The Rarest Rose

by I Beacham

  Kiernan volunteered her help. “I can duplicate the photos back home and then I’ll drop the originals back off with Dot. Do you want me to come with you to see Roger?”

  “No, this is something I have to do alone. I’ll ring you later and let you know what I find.”

  How Kiernan wanted to go with Ele, to see if her hunch was right. But she could see why Ele needed to do this alone. There were Roger and Joan to consider. They wouldn’t take kindly to a complete stranger bumbling into their personal affairs. She would have to wait—patiently—while Ele pursued this line of investigation. Patience was not something she felt she had in abundance. She’d have to be content to sort out Dot’s photos. But this sudden turn, that Ele might have stumbled on what had started the haunting, was a bizarre lead. But then everything sinister that was happening was bizarre.

  As she climbed out of Ele’s car, she squeezed her hand. “Please phone me if you need me. I am here for you.” She was. It occurred to her that a ghost was keeping them together at the moment. She was grateful.

  “Wish me luck.”

  Kiernan gave her hand one final squeeze. “Always.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Ele stared at the house in the middle of Pegmire village that resembled a building site and looked for Roger. He was doing a home extension, and she hoped to find him and have a talk. But for now, all she could see was a landscape of mud, a small middle-aged man going up a ladder with roof tiles, and two younger laborers working to the side of the property. It crossed her mind that Roger would not be too far away, as he would be keen to complete the roofing work before the dreaded winter weather put in an appearance. Once that arrived, work would stop and stay that way until well after Christmas. Winter was a bad time for builders. She carefully negotiated her way around pools of wet mud, skipping onto rare islands of dryness.

  “Ele!” Roger limped toward her, his hands waving in the air. “You daft woman. Are you mad? High heels on a building site?”

  Glancing down at her feet, she realized her footwear was out of place and grinned at him. He was laughing as he wrapped his arms about her. He guided her back the way she had come and to relative safety where the mud was less on the walkway.

  “You looking for me?” He wiped his hand across his face, removing building dust.

  “I came to see you about Joan. How’s your foot?” She couldn’t ignore the limp.

  He grimaced as he gingerly balanced on one foot while lifting the other off the ground and rotating it in small circles. “Could be better I suppose, but it’s healing. This damp air makes it stiff and it aches like hell, but I’m coping.”

  “You ought to be resting it. You moan at me being in high heels, but you messing around on a building site with poor balance isn’t helping. You could hurt yourself.”

  “Not going to happen. Building sites are like second homes to me. And frankly, it’s safer here than at home with Joan. I can’t do anything right at the moment, and she never hesitates to let me know.”

  “How is Joan?”

  “Full of you, love. She was thrilled about the book, and it’s lifted her spirits a bit.”

  “But she’s not much better?”

  “Nah, not really. What did you make of her?”

  “That’s what I came to talk to you about. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Always got time for you, love, especially after everything you’ve done for us.”

  It never ceased to amaze Ele how grateful Roger and Joan always seemed toward her, and yet she had done nothing to deserve it.

  Roger guided her toward his van. “It’ll be warmer and drier, and we can talk without any interruptions. Hang on a mo.” He paused and shouted across the site to one of the younger men. “Steve, tell Andy that when you’re both done, you’re to give Norman a hand on the roof. Get some more tiles up there.”

  The lad raised his hand in acknowledgement and then shouted across to the unseen Andy who was at the back of the property. “Andy! We gotta give Stormin’ Norman a hand on the roof when you’re done.”

  “Stormin’ Norman?” Ele asked as she got into the van and closed the door. Roger raised his eyes in discomfort.

  “It’s what the other lads call him. I don’t like it and have said so, but the name’s stuck. Trouble is, Norman is older and moves at his own pace, which can be a bit slow sometimes. When you talk to him, you’re always itching for him to get the next word out. But his work is first-class, and I wouldn’t lose him for the world, not if I had to lay off all the other lads first.”

  “That’s a bit of a golden compliment, Roger. What’s so special about Norman?” Roger glanced down at his hands uneasily. Ele felt he was struggling whether to tell her something.

  “He’s a bloke with a huge heart, although you’d never believe it to talk to him. And he knows how to keep his mouth shut about things…things that are private.” Roger looked across at Ele, his huge dark brown eyes locking onto hers. “You see, a few months ago, something happened—happened here, and Norman, well, he took care of it.” Roger’s entire body language oozed discomfort.

  “I was away picking up some stock I’d ordered. Anyway, one morning, Norman found Joan wandering around here looking frenzied and distraught, her hair unkempt, and she was still dressed in her slippers and dressing gown. She was covered in mud. She’d run out of the house, which as you know is a good half mile away, and come straight here to try to find me. At first, Norman couldn’t get any sense out of her, but she eventually told him that something had scared her at home.

  “Joan told him she’d heard tapping on the window pane at the back of the house, but when she’d peeped behind the curtain, no one was there. But the tapping continued. Norman put his tools down and drove her home. Once there, he went into the garden and scoured it thoroughly for a sign of any perpetrators, but he found no one and nothing. Then he cleaned Joan up and sat with her in front of the fire with a cup of tea until I got there.

  “He managed to convince Joan—maybe—that it was the crows making the tapping noise. You see, crows have a habit of tapping windows if they can see their reflection in it. Years ago, a cheeky crow used to tap the windowsill because Joan hadn’t put food out. Anyhow, Joan was more her old self when I got home. I’ve a lot to thank Norman for. He’s never mentioned it since, to me or any other. He’s a good, decent chap.”

  Roger took a deep breath. “I’m glad you’re here to talk about Joan. I did come looking for you at your place, but you weren’t in.”

  “I’ve been away for a few days.” Ele was glad that Roger brought the conversation back to Joan’s problems. They seemed distressing on so many levels.

  “I’m so glad Joan likes my book.” She removed her brown leather gloves. “It was good to see her again. We spent a good couple of hours talking. I can see she’s not well, and I’ve never seen her look so tired.” She got straight to the point, and Roger seemed grateful. “I tried to talk to her about all this, but the opportunity never arose, and I didn’t want to say anything that would tip her off that you and I have spoken.”

  “I understand.” Roger looked conflicted, and Ele knew he was disappointed, but also feeling guilty for betraying his wife’s trust by talking to others about personal family matters.

  “But I’ve left it open to go back and see her in a few days. She wants to see the water colors I’ve done of—”

  “The kingfishers.” He smiled. “Bless you. It’s all she’s been talking about these last few days. She’s looking forward to your next visit.” He briefly touched her shoulder. “Thank you for bothering.”

  “Don’t be daft, Roger. You and Joan are so dear to me. You’re my friends. Hopefully, Joan might open up more next time I see her, but I need to ask you a few questions, something to help me understand more.” She saw he was agreeable. “When do you think Joan’s troubles started?”

  “That’s easy. It was when she stopped being able to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “And when was tha
t?”

  Roger sucked air through his teeth. “Not sure I can really plot it, but some good long months ago.”

  “Well, was it before you did the work for me, during it, or maybe after it?” This was a crucial question for Ele. Its answer would reveal much.

  He scratched his head. “Joan went to see her sister, Marjorie, after her husband died suddenly. That was before your job. She was all right then. I remember her bringing my lunch up to your place when I left it on the kitchen table one morning. She was all right then. I remember I did a quick job on Bob Price’s roof, after your job. Joan wasn’t all right then.

  “It would be just after I finished your job. It started with some sleepless nights and then her thinking someone was watching her when she was in the garden. I was concerned. I was doing that roof job for Bob, and I wasn’t happy leaving Joan alone in the house. At the time, I thought someone was stalking us.”

  Ele cringed. This all sounded so familiar. “And it’s become worse?”

  “It has. She won’t go in the garden, and that seems to be her key obsession now. It’s what fuels her anxiety and strange behavior. I told you, she won’t go out and top up the bird feeders anymore, and I expect you notice how she keeps the curtains drawn all the time.”

  Ele remembered how dark the house was on her last visit. At the time, she had started to worry that Joan’s problems were something deeper than a serious attack of insomnia. She had considered that the doctor’s thoughts on agoraphobia might have been right. But now?

  She altered her line of questioning. “What did she think of the stone seat?”

  Roger cringed, and something told Ele she was on the right track. “She doesn’t like it, does she?” It was written all over his face. Roger all but crumbled in front of her.

  “Oh, Ele, I hoped you wouldn’t ask me about this. Joan was over the moon when I took it home. Me and a couple of the lads took ages to maneuver it into the garden and place it over by the little water feature. It weighs a ton! Joan never stopped talking about how wonderful it was and admiring how lovely it looked in the garden. At first, she spent ages out there, sitting on it and enjoying the summer. But that was before her illness.”

  “Go on.” Ele could tell Roger was hiding something. She stared at him, willing him to continue.

  “To tell the truth, Ele, she doesn’t like it anymore.” His eyes begged an apology. “At first, it was her pride and joy, but then her illness kicked in. She started saying she didn’t like sitting on it anymore because she never felt alone, like someone was always there with her—watching her. It gave her the creeps.”

  His eyes watered and he looked away from Ele. “I feel bad telling you this, because I know how much joy you got giving it to Joan, and under normal circumstances…” He drew breath, unable to continue for the moment. “I love that woman, Ele. She’s everything to me. Please don’t be upset. She doesn’t like anything outside now, so it’s not just your seat.” Roger visibly shivered as he turned to her and asked a question. “Do you think Joan’s losing her mind?”

  Ele pursed her lips in thought before answering. Roger’s expression changed. It was as if he read an unspoken yes on her face. She had to sort this out and get her answers quick. “I don’t know, Roger. Tell me about these nightmares. What are they about?”

  “Oh, stuff and nonsense.” His voice was dismissive and his expression eased.

  “Tell me, please? It’s important.”

  “It’s pretty much the same dream. Some stranger, a man, is in them in one way or the other. Often, she can’t see him, but knows he’s there. There on the seat. When she does see him, she always wakes up screaming.”

  “Often she can’t see him, but sometimes she can?”

  “She won’t talk about it too much, but from what I can gather, it’s always the same chap. Bit of an old-fashioned bloke with awful piercing eyes. He’s always watching her.”

  Oh dear God. It was the key answer she sought. Ele felt like the last piece of a difficult jigsaw had slotted into place, and she fought to keep her composure. But as she realized the implications of what a simple gift to an old friend had brought about, she felt her shoulders involuntarily sag. She was so sure now that Joan’s problems rested on the awful fact that she had given her the stone seat. A sigh from Roger drew her attention.

  “My precious Joan.”

  Roger was convinced that she thought Joan’s condition was serious. Ele reached out and grasped his arm. “Roger, I need to ask you something. It’s a little odd, but I wouldn’t ask this unless I thought it would help. Can I have the seat back?”

  Roger frowned, dumbfounded at the strange turn of conversation. Ele couldn’t blame him. One minute, they were talking about Joan and her illness, and now about replacing a seat.

  Ele tightened her grip. “I know this sounds peculiar, and I can’t explain it, but I’m sure it’s the stone seat that’s causing Joan’s problems. Things have been happening at home that you wouldn’t believe. I have very strong reasons for believing it should never have been removed. Please, will you bring it back?”

  Roger looked shocked. He scrutinized her so closely she wondered if he was going to ask her to leave his van. Was she making everything worse for him? He continued to look at her hard until he started shaking his head in disbelief. When he next spoke, she could hear what sounded like relief in his voice.

  “I’ve known for a while that I need to get rid of that seat. I’ve had my suspicions that it’s behind Joan’s strange behavior. But how do you explain that? And it was a gift from you.” He looked like none of what he said made sense before adding, “You’re actually taking a weight off my mind.”

  The more she heard, the more Ele knew she was on the right track. “Bring it back, Roger, as soon as you can. I want you to put it back exactly where it was. I’ve photos that will help.”

  He drew his hands down his face, never once taking his eyes off her. Then his expression turned puzzled. “But that’ll mean digging up some of the cobblestones to seat it in again. After all that fuss you made to have them laid in the first place.”

  “Roger! Stuff the stones.” Ele was amazed how he could be so concerned over her cobblestones at a time like this. Typical man. “I know, but it’s what I want. You’re going to have to humor me.” Another thought crossed her mind. “By the way, how did you say you broke your foot?”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “I didn’t. But since you ask, I did it in the garden. I tripped over the seat. I shouldn’t have because there was no reason to, but I did.”

  Ele said nothing, and Roger fidgeted uncomfortably. “Ele, I don’t understand any of this, but since you’re asking, you might also want to know that the dog won’t go anywhere near the seat either.” He squirmed some more. “I don’t know what we’re talking about here. I don’t believe in mumbo jumbo stuff, but this is downright creepy. When do you want the seat back?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “I’ll need a couple of strong blokes to help, and I’ll see if I can borrow a truck with a hoist.” Roger looked across the site to where Norman was going up the ladder again. “Norman might help.” He scratched his head again. “I’m not sure I understand all this.”

  Ele looked him straight in the eyes. “Nor me.”

  He stared back. “Is this going to help my Joan?”

  “I hope so, Roger. I really hope so.”

  *

  “How’s your asthma?” Dot asked as Kiernan sat in her kitchen drinking tea.

  Kiernan had duplicated the photos and then driven over to Dot Harding’s to return them. Dot had insisted she come in for a warm drink and Kiernan had sensed she wanted the company. Truth told, Kiernan wanted it too. Anything to stop her thinking about Ele and what she was going to do.

  “It’s fine, Dot. I now make sure it’s on me all of the time, especially in winter.” She reached into a pocket and pulled an inhaler out as proof. She saw the laughter lines crinkle around Dot’s eyes.

  “Glad to see it
,” Dot said. “Ele was very worried. You shouldn’t frighten her like that.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. It’s a mistake I won’t make again.” Kiernan couldn’t help laughing. Looking back, her desperate moment of struggling for breath had not been without humor. Dot had revealed her own unique way of showing sensitivity.

  “You two been together long?”

  Kiernan was sipping tea and the liquid caught on the back of her throat. Yes, Kiernan thought, Dot had all the sensitivity of a sledgehammer. She coughed. “No. Not long.” She wasn’t ready to start explaining the precise relationship she and Ele had.

  Dot looked surprised. “It’s just that the two of you seem so comfortable together. You have that ease that suggests you’ve been around each other a long time. That normally takes a while to grow.”

  Kiernan was taken aback that Dot might be asking her about personal relationships. She wasn’t shy in stepping forward. Also that she seemed so open to a same-sex relationship. The older generation wasn’t always so accepting and certainly not comfortable talking about it openly. Dot had none of those inhibitions.

  Dot read her face. “I may be old, but I’m not narrow-minded. My granddaughter in Bewdley is a lesbian. Took a bit of getting used to. Far too much women’s underwear over the radiators, and the house too clean. But she’s had a partner for years now. Lovely woman. Loves scuba diving,” she added as if it was important. She sipped her tea, then continued. “My son’s been married twice. Still not right. Looks like it’s all going wrong again. I smell a divorce. He seems to want utopia and the perfect woman. Well, that doesn’t exist.” She leaned back in her chair. “You grab happiness when it comes, and from whatever direction, and you take the ups and downs, too. That’s my philosophy. Don’t you agree?”

  Kiernan went to answer, but Dot gave her no chance.

  “You’re very lucky. You’re obviously right for each other. I’m pleased. Good for you two.” Dot paused before asking, “Do you scuba dive?”