‘November 21st 2017
Dear Alice,
I fear that my days are numbered and as I prepare to meet my maker I need to clear my conscience of a few things. I can’t tell Norman, he would be horrified and so I must tell you.
Sometime in the future it’s inevitable that Joe will die, the Bakehouse will be sold and the new owners will no doubt make changes to the property and I fear that one of the changes will be to expose or knock out the old oven. Should that happen then my guilty secret will be revealed.
You see, the reason I left Joe was not because I had met someone else. It was because I couldn’t bear to live in the house knowing that Geraldine Glover was there too or should I say the remains of Geraldine. Please let me explain. I knew that Joe was unfaithful to me but had no proof and so one evening when he left home to go for a walk I followed him. Norman was asleep and I doubted I would be gone for long and I wasn’t. Joe walked the short distance to St Mary’s Avenue where he went inside Willow House without even knocking on the door. That was enough to confirm my fears. I knew Geraldine’s husband was away at sea. If you remember he was an officer in the Royal Navy. For several days I kept my anger under control but of course said nothing to Joe. For some reason I didn’t blame him. I blamed her.
A week later, Joe, after he’d done the baking, went off to Truro to visit his parents and left me to manage the shop. I remember it clearly, the weather was dry and sunny although a little chilly but then it was February. Norman was with you for the day. Do you remember? You took him to the beach wearing his new gumboots and he paddled in a rock pool. Bless him, he was just two years old. Anyway, I digress. While in the shop Geraldine came in wearing an obviously new two piece suit. It had a figure hugging jacket and a pencil skirt and she looked a million dollars. On her feet were a pair of brown patent leather high heeled shoes and she carried the patent leather handbag of which I’d always been envious. She seemed a little glum and was clearly disappointed to see me. I put it down to the fact her husband had returned home the previous day. And then she smiled sweetly and asked where Joe was in a provocative manner. She looked so glamorous standing there, beautifully made up and reeking of expensive scent while I, having had a busy morning serving in the shop was all hot and bothered. Something snapped, Alice. I saw red, came out from behind the counter and told her to leave Joe alone. She laughed at me. I was furious and without thinking grabbed her by the throat. Despite her heels she was smaller than me. Less strong too. Before I realised what I was doing she lost her balance and fell away from my grip and onto the floor. As luck would have it, it was one o’clock and so time to close for lunch. I quickly locked the front door, pulled down the blind and dragged her into the baking room where I filled a glass with water and threw it onto her face hoping it would bring her round. It didn’t work and to my horror I realised she was dead. Panic stricken I knew I had to dispose of the body so from the bottom of the wardrobe in the spare bedroom I took out an old eiderdown which had seen better days and wrapped Geraldine inside it. I then put her inside the old oven and pushed her right to the back. The reason I did this was because I knew Charlie Pascoe was coming the next day to brick up the oven and render the wall. The trouble was I didn’t want him or Joe to see the eiderdown at the back and so I quickly filled two boxes with various odds and sods from around the house and inside the dustbin and then stood them in front of the eiderdown. I thanked God that the oven was huge.
When he came home, I told Joe about the boxes and said it was to be a surprise should anyone expose the oven in the future. Joe thought it an excellent idea. However, to make sure he didn’t pull the boxes out to see what was inside, I helped him with the baking the following morning and made sure he was not left in the room until after Charlie had arrived and started to brick it up. It was such a relief when the job was done and all evidence of Geraldine’s visit to the shop was hidden away. Actually that’s not quite true. I have to confess that I couldn’t bear to see Geraldine’s lovely handbag buried nor her matching shoes and so I kept them back to admire and pretend they were mine. Of course I couldn’t let Joe see them and so I kept them hidden in the bottom of my piano.
The following day word got out that Geraldine was gone but to my relief her husband didn’t seem bothered, in fact he almost seemed pleased and I even heard it said that he’d sent her packing. And so I thought I’d committed the perfect crime and was convinced I would never be found out. The trouble was my conscience got the better of me and as I said earlier, I couldn’t stay knowing that Geraldine was there. And so in a way she probably won because she stayed in the house with Joe while I had to go away and leave behind everything I held dear except of course for Norman. I even lost Geraldine’s shoes and handbag because in my haste to leave I forgot to pack them.
I hope, Alice that you will not think too ill of me. To tell you this has been a very difficult chore but I feel better already for having confessed to you. It’s unlikely that I shall ever see you again…not in this life anyway. But thank you for the good times we had when we were children.
I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me.
Your sister, Eve.’
Hetty carefully folded the letter and returned it to its envelope. “Oh, dear, you poor soul. You must have been horrified when you received this.”
“Yes, I was, and that’s why I couldn’t bring myself to attend the burial of Eve’s ashes. I couldn’t tell Norman why so just said it would be too upsetting. And of course knowing the letter had been lost for so long somehow made it all worse. It was like receiving it from a ghost.”
“Have you told the police about the letter?” Lottie asked.
Alice shook her head. “No, I’ve told no-one. Do you think I ought?” Her voice was little more than a whisper, “I mean, it was so long ago.”
“Yes,” said Lottie, “you must if for no other reason than to clear Joe’s name.”
“But think of the affect it’ll have on Norman. Surely it would be best to leave well alone. After all Eve’s dead so she can’t be brought to justice.”
“I can’t really see that Norman will be hurt any more than he already is,” reasoned Hetty, “after all at the moment he thinks that his father was a murderer.”
“But he doesn’t remember his father, does he? In fact up until a couple of months ago he thought his father was Oscar Williams. He knew nothing of Joe.”
“Yes, and I can understand where you’re coming from,” sympathised Hetty, “but I still think you should tell the police. After all it’s not just Norman’s feelings that are at stake. Remember he has half brothers and sisters who would be greatly relieved to hear that their father was innocent.”
Alice slowly nodded. “Yes, yes, you’re quite right. I promise I’ll phone the police after you’ve gone although I’m not quite sure what to say.”
“All you need do is to show them the letter,” said Hetty, kindly, “It says all they need to know.”
“And they’ll be pleased because it will enable them to close the case,” Lottie added.
As they rose and walked towards the door Alice asked, “Is the care home nice? You know, where Charlie is.”
“Lovely,” enthused Lottie, “very bright and with far reaching views of the sea. It’s up behind the school.”
“Yes, I know where it is although I’ve never been there as it wasn’t built until after I’d left the village but my next door neighbour here worked there for a time. She’s retired now and has moved away but the reason I mentioned it is because it’s just come back to me that I remember her telling me and my husband about a scandal there donkey’s years ago. It had no bearing on Eve of course but apparently one of the staff there sucked up to the wealthier residents whose memories were vague. She found fault with their grown-up children and sowed seeds of doubt as to their worthiness and then suggested they leave her some of their money in their wills. She slipped up though because one of her victims was more astute than she realised and when the victim’s dau
ghter next came to visit, her mother told what she suspected.”
“Oh dear, so what happened to her?” Hetty asked, “The gold-digger, that is.”
“She was instantly dismissed and as far as I know left the area.”
“Sadly that sort of thing seems to happen quite a lot,” said Lottie, as they walked into the hallway.
“Yes, I suppose it does. Anyway, if you go to the care home again, please tell Charlie I send my regards.”
“We will,” Lottie squeezed Alice’s hand and then opened the front door.
As they climbed into the car Hetty glanced back at the cottage where Alice waved to them from the sitting room window. “I suppose we ought to have told her about the messages sent to Norman and the others even though we all think they’re the work of a prankster.”
Lottie closed the car door and fastened her seat belt. “Maybe, but I’m glad we didn’t because I think she’s got quite enough to think about without that. Poor Alice. It must have been difficult for her to come to terms with the fact her sister was a murderer, that’s if she has yet, and I can quite understand why she lied to us as regards the date Eve left Pentrillick.”
“So can I, and you’re right about the messages because I daresay Norman will tell her as he’s bound to pay her a visit before he goes back home.”
Lottie sighed. “Yes, poor Norman I think he’ll be devastated when he hears the truth about his mother.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The following evening, Jackie arrived in the village and because all rooms at the Pentrillick Hotel were taken she attempted to book a room at Tuzzy-Muzzy. To her dismay, despite the fact it was November, she learned the guest house was fully booked too.
“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?” Chloe who ran the guest house asked.
“Yes, I was down a little while ago. I’m a friend and next door neighbour of Norman Williams. You know, the chap who is the son of Joe the baker. Well, one of them anyway.”
“Ah, yes, of course. If you’ll just hang on a minute I’ll see if I can find you somewhere to stay.
Jackie sat down in the reception area beside a tall rubber plant while Chloe went into the office. When she came back out she was smiling. “I’ve found you a room and it’s not far away. It’s next door in fact with Lottie and Hetty. Lottie is the mother of Bill who along with his family have bought the Old Bakehouse. They have a single room which they’d be happy to let you have for as long as you want.”
“Oh, I know who you mean. An elderly couple of sisters, twins I believe. I met them when I was here last time.”
Chloe smiled. “That’s right but I’d try and avoid referring to them as elderly if I were you especially when they’re in earshot.”
“Point taken.”
“Anyway, if you go round now you’ll find they’re waiting for you. You can’t miss it. It’s the house next door and it’s called Primrose Cottage. You’ll see the name on the gate.”
“Brilliant. Thanks…err…”
“Chloe, I’m Chloe.”
“Yeah, thanks, Chloe.”
“So,” said Hetty, later that evening as she walked down Long Lane with her sister and Jackie, “you didn’t book a room at the hotel because you wanted to surprise Norman and when you got here and found it was full up you went to Tuzzy-Muzzy on their recommendation?”
“That’s right, I never dreamt the hotel would be full at this time of the year and again I can’t thank you enough for helping me out. At one point I thought I’d have to go home which would have been dreadful because I’ve taken a week’s holiday especially to be here.”
“No problem at all,” said Lottie, “it’s nice to have some young company.”
“So out of curiosity, can you tell us what Eve was like?” Hetty asked, “We don’t like to bother Norman and it’d be nice to get a picture of her from someone who wasn’t a family member anyway.”
“Of course,” Jackie’s face broke into a smile, “Well, apart from the fact she was tall, slim and elegant, what else would you like to know?”
“Well, how long had you known her and stuff like that?” Hetty was careful not to be indiscreet.
“I see. Well, Mum, Dad and me moved next door to Eve and Norman several years ago and not long after Eve’s husband, Oscar had died so of course we never knew him. Actually, I should correct that, shouldn’t I? After all we now know that Eve and Oscar weren’t married. Anyway, Mum and Dad liked Norman and Eve and so they often spent time with each other. You know, Mum would pop in for coffee with Eve and they’d come to us for a drink on Christmas morning and stuff like that. At the time I had a boyfriend and we’d been going out together for a couple of years and then one day he met someone else and dumped me. I was heartbroken.”
“What a cad,” blurted Hetty.
Jackie laughed. “I would have agreed with you back then but to be honest I’m glad we’re no longer together.”
“That’s alright then,” said Lottie, “please continue.”
“Well, after Liam left I was at a bit of a loose end and so one day I popped in to see Eve knowing that she was on her own because Norman was at work.”
“Sorry to interrupt but where does Norman work? We’ve never actually asked him,” said Hetty.
“He’s something to do with insurance but I’m not quite sure what.”
“And what do you do?”
“I’m a waitress-cum-barmaid so I work irregular hours.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, when I went to see Eve she could see that I was upset so asked me why and I told her all about Liam. She was so sympathetic, bless her and I have to admit it made me cry. After that we became good friends and I often popped in for a chat, but sadly not long after that her memory started to go and she was eventually diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Norman was distraught and so knowing she loved music and playing the piano, he bought some karaoke equipment hoping that if she was able to sing it might help her overcome her memory loss. We had some wonderful times together; Eve had a gorgeous voice and between us we learned how to sing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. You know, as in Freddie Mercury and Queen.”
Both sisters nodded.
“Anyway, gradually she got worse and Mum and I took it in turns to help Norman look after her. I was with her on the morning before she died. It was strange, the room seemed eerily quiet and Eve appeared to be sleeping and then suddenly she opened her eyes and reached out for my hand. “I’ve done some bad things in my life, Jackie,” she said, “Do you think God will forgive me?” I told her that he would and she seemed to be content after that. She died a few hours later. I remember looking at the clock. It was one o’clock. Mum and I were with her and so was Norman.”
As they reached the bottom of Long Lane, Hetty and Lottie noticed in the light from the street lamp that there were tears in Jackie’s eyes. She paused before they crossed the road. “I suppose one of the bad things she considered herself to have done would have been leaving Joe the baker and taking Norman away but that’s not such a bad crime, is it? I mean, you often hear of families breaking up.”
Hetty felt her cheeks flush. “When did you last speak to Norman?”
“Oh gosh, it must be several days ago now. It might even be a week.”
“So you’ve not heard of the latest developments?”
“Norman told me about the messages but he reckons it was a prank. Is there something other than that then?”
“Yes, but let’s get inside by the fire and then we’ll tell you.”
With Hetty and Lottie dreading the revelation they must disclose, the three ladies crossed the road and went into the Crown and Anchor.
Inside Primrose Cottage the following day, Lottie was seated by the fire watching the early evening news; Jackie had gone into the village to see Norman, and Hetty was in the kitchen preparing their dinner. As Hetty strained hot vegetable water from the saucepan into a jug and stirred in gravy granules she thought about Jackie and the misery she and Lottie had caused her whe
n they had told her that it was Eve who had taken the life of Geraldine Glover and not Joe. Her mind then drifted back to their recent visit to see Alice and she wondered how the elderly lady had fared telling the police of her sister’s ghastly crime. And then there was the conversation they’d had with Alice when leaving her cottage in Porthleven as regards the person who had tried to trick residents at the care home into leaving her their wealth.
Hetty stopped stirring. Pamela had worked at the care home in the nineteen sixties and left abruptly. She insinuated that she’d left of her own free will. Was that the truth or had she actually been sacked? Was she the woman of whom Alice had spoken? Hetty dished up the dinners with haste and carried the hot plates into the sitting room to share her thoughts with Lottie.
The following morning, the sisters walked down to the village and knocked on the door of 4, Main Street. Natalie Burleigh, still wearing her dressing gown, answered.
“Oh no, we haven’t dragged you out of bed have we?”
“I was up but only just. I was on duty last night and should have finished at midnight but then one of the carers had to go home because she was feeling unwell and so I stayed on until four this morning.”
“That’s so thoughtless of us,” said Hetty, “we do apologise.”
“Not a problem. Would you like to come on in?” She stepped back so they could enter the small passageway and waved her hand towards the living room.
“I’ll put the kettle on because I’m dying for a cup of tea. Would you ladies like one too?”
“That would be lovely, thank you,” said Lottie. Hetty agreed.
“So do you have some exciting news?” Natalie asked after the tea was made.
“Not very exciting and more of a question really,” acknowledged Lottie.
“I’m intrigued. Fire away.”
Hetty took a sip of tea and then placed her mug on the coffee table. “We went to see Alice yesterday. I don’t suppose you know her but she’s the younger sister of Eve. Eve being Joe the baker’s second wife.”
The Old Bakehouse Page 16