Tea and Broken Biscuits

by Daphne Neville

  Kate frowned. “But if a lane runs by it, it isn’t going to run down as far as the coastal path, is it? There would be no point.”

  “Damn, no. It looks like we’re going to have to go over fields then. Let’s find a meadow because we don’t want to walk over crops and stuff like that.”

  On reaching a grass field they climbed over the fence and keeping to the side by a hedge they headed towards the cottage. When they reached a five bar gate they looked to the other side where a dirt track ran back inland. Eagerly they climbed the gate and followed the track which to their delight ran past the cottage.

  “What do we do now?” Kate asked, as they crouched on a grass verge.

  “Go and knock on the door I suppose.”

  “But what if she’s a witch? I’m suddenly scared.”

  Vicki laughed. “You coward. Come on there are two of us and from what we’ve heard she’s quite small.” Vicki stood and then pulled her sister to her feet.

  “She might not be in,” said Kate, half hoping that was the case.

  Vicki opened a small gate with Wood Cottage notched into the green paintwork. “Of course she’ll be in because according to Auntie Hetty she hardly ever goes out.”

  On either side of the path heather grew in various shades but white was the most prominent colour. Near to the house, birds sang on the leafless branches of a pear tree and over by an old well a garden swing dangled from a brightly coloured frame.

  “Have you got the pound coins safe?” Vicki asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good, come on it’ll only take a minute.” With arms linked the twins walked along the twisted path which led up to the small front door.

  “It’s like the gingerbread house in Hansel and Gretel,” whispered Kate.

  Vicki giggled. “Well if she has a large stone oven keep well away from it.”

  Nervously Vicki knocked on the door. All was silent until they heard a cough from inside the house. Slowly the door opened.

  Lucy Lacey, wearing a spotted dress, long cardigan and slippers with a bobble on the front, smiled. “Come in, come in, my dears,” she said, “I’ve been expecting you.”

  It was half past one when the twins arrived back at Primrose Cottage.

  “Ah, we were about to send out a search party,” joked Bill, as he swallowed the last mouthful of cheese on toast, “It’s not like you two to be late for lunch.”

  “Sorry but we lost track of time,” giggled Vicki.

  “And I expect you’re hungry,” said Lottie.

  “A bit,” admitted Kate.

  Lottie stood up. “What would you like?”

  “A ham sandwich, please,” said Kate, “with a little bit of mustard.”

  Vicki nodded. “And the same for me.”

  “I’ll make them,” Sandra sprang to her feet, “you sit down, Mum. You’ve done enough for one day.”

  “Okay, thank you, love.”

  “So what have you been up to?” Bill asked, as Sandra left the room, “It must be something exciting because you both have shining eyes.”

  Vicki took a sprig of white heather from the pocket of her jeans and held it in front of her face. Kate followed suit.

  Hetty gasped. “You’ve seen Lucy Lacey. Where? According to Kitty she seldom goes out.”

  “We went to her cottage,” blurted Vicki, excitedly, “it’s really dinky. There’s a sitting room, a tiny kitchen and bathroom downstairs and then two little bedrooms upstairs. She let us have a look round while she made us cups of tea.”

  “And the walls in the house are all crooked,” gushed Kate, “and she’s got loads and loads of heather growing in her garden.”

  “There’s also a swing in the garden and an old well,” added Vicki, “and in the upstairs rooms of the house the floors are crooked too.”

  “There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile,

  He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile;

  He bought a crooked cat which caught a crooked mouse,

  And they all lived together in a little crooked house,” Bill recited.

  “Well remembered,” applauded Hetty, “even if it is inappropriate.”

  “I can’t believe you went to her house,” Lottie looked displeased, “Whatever made you do that?”

  “Very silly,” scolded Bill, feeling perhaps he ought to take a more serious stance, “you should never call on strangers like that.”

  “But…but we wanted some heather, like Auntie Hetty because it brought her good luck and got her the part she wanted in the play.” Kate’s mouth turned upside-down.

  Hetty frowned at her sister and then at Bill. “Well, no harm done,” she said, “and I suppose it is my fault for going on about the heather and how Lucy’s broken biscuit prediction seems to have come true.” She stood up and gave both girls a hug, “What’s more, Lottie Burton, it’s the sort of thing we’d have done when we were young.”

  Bill laughed. “Yes, and I suppose if I’m honest I might have done the same myself. Sit down girls.”

  “So, what was the house like?” Hetty was keen to know every detail, “Apart from being crooked that is.”

  “As we said it’s dinky,” reiterated Vicki, “but it feels lovely and cosy.”

  “And from the outside it looks like the witch’s house in Hansel and Gretel, “added Kate.

  Zac laughed. “So does she have a black cat?”

  “No,” snapped Kate, “well, she has a cat but it’s not black, it’s white.”

  “No doubt called Merlin,” chortled Bill.

  “Actually, he’s called George,” said Vicki.

  “But what’s the house like inside?” Hetty asked.

  “Dead old fashioned,” giggled Kate, “and it smells of lavender or something like that.”

  “And on one of the walls is a huge aerial picture of Pentrillick House and the surrounding area including her cottage.” Vicki stretched out her arms to demonstrate the size of the picture, “It nearly covers the whole wall.”

  “She gave us tea and biscuits,” gabbled Kate, “and like she did you, Auntie Hetty, she told our fortunes. It was great fun. We loved it, didn’t we, Vick?”

  Vicki nodded. “Yes.”

  “So what did she say?” Bill was intrigued.

  “I’m going to be a police officer,” stated Kate with gusto.

  “And I’m going to be a history teacher,” added Vicki, with very little enthusiasm.

  “You’re going to be a history teacher,” repeated Sandra as she entered the room with two plates of sandwiches, “but you don’t even like history. In fact you always say you hate it.”

  “Hmm, well I suppose over the next few years I’ll discover I like it.”

  “They’ve had their fortunes told,” Bill chuckled, “by the mysterious Lucy Lacey.”

  “Who isn’t mysterious at all,” cried Kate, “she’s really lovely.”

  “And she has a white cat called George,” said Zac.

  Sandra handed a plate to each of the girls and then sat down. “So where did you see her? I got the impression she seldom goes out.”

  “They went to her house would you believe.” Lottie answered for the girls because they both had their mouths full.

  Sandra tutted. “Poor lady. She must have been surprised when you two turned up.”

  “Well, that’s the strange thing,” muttered Kate, as she swallowed a mouthful of sandwich, “she said, come in, come in, my dears, I’ve been expecting you.”

  “You didn’t tell us that.” Hetty felt giddy.

  “That’s because I’ve only just remembered,” said Kate.

  “And not only was she expecting us,” giggled Vicki, “but she knew who we were.”

  “But how?” Sandra was staggered.

  Kate shrugged her shoulders.

  “Apparently she can sense when things are going to happen,” said Vicki, “because she’s a telepathic soothsayer but she laughed when she called herself that so I don’t know wh
ether or not she was pulling our legs.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I was just wondering,” commented Hetty, who had arrived early at the drama group meeting along with Kitty and Lottie on Monday evening, “if some of the money raised from the play performances could go towards decorating the church. Some of the walls are looking quite shabby and could really do with a lick of paint.”

  Robert sighed as he put out a row of chairs. “Well we don’t really raise much money after expenses and what we do make usually goes towards our Christmas party.”

  “Oh, I see, yes, of course.”

  “And our Christmas party is the highlight of the year for many,” laughed Kitty, as she removed her coat, “as you’ve witnessed these last two years.”

  Hetty smiled. “Yes, I can understand that. Never mind, it was just a thought.”

  “I suppose we could do something else to raise the money,” said Kitty, noting the look of disappointment on Hetty’s face, “a fete perhaps or a sponsored walk.”

  Brett who was at a loose end because Alina was in London, had also arrived early and listened quietly to what was being discussed. “No need,” he said, after brief consideration, “I’m getting quite fond of this village and although I’m not a church-goer I do accept that it’s an important part of the community so I’d be more than happy to pay all costs for it to be decorated.”

  “Would you really?” Hetty was overcome by his generosity.

  Brett smiled. “Yes, of course but I don’t want to make a song and dance of it. Perhaps we can keep it amongst ourselves.”

  “So who would we get to do it?”

  “Leave it with me,” suggested Brett, “and I’ll have a quiet word with Sam when he gets here. He’s bound to know someone but please let my involvement go no further than these four walls.”

  “Mum’s the word,” whispered Hetty. Kitty, Lottie and Robert agreed.

  After the meeting Hetty and Lottie followed Marlene to the pub trying with every step to hear what she was saying to Robert and Brett with whom she had tagged along as they walked down the street, but to their annoyance, they were too far behind to catch more than the occasional word. Kitty wasn’t with them because she wanted to speak to Vicar Sam about church business and so told them to go on ahead.

  When they arrived at the Crown and Anchor, they saw Marlene’s husband, Gary, sitting at the bar talking to a man who was not familiar to either of the sisters. Marlene, however, clearly knew him for she promptly made a bee-line towards her husband where the unfamiliar man kissed her on the cheek. Keen to know who he was Hetty and Lottie sought out Tess.

  “That’s Paul, you know the chap who took a leading part in our drama group’s production in 2016 when he was here for the summer.”

  “Ah, the mystery chap who no-one knows much about,” gasped Hetty.

  Tess nodded. “That’s right.”

  “He’s very handsome,” said Lottie, struck by his thick, dark hair and striking features, “he reminds me of my late husband when he was a young man.”

  “So is he here for a holiday?” Hetty asked.

  “No, apparently he is here for the summer and like before is renting a house somewhere.”

  “In the village?” Hetty was eager for any little detail.

  “I expect so but I don’t know for sure. He only arrived last night.”

  “Oh, pity he didn’t get here a bit earlier,” said Lottie, “then he could have been in Murder at Mulberry Hall.”

  “I said that to him just now,” laughed Tess, “but he said he has rather a heavy workload so is quite happy to watch our efforts instead.”

  Robert was clearly delighted to see Paul and introduced him to Brett. The men then moved to sit at a table in the corner of the bar near to the piano and chatted happily together for the rest of the evening.

  “Paul seemed a nice chap,” commented Lottie as the sisters walked up Long Lane with Kitty on their way home.

  “I thought so too,” Kitty agreed. “I wasn’t involved with the drama group in 2016 when he was here because I had a bad back but I saw his performance and it was quite superb.”

  “In which case,” said Hetty, turning over thoughts in her mind, “if it’s acknowledged that he’s a very good actor, I wonder, is he a nice chap or just pretending that he is?”

  “Oh, Het, surely you’re not suggesting he might in any way be involved in the unsavoury events of late,” tutted Lottie.

  “Hmm, no but it pays to keep an open mind.”

  “But he’s only just got here,” laughed Kitty, “and apparently knew nothing of our troubles until tonight. I overheard Robert telling him.”

  “Only just arrived at Polquillick, yes, but he might have been staying elsewhere in the county and we’re unaware of it.”

  Lottie sighed. “Someone else to add to the list then.”

  On Wednesday, Gideon came out of hospital and so in the afternoon, after first ringing to make sure that it was alright, Hetty and Lottie went to visit him. They found him in the sitting room beside the fire with his feet resting on a stool. While Debbie, his wife, made cups of tea, they asked how he was feeling.

  “Not bad at all and to be honest I feel a lot better for being home. My old head’s a bit sore but then that’s hardly surprising, is it?”

  “No,” agreed Lottie, “and I must admit you look a lot better than I thought you would.”

  “Are you disappointed?”

  Lottie looked horrified. “No, no, of course not.”

  Gideon laughed. “I was only pulling your leg.”

  Hetty briefly puzzled over how best to ask about the attack and in the end decided to be blunt. “Can you actually remember anything about the night you were knocked on the head?”

  “I can’t remember anything useful, more’s the shame. But just before I was hit I heard a squeak and it reminded me of the ball which belonged to our dear old dog.”

  “You used to have a dog, I didn’t know that,” interrupted Lottie, “what breed was it?”

  “A Springer Spaniel and his name was Derek. He died about six months before we moved down here. Bless his heart, he was a lovely dog and great company.”

  “Oh that’s sad. I am sorry.”

  “So what happened after the squeak?” Hetty was a little annoyed by the deviation.

  “It was followed by a strong smell of scent or aftershave. I wish I could identify it, but I can’t,” Gideon chuckled, “never been a great one for recognising scents. Ask our Debbie.”

  Hetty’s hopes were raised. “Ah, but would you recognise it if you came across it again?”

  Lottie laughed. “What are you suggesting, Het, that we drag Gideon along to the chemists and get him sniffing all the aftershave and perfume testers?”

  “Well, no, but now you come to mention it that’s a very good idea.”

  “Certainly a novel proposal,” laughed Gideon, “but would it achieve anything other than getting us thrown out of the chemists?”

  Hetty sighed. “No I suppose not because it’s already common knowledge you remember a scent of some sort so I daresay the person who attacked you has already chucked the bottle, can or whatever in the bin.”

  “I tell you what I would recognise though and that’s the ringtone on my assailant’s phone. I’m pretty good when it comes to music but the trouble is I’d never heard the tune before so can’t say what it was.”

  “Could you hum it?” Hetty was desperate for any information that might help.

  Gideon shook his head. “Sadly not because although I’d recognise it if I heard it again, I can’t remember it. I hope that makes sense.”

  Hetty nodded. “Yes, it does.”

  “Did the police find any fingerprints?” Lottie asked.

  “No, because there wouldn’t have been any. My assailant wore gloves that I do remember.”

  Hetty sat forward in her chair. “Ah, what colour were they?”

  “Black but I couldn’t say whether they were knitted, leather or w
hatever. It all happened too quickly.”

  “So really the police don’t have much to go on. What a shame.”

  “Yes, and it appears nothing was taken apart from the candlesticks so at least I stopped the thief getting away with whatever they were hoping to find and I believe the candlesticks have been found anyway.”

  “Yes, they have. My granddaughters found them discarded on the rocks at the end of the beach.”

  Gideon tutted. “I hope they weren’t damaged.”

  “No, they appear to be fine apart from a small dent. When the police handed them back Kitty took them away to give them a good polish so they’re as good as new now.”

  “Good old Kitty,” laughed Gideon, “she’s a good sort and she tells me the choir’s anthem on Easter Sunday was perfect.”

  “It was and no doubt the choir members were determined it would be as a tribute to you,” said Lottie in earnest.

  Hetty agreed. “Yes, and I know they’d love to find out who attacked you. I’ve heard they were all pretty shaken when they arrived for the practice and found out what had happened.”

  “So I’ve been told. Several came to visit me in hospital, even some of the youngsters. I must admit their thoughtfulness brought a tear to my eyes.”

  “That’s nice to hear,” said Lottie, “and I bet they all wish they’d arrived a little earlier and caught the thief before he absconded.”

  Hetty sighed. “That would have been nice. As it is I don’t think this crime will ever be solved.”

  “I’m inclined to agree and the police have enough on their hands at the moment trying to find out who attempted to murder poor Hazel Mitchell.” Gideon tutted, “Shocking do that.”

  “Did you know her at all?” Lottie asked.

  “Not really, we always greeted each other and so forth. You know, like if we met in the street or I saw her up at Pentrillick House. In fact the last time I saw her was the night I was attacked and I said hello to her then. She was waiting at the bus stop which in retrospect seems a little odd because I know she drives because she had a VW Beetle in a lovely shade of green.”

  “Really!” Hetty wracked her brains to think of a reason why Hazel would have taken the bus if she drove.