A Move to Murder: A Bride's Bay Mystery Page 11

  He put down his glass and stretched, yawning. “Sorry, didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll be off and leave you in peace. Are you staying here tonight, Gina? You’re not driving, are you?” looking doubtfully at the now empty wine glass.

  Gina shook her head. “I’m staying here. We both need the company.”

  “Good.” Tom looked relieved and smiled at her. Lucky Gina, he’s made it clear there was nothing between him and Melissa and that he’s concerned about her, Beth thought. Where’s all this going? But she didn’t want to know.

  Church was full. People needed to gather together for comfort and security. Plus Mark was giving an address about Melissa and Beth knew, as did everyone else, it would be full of compassion and love. He would try and make some sense of it all; but how on earth could you do that, when an innocent, healthy, vibrant person was cut down and their life ended, in such a sudden violent way?

  But Mark did the impossible. The congregation filed silently out of church while the organist played quietly. No rousing recessional hymn today. Beth stayed in the kitchen to help, seeing the extra people crowding into the hall, knowing they were reluctant to leave the fellowship and support they had received, at least for a while.

  “Beth, Gina, Carol, can I introduce you to Grace Harris, Melissa’s sister.”

  Maggie stood in front of the serving hatch, a woman by her side.

  Beth looked up and for a moment felt breathless. At first glance Grace Harris was nothing like her sister; she was a good four inches shorter, plumper and her light brown hair was cut in close layers to her head. But the eyes looking calmly at Beth were Melissa’s, large, a deep rich brown framed with thick almost black lashes. Her cheekbones were also Melissa’s and her mouth when she smiled a greeting caused Beth’s heart to skip a beat. Also Gina’s and Carol’s, as they said later.

  Carol left the kitchen to go and talk to Grace, reporting afterwards that the woman had come down on the Saturday morning and had stayed with Maggie and Mark. Of course. She had seen the police and was staying until that evening, going back to London to sort out a few things then returning to Bride’s Bay to start the arrangements. Arrangements. What an innocuous word to cover planning a funeral, sorting the house, dealing with the paperwork and officialdom involved with the ending of a life. At least she would have Maggie and Mark to help but Beth’s heart ached for her.

  Chapter 8

  Shock. Speculation. Gossip.

  Wherever she went, Beth came across shocked looking faces and huddled conversations.

  Even the children weren’t immune.

  Helen came back into the nursery after her break, where Beth was supervising the fifteen children drinking their milk and eating their fruit.

  “Honestly. Sue gave all the children a talk in assembly about respecting the poor woman who died and not chatting about it, outdoing each other with tales of who had seen what and what do we get? Everyone in the staff room doing exactly the same thing.” She put a pile of folders down with a thump and glared at Beth.

  “I suppose it’s a coping mechanism” suggested Beth. “You know, talking it through, getting it out of your system? Maybe it’s the mind’s way of managing horrific events.”

  “More like a gossip’s way of enjoying some excitement.” Helen was not to be appeased, snatching a piece of apple as it was about to be used as a missile.

  “Joseph! If you don’t want it, just leave it on your plate. Don’t throw it at Isaac!”

  Beth noticed Isaac’s smug expression and guessed that he had already hurled the first missile. She sighed. Neither she nor Helen was on their usual form today. At least she could go home in just over an hour. Helen would be there until at least 5 o’clock, Monday being Staff Meeting day.

  She was tempted to cry off helping at Tea and Chat, her stomach sinking at the thought of more speculation and vicarious shocked excitement. But that wasn’t fair on Maggie. Ali wouldn’t be there to help today. And Melissa. Lively, sparkling Melissa, who had flirted with the elderly men, commiserated with the unwell, endeared herself to the young mum’s through her genuine admiration of their parenting skills and offspring, flattered the teenagers and reduced their insecurities. What an impact she had made in such a short time, Beth realised with a shock. How she would be missed. She had been a breath of fresh air in Bride’s Bay. Even irritable, dissatisfied Frances had blossomed; Melissa recognising the hard to please woman’s skills with plants, praising her flower arrangements. Tom had said Melissa had been round to Frances’s garden a few times, both women having a strong appreciation of the beauty of nature.

  Tom himself had also had an impact on the town. He could even coax a smile from Frances and she was a regular visitor to his garden, cutting flowers for church and generally treating his garden as an appendage to her own. This said ruefully, his plans to change the garden having to proceed slowly and carefully, to avoid upsetting Frances. Tom, like Melissa, got along with everyone. He could encourage the shy to chat, the sullen to smile and with his strong frame and muscle was greatly in demand when chairs needed stacking, tables moving or boxes lifted. He was also a natural organiser, persuading people to assist with functions and events when they had been determined to avoid doing so. Maggie had made noises to Carol that he would be a welcome addition to the PCC but Gina had laughed and said Tom had anticipated this and had his excuses ready.

  He was at Tea and Chat this afternoon, carrying trays of tea around the hall and chatting as he paused by tables. Gina was serving drinks with Beth and she noticed the glances he made in their direction, though Gina showed no sign of being aware. Beth was wearing one of her new dresses, floral cotton with a fitted waist and flared skirt. She had loved it in the shop, thinking it flattered her waist and the vibrant green and white print emphasised her green eyes; but now standing next to Gina in her pale blue linen shift dress, her ash blonde hair swept back as immaculately as usual, her skin smooth and tanned and her eyes as blue as the sky, she felt like a character from Grease. Of course Tom would only have eyes for her friend. And Gina was as lovely inside as out; and deserved some happiness. Stop wanting what you can’t have and be pleased for her.

  Gina had gone to speak to someone and Beth came back to the present with a jerk, realising the object of her thoughts was standing in front of her, speaking.

  “I said a penny for them.” Tom smiled. “Although I actually came over to ask for three more teas and two slices of carrot cake.”

  If you only knew, thought Beth, but forced a smile, admitting she had been miles away. “Sorry, no can do with the carrot cake, Angela Harris made it and it always goes first. But I’ve got a cherry cake or...I think it’s a date loaf” looking doubtfully at a heavy, dark cake.

  “One of each then, please.” Tom was gone, bearing a tray, and Gina returned, a frown marring her smooth skin.

  “Alright?”

  “Oh, just the usual gossips. Still suspicious of James and Ken and their employees. Now Julian is in for the wagging tongues. And some of them even think Mark knows more than he is telling.”

  “Mark! That’s ridiculous! What could he possibly know?” Beth was indignant and all thoughts of her best friend’s potential love life were swept away.

  He didn’t know anything. But that didn’t stop the gossip for the rest of the week. Tempers frayed as accusations flew around. Speculation escalated to bursting point as Julian was taken in for questioning, and Ken, James and their respective workforces were interviewed again. Grace returned from London to arrange the funeral, the police having released the body for burial. She decided to stay at Melissa’s house but took most of her meals at the vicarage, making plans with Mark and Maggie.

  News of Carol’s forthcoming operation also provided gossip fodder and she began to feel the strain as she was questioned over and over again about it. Ken, never demonstrative or expressive at the best of times, withdrew into himself and locked himself away in his study. He was worried about his staff and the effect on them of the inve
stigations; worried about his wife, but had no vehicle to express his fears and instead became uncommunicative and irritable. Carol, knowing her husband well, accepted this and tried to ease his worry. But the strain told on her and she looked grey and tired.

  One bright ray in the dismal week. Beth had returned home after the charity shop to a message on the answer phone. Nell had Thursday and Friday off work and wanted to come over to see Beth. Delighted, she phoned her back to confirm it was fine, arranging to meet Nell at the house as soon as she finished work.

  Nell was her usual bubbly self. They walked into town and had a leisurely lunch at Mario’s then wandered round the shops in the sunshine. Passing by the bakers, Beth popped in and bought some fresh scones, golden and crammed with plump fruit, then went to buy some clotted cream to go with them. Visitors had started arriving, evidenced by the queue at the ice cream kiosk at the Mermaid Cafe. At Nell’s insistence they joined the queue, then strolled home along the sea front, licking the ice creams quickly before they melted.

  Nearing Tom’s house, Beth caught sight off his sandy red hair over the garden wall. Nell was chatting away, her light voice animated, and he looked up at the sound. Straightening up, wiping his hands down the front of his shorts, he called out a greeting. Beth stopped, turning to her niece.

  “Nell, this is a new neighbour, Tom. Tom, my niece Nell.”

  Tom held out his hand, smiling. “I recognise you from your photo.” Nell looked enquiringly at her aunt and for a moment Beth was confused, then realised he must have seen the photo of her niece on the fireplace on Saturday evening. It was a photo she loved; Nell’s graduation, with Nell looking proud and happy in her gown and mortar board, the world just waiting for her. He hadn’t commented at the time but then conversation had hardly been normal that evening.

  “I’m just about to have a break. Care to join me?”

  “Lovely!” Nell was bounding down the path, Beth following more slowly. Tom led the way round the side of the house and into the back garden, gesturing to a wooden table and chairs under a large apple tree.

  “What will it be? Tea, coffee, wine, a soft drink? I’ve got a nice strawberry and elderflower cordial, courtesy of Waitrose. Especially good with sparkling water and ice.”

  “Sounds heavenly” Nell smiled her agreement and leant back in her chair, slim tanned legs stretched out in front of her.

  “Yes please” Beth agreed, sitting next to her niece and smoothing down the cotton skirt she had worn to work that morning.

  “Oh! You beauty!” Nell had spotted Tess, lying in the shade under the table and bent down to stroke her.

  Tom was wearing a dark blue Polo shirt and stone coloured shorts, almost down to the knees, with tough brown leather sandals. Beth watched him walk up the steps into the house, at his long straight back, broad shoulders and his strong, tanned legs. His hair shone gold in the sun and lay thick against the collar of his Polo shirt.

  Nell sighed contentedly, turning her face up to the sun.

  Tom returned after a few minutes with a tray containing glasses and a large jug of cordial, ice chinking.

  “This is a pretty garden, and interesting.” Nell was looking around, her background in horticulture coming to the fore.

  “Unfortunately I can’t take the credit. The previous owner made it; he was quite a plantsman, apparently.”

  “He must have been. Some of these plants are really unusual choices for a town garden, but work well.”

  Nell was on her feet, wandering around and admiring the different elements. Eventually she sat down again, smiling at Tom. “I’m jealous! This is a wonderful garden.”

  “But so is yours – Beth’s I mean. She tells me you worked so hard on it, getting it like it is now.”

  “I did” agreed Nell “or rather, we did. Though to be honest, Aunty Beth did most of the hard work, I just did the pretty, easy bits!”

  “Well you were only a teenager” smiled Beth “and had all your school work to do.”

  The conversation switched to Nell’s job and her university course, then turned to her education and teenage years in Bride’s Bay, and any hope she had had that Nell would skip over the early years and the reason for their move swiftly disappeared when Nell told him all about her mother’s death; the car driven by an eighteen year old who had lost control on an icy road that January morning and hit Louise’s car head on, changing lives for ever. Tom knew of the death of the young girl’s mother, but not all the details, and his eyes were warm with sympathy as he leaned towards Nell, his hands clasped between his knees. Beth couldn’t bear to look at him or Nell, fixing her gaze on the birds fluttering around the bird table on the far side of the garden, and so missed the look of sympathy he flashed at her. But Nell was in control, able to talk about it calmly, which was a mark of how well the girl had adjusted, Beth thought with some consolation.

  The air began to cool and Tom suggested they moved indoors. He had put the cream in the fridge when they had arrived and readily agreed to Nell’s suggestion that they shared the scones with him.

  They sat around the kitchen table with a large pot of tea and a plate full of fluffy scones, strawberry jam and clotted cream.

  “Mmmm.” Nell licked the jam of her fingers.” One of the things we Brits do best, like Pimms and roast beef and Yorkshire puddings.”

  “And apple crumble and custard” joined in Tom. “Beth? What’s your secret culinary indulgence?”

  “Shepherd’s Pie” promptly. “It’s such a tasty, satisfying meal, followed by fruit crumble, but with ice cream.”

  “Such sophisticated tastes we all have” laughed Tom, then jumped as Nell grabbed his arm.

  “Tom! There’s a face, looking in at the window.” Her usually slightly high voice rose even higher in fright.

  Nell pointed to the window over the sink on the far side of the room.

  Tom jumped up and strode over to the French doors, stepping over the threshold. Then the women heard a voice Beth recognised and Tom reappeared, his arm under Francis’s elbow.

  “It’s just a neighbour Nell, don’t worry” his voice had an edge Beth had never heard before, as he ushered the cause for Nell’s alarm into the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sure” Frances’s voice had the same edge as Tom’s. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone. I was just going to cut some foliage. You said it was alright.”

  Tom had calmed down. “Yes, I did, and it’s fine. But you knew I was here, the car’s outside. Maybe next time you could knock first?”

  Frances was wrong footed and annoyed. “But you might not have been here, just because your car’s there. You could have been out walking Tess.”

  Tom couldn’t argue with that and gestured Frances to take a seat, pouring her a cup of tea.

  “True. Well, maybe you could just ring the bell on your way in, then anyone will have warning of someone coming in.”

  This suggestion seemed to meet approval, as did the cup of tea and the last half of a scone, that Tom cast a

  wistful look at as Frances picked it up.

  “And I’m sorry Miss Dobinson. I guess I’m just a bit jumpy, all the tales Aunt Beth has been telling me.” Back to the murder and burglaries. But Frances didn’t seem inclined to gossip, to Beth’s relief.

  “Yes, it has been alarming. But I’m sure the police are working hard to solve them. Speculation and panic won’t help.”

  Beth didn’t often agree with Frances but with these views she concurred wholeheartedly.

  Frances went to cut the foliage and Tom tidied up and said he would follow Beth and Nell down to the beach with Tess later.

  “He’s rather nice.” Nell looked sideways at Beth, speculatively, as they walked home.

  “Yes he is” agreed Beth. “He also gets on very well with Gina.”

  “Oh.” Nell looked disappointed, then brightened. “Well, that’s nice for Aunty Gina.” Then hopefully “Has he got a brother or a friend?”

  “Nell!” Beth tapped her niec
e lightly on the arm as they went indoors, to a rapturous welcome from Charlie.

  Nell took Charlie for a long walk on the beach on Friday morning, while Beth was at work. The fine weather continued so Beth made some lunch and they ate it in the garden, at the little wrought iron table bought many years before, when they had been renovating the garden. Nell had spent the previous evening talking about Will when they had returned from walking Charlie and was talking about him again now.

  “So I think maybe I’ll head back when you go to flower arranging, Aunty Beth. I want to miss the Friday afternoon traffic.”

  Yes, and see Will as soon as he finished work. But Beth didn’t voice that thought.

  Nell left, car windows down and arm waving. It had been a lovely visit, even nicer for being unexpected and it had certainly cheered Beth up.

  But not for long.

  Beth sensed the atmosphere as soon as she walked into the church. Gina made a face at her from the arrangement she was doing by the font and Carol’s back was rigid as she swept some petals from the Lady Chapel. Ali was desultorily soaking some oasis in the little flower room at the side of the church and Frances was darting from one pedestal to another, her movements quick and nervous. No one was talking.

  Beth went to the font to see if Gina needed some help, knowing she didn’t but feeling intimidated by the other three women.

  “What’s going on?” in a whisper.

  Gina shrugged. “Ali hasn’t said a word. Carol snapped at me and Frances is buzzing around like a bad tempered wasp.”

  The description was so apt both women smiled and Carol, catching sight of them, put down the broom and joined them.

  “I’m sorry Gina, I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m just a bit, you know, not myself. I just want Tuesday to be over.”