by Rebecca Tope
‘Do you think she was protesting too much? Could she still be the one?’
‘I don’t know.’ Thea shook her head. ‘But I think we can delete Ursula Ferguson. That story about Eddie’s troublesome son sounded convincing to me. I think she’s much too bound up with her job to have time or energy for murder. She’s just a typical teacher.’
I winced. ‘That sounds a bit dismissive. Don’t you like teachers?’
She grinned. ‘I’m in awe of them,’ she corrected. ‘They’re like another species to you and me. I only know two or three, but they always seem completely immersed in school – it’s like trying to do three demanding jobs at once. They never even have time for their own kids or friends and anything really. They might murder some ghastly offensive kid in a fit of insane rage, but not a carefully planned ritual like Gaynor and Verona.’
‘Hmm,’ I said. ‘But Ursula does find time for the pagan activities. She’s really very committed.’
‘Is she?’
I thought about it. Compared to Daphne or Pamela or even Verona, Ursula actually devoted very little time to the group. She came to meetings, giving us her attention for a few hours and then disappearing until the next time. ‘Maybe less than the others,’ I admitted.
‘And Oliver Grover – what do we think about him?’
‘I think I might just have believed he’d killed Gaynor – though that was hard enough – but I can’t see the slightest reason why he’d go for Verona. If he thought she’d found him out over Gaynor, would he do an identical ritualistic killing? What would that be about?’ I shook my head forcefully. ‘No, I’m deleting him as well.’
‘What about Leslie?’
I sighed. ‘Leslie’s too limp,’ I judged. ‘It defies belief that he could ever kill anything. He almost fainted at the bullock slaughtering.’
‘The what?’
I explained. Thea gulped a few times, and changed the subject.
‘And Kenneth?’ she said.
‘He was gathering free food in the coppice. He said he couldn’t spend any money until next month. Sounds as if he’s had his credit cards confiscated.’
‘People in debt do desperate things,’ she observed.
‘But I can’t see how it could lead him to perform two murders.’
‘Not unless somebody paid him.’
We thought about that for a moment, and then both shook our heads.
Then the phone rang.
It was Pamela, screaming at me. In actual fact, she didn’t scream, she kept her voice level. But she was definitely very upset. She said terrible things about poor Arabella and assured me that there would be a charge made against me for irresponsible pig ownership.
I managed to ask after Kenneth’s leg. ‘It’s responding slowly to treatment,’ she said tightly.
‘I really am dreadfully sorry,’ I said, ignoring a little voice in my head insisting that you should never say that if you were in danger of being sued for something. It sounded like an admission of guilt. The truth was, I genuinely did feel considerable sorrow about what had happened to Kenneth.
‘I should hope you are,’ she said. I could hear the sounds of traffic down the phone and asked her where she was.
‘The hospital, of course. You have to go outside to make phonecalls. I had to come on a bus, would you believe?’
I remembered the car, which Kenneth had entrusted to my care. ‘Oh – the car,’ I said. ‘I’d better go and fetch it.’
‘Could you bring it here and take me home?’ she asked.
My mind always goes into paralysis when one of those IQ-test situations arises. ‘If George and Jim are at Point A with two cars, and Cyril needs to get from Point B without passing his ex-wife’s house at C, then how many car journeys are required, given that George is still a learner driver?’ sort of thing. They seem to occur in real life quite regularly. I looked at Thea, realising that however it was to be managed, she would be required to help.
‘Give me an hour or so,’ I said to Pamela.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘It’s Ward B12. You can ask at reception.’
Thea’s mind was obviously in better shape than mine. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘It’s simple. We’ll both go to the layby. One of us will drive Kenneth’s car, and we’ll go to the hospital together, in both cars.’ She paused. ‘No, wait. I’ll go to the hospital, and you can go to their house and wait there, to collect me when I turn up with Pamela. She can give me directions, then.’
‘It’ll take ages,’ I grumbled.
‘What else is there to do?’ she asked. ‘And I suppose she thinks you owe her.’
She went across the road for a coat, and to give the dogs an early supper. ‘And I’d better see if anybody wants to widdle,’ she added.
It all happened in the same sort of dreadful blurry unbelievable fashion as the pig and Kenneth thing had. I was rushing, and rather cross, I suppose. And I didn’t think I needed to look behind as I turned the car round. I did it every day; it was routine. If I sometimes mounted the verge outside Greenhaven, then so what?
There was a thud and a shattering succession of agonised howls somewhere at the back of the car. With an unbearable sense of guilt and dread, I switched off the engine and got out, but not before I had remained sitting there for a good thirty seconds. Thea was there before me. The big black and tan dog was writhing in her arms, still howling.
‘It’s Baxter,’ she said tightly. ‘I think you’ve broken his hip.’
I had to defend myself. ‘I couldn’t see the bloody thing – he must have been right behind me. He wasn’t there when I got in the car.’
‘He was probably coming to say hello,’ Thea said, in a voice overflowing with grief. ‘He wouldn’t have expected you to be reversing.’
‘We’d better take him to the vet,’ I said. ‘The one I use is in Cirencester – we’d better go there. Get him onto the back seat.’
I had to help her. The dog was heavy and wouldn’t keep still. The noise it made filled my head with steam, until I could barely see, and certainly couldn’t think. Thea got into the back with the animal. Then she had a thought. ‘My phone,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to get my phone.’
The car was still sitting straddled across the street, blocking any traffic that might want to pass. The other dogs were somewhere about, but I couldn’t see them. I didn’t dare move, in case I did more damage.
Thea was quickly back. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘He’ll be okay. If he can make that much noise…’
I couldn’t believe she was being kind to me after what I’d done. I almost wished Phil was there, to give me a bollocking. I could do with being yelled at just then.
At least I knew where the vet was. But I didn’t have their phone number. Thea was ahead of me. ‘We ought to call the vet and warn them we’re coming. There might not be anybody there on a Sunday afternoon.’
‘Try Directory Enquiries,’ I said.
Thea fumbled with the phone, the dog still moaning maddeningly. ‘They’ve changed it all, haven’t they?’ she remembered. ‘I don’t know what you have to do now.’
‘Nor me,’ I said. There had been a lot of adverts and leaflets when the change happened, all of which I’d ignored. ‘We’ll just have to turn up and hope for the best.’
Suddenly I could smell something very nasty.
‘Has he crapped himself?’ I asked.
‘A bit. He’s distraught about it, poor boy. And it’s mostly on my jumper.’
Needless to say, it was the jumper I’d given her. ‘Bloody hell,’ I said.
It was a nightmare journey. The dog whimpered and made a stink; Thea soothed him and I kept my foot down, window open and mind empty.
There was a special bell at the vet’s for out of hours emergencies. When we rang it, a woman appeared and ushered us in with admirable composure. ‘I live in the upstairs flat,’ she said. ‘I get all the out of hours work.’
‘Bad luck,’ I sympathised. ‘I hope they pay you properly for
it.’
She glanced at Thea, and didn’t say anything. Obviously my comment was too insensitive to dignify with a reply. I was panting from carrying the heavy dog from the car. ‘Can we get on with it?’ Thea pleaded.
They disappeared into a consulting room, leaving me to flip through a stack of old magazines and read notices about worms and fleas.
They were ages. I heard the dog howl once or twice and the low murmur of voices, but nothing more than that. Fed up with the magazines, I decided to go and stand outside for a bit, just for a change of scene. Thea would come and find me when she wanted to be driven home. Only then did I remember Pamela, waiting at the hospital for us.
Cirencester was quiet, the chilly wind keeping most people indoors. The streets are all well-proportioned and tasteful, not so much selfconscious as self-possessed. Everything is solid and assured and well maintained. The power of money is mainly used to good effect, keeping the shops fully stocked and the park looking tidy. I almost never bought anything there, even on market day, but I was not averse to a bit of browsing from time to time. Now, waiting for Thea and Phil’s suicidal dog, I wandered into the main street for a few minutes.
The first person I saw was Leslie Giddins. He was alone, walking towards me with a mobile phone clamped to his ear. I observed the process whereby he saw me with his eyes, but did not register who I was, his mind on the phone conversation. He came close enough for me to hear what he was saying, before he was aware of me.
‘I know,’ he was saying. ‘Your grandmother comes first, I understand that.’ Then it happened. ‘Good God, Ariadne’s here. Right in front of me.’ He moved the phone away from his head and smiled at me. ‘We were just talking about you,’ he grinned.
‘Oh?’
‘This is Oliver. He’s had to go and see to his gran. She fell over, or something. I’m afraid he—’
I snatched the phone from him. ‘Oliver? What’s the matter? Is she all right?’
‘Ariadne? Where are you? I mean – where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to phone you all day. Gran’s had a fall.’
‘Has she broken anything? Where is she now?’ I was startled by how distraught I felt at the idea of Sally being hurt.
His voice was low, as if Sally might be listening. ‘I don’t think it’s terribly serious, to be honest. She missed her chair and sat down heavily on the floor. She says her hip is badly bruised, but she won’t let me look. That’s why I wanted you to come.’
‘Did she call the emergency people?’ Sally had a special gadget, which she was supposed to hang round her neck and use to summon help if she fell or felt poorly.
‘No. She called me. She won’t have the doctor – says he’ll send her to hospital and she’ll give up and die if that happens. You know how she is.’
I looked at Leslie, who was standing patiently waiting for his phone back. No prizes for guessing where Oliver had been when his grandmother tried to contact him.
‘Listen, Oliver, I’m up to my eyes in stuff just now. Everything’s happening at once. I can’t really be of much use to Sally, anyway. She’ll have to swallow her pride and let the doctor see her.’ I endured the stab I felt at my own treachery. The awful thing was that Sally had every reason to resist medical attentions. She and I had both seen what happened to Helen at the very end.
‘She won’t do that,’ he said. ‘I can stay here tonight, and make sure she doesn’t get any worse. And all day tomorrow, if I have to. But after that—’
‘We’ll worry about that when the time comes,’ I said. ‘Maybe it is only a bruise. Can she stand on it? Does her leg look straight?’
‘Straight? When were Gran’s legs ever straight?’
I laughed. Sally had been bandy-legged ever since I’d known her.
‘Her foot isn’t crooked, is it? If the hip’s broken, the ligament that keeps your ankle straight doesn’t work any more, and your foot looks weird.’
He paused. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he said. Then, ‘No, her foot looks perfectly normal.’
‘Good. Look, I’ll have to go. I’m sorry, but she’s got you. She’ll be okay.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ he said.
Before he could disconnect the phone, I had a thought. ‘Wait – Oliver!’ I shouted.
‘What?’ His voice was low and impatient.
‘This probably isn’t the right moment to ask, but it’s been nagging at me most of the week. You know Gaynor.’
‘Of course,’ he snapped, and I winced at my own crassness.
‘Sorry. Well what exactly did she do that lost you some business? Sally told me about it. Said you were furious with her. Then Daphne told me she’d heard about it, and it involved Gervase Johnson somehow.’ I was speaking quickly, trying to keep it light so it didn’t sound like an accusation.
‘Ariadne, this really is not the time to talk about it. But as it happens, I can explain in about twenty seconds. You seem to have blown it up out of all proportion. It was nothing much. It wasn’t really anything to do with Gervase, either. Gaynor just spoke out of turn. She didn’t mean to. Wrong person at the wrong moment, that’s all.’
‘Was it to do with the Masons?’
He made a clicking noise. ‘Well, yes, in a way. She let drop that I was on the square. He was so outraged he took his custom elsewhere. I was angry with her for about two days at most. Gran just happened to get an earful because she was the next person I saw after it happened.’
‘Did you know Gaynor had joined the Masons?’
‘Of course I did.’ Of course he did. It explained nearly everthing.
‘Okay. Thanks for telling me,’ I said. ‘Now go and see to Sally. Tell her I’ll be round tomorrow.’
I handed the phone back to a forlorn-looking Leslie. ‘Poor old Sal,’ I said.
He sighed. ‘We were going to the theatre this evening.’
‘Why are you here then?’ I wondered.
‘Shopping,’ he said as if that was obvious. He did have a bulky Waitrose carrier bag in one hand. ‘It’s my turn to cook.’
I had no patience with his dull domestic little plans. ‘I must go,’ I said. ‘I’m due at the vet’s.’
He didn’t ask for more detail and I was in no mood to give an account of recent events. Somehow Leslie and Oliver had become insignificant bystanders in the rollercoaster that the day had become. Even if they had murdered Gaynor and Verona, it seemed to matter a lot less than Thea’s distress and Sally’s hip and Kenneth’s pig-inflicted injuries.
Thea was talking to the vet woman in the reception area when I got back. There was no sign of the dog. Help! I thought. They’ve had to put it down. Phil was never going to forgive me.
I couldn’t think of a safe way to phrase the question, so I just looked. ‘I thought you’d gone off without me,’ she said, only half joking.
‘The dog?’ I ventured.
‘He’s got to stay in overnight. The vet thinks the hip’s just dislocated.’ The parallel with old Sally Grover was inescapable. How strange life could be, I thought, ramming events at us in teasing conjunctions, forcing us to make comparisons.
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ I ventured.
Thea sighed. ‘Could be worse,’ she conceded.
The vet picked up the vibes between us and smiled cautiously. ‘He should be fine in a few days,’ she said. ‘He’s a gorgeous dog.’
‘He ran out right behind me,’ I burst out. ‘One minute everything was clear, the next—’
‘It happens,’ said the vet. ‘Setters tend to act on impulse.’
It was a very diplomatic thing to say, I had to give her that. It wasn’t going to help the atmosphere on the drive home, though.
Thea sat beside me in her smelly jumper, trying in vain to reach Phil on the phone. ‘I tried twice at the vet’s and he wasn’t answering,’ she said. ‘When I phoned the police station, they said he was unavailable to take calls. What does that mean?’
‘He must be out on some sort of mission,’ I said. ‘Staking
out somebody’s house, having to keep quiet.’
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, her voice cold.
‘I saw Leslie Giddins just now,’ I said, in an effort to start a new subject. ‘He was talking to Oliver on the phone. His gran’s hurt herself.’
‘Oh dear.’ There was little interest in her tone.
‘And Pamela’s going to wonder where on earth we’ve got to.’
‘I forgot all about that,’ she said, reviving slightly. ‘What’re we going to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘It’s nearly six already.’
‘So?’
‘Nothing, I suppose. Somebody else might have given her a lift by now.’
‘She’ll still want the car.’
‘Mmm,’ I said. ‘Well, I’m thirsty and hungry. I’m not doing anything until I’ve had some tea.’
We went directly back to my house and I put the kettle on. Thea had decided not to disturb the two remaining dogs, if we were going out again in a little while. ‘They’ll be confused,’ she said. We could hear the spaniel barking.
‘She must have smelt you,’ I said.
Thea looked down at her jumper in horror. ‘Oh, God. I’ll have to go and change, won’t I.’
‘I can lend you another one,’ I offered. ‘If you promise to keep it clean.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ she grinned.
‘Did you get any coffee?’ Thea asked me, when I’d turned my attention back to the kettle.
‘Bugger,’ I groaned. ‘Sorry. There’s only tea, I’m afraid.’
I expected her to shrug and accept a mug of nice strong Indian brew, but she surprised me. ‘No,’ she said. ‘There are limits. I can put up with rampaging pigs, damaged dogs, stinking jumpers, but only if I get a decent cup of coffee at the end of it. I’ve got a jar of Gold Blend over the road. I’ll have to go and get it, whether it winds the dogs up or not. I won’t be long. It’s getting dark – I hope I’ll be able to see in that house.’
‘Take a torch,’ I told her, getting on out of a drawer.
When I realised ten minutes had passed, I merely thought she’d gone to the loo, or been distracted somehow. Maybe Phil had finally called her on her mobile.