, I think the idea is preposterous.’ His tone softened. ‘Look, Rosamunde, no disrespect. And I can’t tell you how very grateful I am that you are lending your support. But, as I said. I have no enemies. As a family we really do get along well. Oh, there’s the odd rumpus. But that happens in all families, doesn’t it.’
She smiled and let the matter go.
‘Of course, Tempest. And if you still want me to stay - ?’
‘Why naturally. Stay as long as you wish. And perhaps we will get to the bottom of who killed poor Shapley.’
IV
Seddon was in the boot room, polishing shoes.
‘Back from your travels then, Miss Lavender?’
‘Oh, yes, yes.’
‘How’s that cat of yours? Managing without you?’
‘Opus rules Bramble Cottage, as we both know. He has my second best patchwork quilt to sleep on.’
‘Very fine.’
‘Mind if I sit and chat?’
‘Be my guest.’
He laid down the polishing cloth and riding boot, and pulled a Windsor chair from the corner for her to sit on. She reached for the sock in her knitting bag. She was now down to the toe. This should take very little time to finish. It was in stocking stitch, with steady decreases. Albert Seddon sat on a low stool. Two rows of boots and shoes before him. One polished and in need of a buff with a cloth. The other with polish applied, but still in need of a stiff brush and buff. They sat working alongside one another in companionable silence for a few moments.
Miss Lavender recalled the first time she and Seddon had met. It was the months after Mildred had married and returned from the honeymoon in Italy. Seddon had been hired that week. He must have been in his early thirties.
‘Tell me, Albert, you have been with the Harringtons for years. You must be very happy with them.’
‘Indeed yes, Miss Lavender. I came just as Sir Tempest was married. That is his first marriage, as you know. Nineteen fourteen it was. Just before the Great War.’
‘And what brought you to this quiet part of England?’
‘As a matter of fact, my aim was to join the RFC up at Larkhill.’
‘RFC?’
‘Pilot. I wanted to fly. They were recruiting young men and training them up as pilots. Royal Flying Corps.’
‘So what happened?’
‘Poor eyesight. Failed all the tests. And a touch of TB. That put the lid on it. So I returned to service. I’d been working for an Army Brigadier, but it was better that I came here. Where it’s quiet. But still in close proximity if I want to watch the planes. So I never did get called up, in either war. Though I did do a stint as an ambulance driver over at Tidworth. We all did something. As you know, Miss Lavender.’
She nodded. Her contribution had been top secret and remained so. The war wasn’t so very far behind them.
‘And you have known the Harrington family all these years now.’
‘That is so. There’s been much more change than I would have anticipated, of course. One doesn’t ever think there’ll be deaths. Lady Mildred was the best. Could run a home like a palace. And stand no nonsense. I recall the time she had the Mayor of Salisbury and his wife to tea. Brought their brood of terriers with them. A dozen in all. Nipped your ankle soon as look at you. And they were going for old Brutus, Sir Tempest’s labrador, as was. And she just took the whole thing in her stride. Dealt with the whole thing like they were kids in a nursery. Had them all eating dog biscuits, calm as you please. She was like that. Nothing ruffled her. You knew her at school, I think.’ He picked up a brush and a leather shoe and began brushing.
‘That’s right. We were both boarding at Malvern. I knew Mildred from when we were eight years old. I still miss her, of course.’
‘Yes. It was far too soon.’
‘And the Harringtons are like family to you, then?’
‘Well, other folks have come along the way. Like yourself for instance. And I have kept up with the old regiment. It became the RAF, you know. I sometimes stop at the Mess. I’ve not been lacking for company on my days off.’
‘There’s few round these parts who aren’t linked with the Forces in some way, I agree.’
Miss Lavender completed the last few remaining stitches, and finished off the sock.
‘There now,’ she said, holding it up.
‘Very fine. I take it you are going to make a matching one.’
‘That’s the tricky part - to get them to match. There is a technique to knit them simultaneously, but I haven’t discovered it yet.’
‘I hope you’ll knit me a pair for Christmas, Miss Lavender. Plain grey will do me. None of your frilly stuff.’
She laughed.
‘Well, I best be getting on and leaving you to your work, then, Albert.’ She put the ball of wool and double ended pins away and rolled up her knitting bag. ‘I expect you found a great change in the family after the little children came along - Simon and Edie. It must have been a great contrast after Mildred and Caroline. Quite a different set up, I expect.’
Albert Seddon, put down the brush and began buffing the shoe with the soft cloth. ‘It would be accurate to say Prudence was highly strung, as I said before. Always a drama.’
‘So you would look out for the babies, I expect.’
‘Oddly put, but they were always under your feet. Just part of the family.’
‘It will have been good to see them grow up. They are both very good looking.’
‘Well, I am sure that helps.’
‘It will be quite a change when they have left. You might find life rather too quiet.’
‘I enjoy the work. It’s good to have a purpose in life as you get older. As to them leaving. I think it will be quite a while before Miss Edie leaves home.’
‘Why do you say that? I thought she was booked to attend Constance Spry. You know, the flower arranging course. Doesn’t that start very soon?’
‘I expect so.’
‘I was rather sorry to hear she had a wish to go on the stage. Never thought it a good idea to thwart a young person’s dreams.’
‘She’s a good actress too. You should have seen her in their pantos at Christmas. Took to the stage early. It was a pity, yes. A great pity. But you know these old families. They have their traditions. Edie will be married in a few years or so, I expect.’
‘Will you miss her, when she does?’
‘I hope I will always have an invite.’
‘I am sure you sha
ll. You are fond of her, Albert.’
‘That I am,’ he said with a smile.
V
She put her knitting away up in her room. The clocks were striking midday and she didn’t want to miss speaking to Travers. If Seddon would not be drawn she might have better luck with the gardener. It was strange, she mused. Her absence had effected a change on the household. It was almost as if they had decided between them to clam up. The note on Shapley’s saucer, which was still in her possession, ought to have been shown to the police. It was kept safe in her knitting bag.
Miss Lavender went to the window. It looked out on the garden. She could just make out Ben’s figure. He was in the strawberry patch, presumably checking on the size of the fruit. There were many fruit bushes in the kitchen garden and she could imagine Mrs Hoskins busy jam making in a few weeks’ time.
There was a figure in the swing seat, swinging gently back and forth. Mostly hidden by the chintz canopy, she could discern the bare legs and sandals which must belong to Edie. She would probably be reading a magazine. The girl was pretty idle, and Miss Lavender knew the Devil made work for idle hands. She wondered whether Ben was right about the girl being a flirt. Or perhaps Seddon was correct in defending her at all costs. The swinging ceased. Edie rose and came fully into view. She was wearing a navy and white striped, full skirted dress with a little matching bolero. Her hair was brushed up into a pony tail. Miss Lavender followed her progress across the lawn and through the rockery. She was heading for the glass house. Fenella’s domain. She vanished inside. Presently Miss Lavender spied three figures through the glass. It was true. One did indeed have a clear view of the glass house. Her bedroom was just above the conservatory, so she could imagine everyone was correct in their assertion that they had seen Fenella that day, working with her plants.
Now the three figures emerged from the glass house. First Travers, his shoulders hunched. Miss Lavender could not see his face. It was averted. Then Edie wringing her hands, her voice carrying across the lawn. She seemed very annoyed about something. Lastly Fenella. It was rather difficult to make out. But Fenella seemed pale faced. She apparently was silent. Then she went over to Travers and held him by the arm, as if to reason with him. Edie stood for a moment, her hands on her hips. And then to Miss Lavender’s shock, went forward and slapped her aunt cross the face. More raised voices. Simon emerged from the conservatory and strode across the lawn. Travers had disappeared round the side of the house. Fenella stood for a moment arguing with Simon who had put his arm, protectively round Edie’s shoulder. Sir Tempest was nowhere to be seen. Hopefully he hadn’t witnessed the incident. Obviously feelings were running very high. Miss Lavender was not at all surprised to see Ben looking on from the strawberry patch, over the hedge, but wisely keeping his distance.
Snuffed It in the Library Page 9