A Move to Murder: A Bride's Bay Mystery Page 16

  Carol reacted first. “Beth, Beth, what is it? What have you got?”

  The three women stared at the clear plastic bag, dripping with water, and at the contents.

  Frances, white faced. “Don’t open it. It’s a chisel or something. And it’s all...” Her voice shook as she stared at the object in Beth’s hand in horror.

  Beth slumped down on a pew, holding the plastic bag at arm’s length. Her hand shook as she looked down at the transparent bag, smeared with red, and at the hammer inside it.

  Carol had run to find Mark and Maggie and Frances sat down heavily next to Beth. Neither women spoke. Beth held her arm out as far as she could, her arm soon beginning to tremble with the effort. After what seemed hours Mark rushed in and skidded to a halt in front of her. “Beth, Beth my dear. Give it to me.”

  She needed no encouragement. Maggie appeared behind him and put her arm around Beth’s shoulders. “Come with me. I’ve phoned the police. Mark will deal with this. You too, Frances.”

  Shepherding the two women in front of her, she led them outside and round into the vicarage kitchen, where Carol was already making a pot of tea.

  How many times was she going to drink tea for shock? Beth thought hysterically.

  Frances sat opposite her, her face almost transparent with shock. “What was it? What was it doing there? Why was it so bloody?”

  “Let’s wait for the police.” Carol, calmly.

  She’s bearing up better than Frances and me, Beth thought, trying to control her shaking hands as she picked up her cup.

  Police seemed to be everywhere. Questions and more questions. Beth answered in a daze. Frances left and Beth went through it all again. At last they seemed satisfied and said she could go for now. Go? Beth didn’t think she could go anywhere. Her legs wouldn’t move. No one had said anything. But she knew. She had known from the moment she pulled the bag out of the arrangement and saw the red and brown smears. She had found the weapon that had killed Melissa.

  Maggie urged Beth to stay for the night but she went with Carol. Maggie had enough to do and Carol wasn’t going to let Beth go home alone. The police had warned them not to mention the discovery so Carol had sent a text to Tom from Beth’s phone, explaining she wouldn’t be walking that evening. Then Ken had gone round to collect Charlie and his food and bowl for the night.

  The police had called round again in the early evening. More questions. Then Ken had taken her to the station to sign her statement. They hadn’t got back until nearly midnight.

  She hadn’t expected to sleep but the drama of the week caught up with her and, after drinking the warm milk Carol had made her and snuggling under the soft duvet, Charlie by her side, she had felt her eyes closing and knew nothing more until the sun streaming through the thin curtains woke her in the morning.

  “Oh my God. Beth!” Tom looked at her in horror as they made their way down the shingle to the water’s edge. He sat down abruptly.

  The police had phoned that afternoon to say they were certain it was the murder weapon and were just waiting for DNA test results to confirm it. But all indications suggested it was.

  “Are you alright? What a shock, you must be...” His face turned to hers was shocked and worried.

  “I’m fine, really.” Beth interrupted. “Honestly. It was a shock finding it but I’m okay now. I stayed at Carol’s last night. And now they might get further with the investigation. They’ve been talking to Gina today.”

  Tom raised his brows in query.

  “She did the arrangement” explained Beth. “The one especially for Melissa’s funeral. The one I” she faltered “the one I found the hammer in.”

  Yesterday had been a nightmare; question after question, statements, checking statements. And she knew Gina had been through it all today. But she was alright, she reflected, actually feeling relieved that the murder weapon had been found and the police could act on it. Would have preferred someone else to have found it, obviously, but at least it was found.

  Tom looked at her in amazement but realized she was telling the truth. Her face was so transparent; it was so obvious when she was happy, scared, upset.

  “But let’s not talk about it. Tell me how Tess got on.”

  Tom had taken Tess to the vets the day before, worried about the dog’s sight. One dog ailment led to talk of another and dog talk occupied them for half an hour, until they made their way back up the beach.

  “Come in for a drink?” They had stopped at Tom’s gate.

  Beth shrugged. “Why not? Sunday tomorrow, a lie in. Well, for as long as Charlie lets me, anyway.”

  She followed him into the kitchen as he opened the doors into the garden, the scent of honeysuckle and roses drifting in. She leaned against the worktop as he took a bottle of wine out of the fridge and opened it. She was wearing the mint green cotton dress, the colour causing her tanned skin to glow and her eyes to shine, clear green with gold flecks. The dress was fitted at the waist, emphasising the soft curves of her chest and hips. The walk had been breezy and her hair tumbled around her face. Tom felt a tug at his heart, concentrated on pouring the wine to distract him from the urge to smooth back her hair, stroke that warm, scented skin. Handed her a glass and motioned her to sit on the sofa by the open doors. It was smaller than the one in the living room and Beth was intensely aware of Tom’s long, muscular jeans clad leg close to hers, his tanned, golden haired arm stretching along the back of the sofa, behind her. She shifted into the corner of the sofa, her knee the only part making contact.

  But the icy cold drink relaxed her and she leant back with a sigh.

  “What a week. I keep thinking it can’t get any worse and then it does. And Bride’s Bay used to be so quiet and dull.”

  “I’m sure it will be again, once all this is over.”

  Tom sipped his drink and looked at her.

  “Did you think about telling Nell?”

  Beth nodded. “Yes. And I will. But I’ll wait until after her trip to the Cotswolds. She’s so looking forward to it. And if she and Will are still an item after that, well, that will make it a bit easier.”

  She looked down at her drink.

  “And I told Gina and Carol that you know” quietly.

  “What did they say?”

  “That it was better to be honest, no reason to keep it a secret, nothing to be ashamed of, all those things.”

  “They’re right. But you know that.”

  “I haven’t told Carol I’m going to tell Nell yet; I feel a bit awkward, I don’t want her thinking it’s because I’m worried she will blab.”

  “Just say now Nell is an adult, working, her own place, you think it’s right that she should know.”

  Beth nodded. “Yes, I will. But I am worried about how she will take it. Nell, I mean.”

  “She’s bound to be shocked and upset. She loves you and will be hurt for you. But she’s a sensible girl, she’ll be alright.”

  “I hope so” unconvinced. “Still, at least it will make her realise why I resist all her matchmaking efforts and she might stop.”

  Tom’s eyebrows raised in query.

  “She always wants me to get out more, join social groups, meet people, by which she means men. She never believes me when I say I’m perfectly happy as I am” she explained. “When she was growing up she and her friends used to try and match make me with their divorced Dads” a grin. “Some of their efforts weren’t very subtle! So at least it will make her realise why I’ve always resisted. And when she asks about old boyfriends, that sort of thing, it’s difficult, so it will stop all of that. I don’t like lying to her.” She fell silent.

  Tom looked at her.

  “What do you say when she asks?”

  Beth shrugged. “I just say there was never anyone serious, I never met anyone special.”

  “And did you tell boyfriends about ...about what happened?”

  She looked at him, a surprised look in her beautiful green eyes.

  “But there weren’t
any. How could there be? That’s what I meant about lying. I made up a few boyfriends, was vague about them. But I hate being dishonest, having to remember what I said, keeping secrets from her, so actually it will be a relief to tell her the truth.”

  Tom was amazed. “You never went out with anyone? Had no boyfriends, relationships?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Put his glass down and leaned forward.

  She shook her head. “I did go out with a couple of boys, well, three, in my teens. Just the one date with each of them. But it was never going to work, so I never saw them after the first date.”

  He rubbed his forehead to try and clear it. “And did you tell them, what happened I mean?”

  She shook her head. “There was no point. I knew it would never work. As soon as they tried to touch me, kiss me, I panicked, froze, felt faint and sick. Well, you know. I just had to get away from them. I made excuses and they just gave me looks as though I was strange, weird. After those three dates I couldn’t bear the thought of going through it again, and I realised all I had to do was avoid dates, stay single. If I was asked out, I said I already had a boyfriend. It was easy. Easier to say that than have them realise I’m frigid, something wrong with me, be embarrassed and humiliated.”

  “No!” He couldn’t help himself, burst out with the denial. “Beth, no, that’s not right. It wasn’t you, it was him. There was nothing wrong with you. You weren’t much more than a child and he terrified you, hurt you, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. It was him, but he blamed you.” He knew he was repeating himself, saying it badly. But needed to convince her.

  Beth shrugged.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter if he was right or not. The end result was the same. I couldn’t bear being touched, couldn’t have a physical relationship. And I’ve got used to that, it’s fine.” She felt a sharp stab as she said the last words, knowing they might have been true once but now caused her heart to ache for something that could never be. But he must never, ever know. Or even suspect.

  “But Beth, that means you’ve denied yourself so much; love, romance, children, a home...” his voice faltered.

  She shook her head. “No I haven’t. I’ve got a home, I love my little cottage. And a family in Nell, I’ve brought her up for the past ten years and she’s like a daughter to me. And I’ve got good friends, Charlie. I live in a lovely part of the world with a job I love, no money worries, my health. Lots of people don’t have those things.”

  “But did you never meet someone special, someone you wanted to be with? Fall in love?”

  “No” adamantly. “It could never work so I couldn’t take the risk. I never let myself start to like anyone like that.”

  He didn’t know what to say. Felt so angry and frustrated thinking of the lonely way she had lived, but stifled his feelings, forced himself to breathe slowly and calm down. Wanted desperately to tell her it wasn’t too late, there was still time in her life for love and romance. That there was nothing wrong with her, that she had been misled into thinking there was, scarred emotionally. But knew she wouldn’t believe him. And even if she did, why should he think she would be interested in him, anyway? She saw him as a friend, a neighbour, nothing more. He felt totally helpless; his whole body aching with love for her that would never be returned.

  She must have sensed his unease because she swallowed the last of her drink and stood up. “Anyway, time we left. And like I said, I will tell Nell, as soon as she’s home. Come on Charlie boy, time for home.”

  She got up and carried her glass over to the sink, Tom watching her rigid back under the cotton dress.

  “Thank you for the drink. Are you going tomorrow?” She was trying hard to talk normally, only the paleness of her face showing tension.

  Tom nodded. “Yes. I’ve got a meeting with Ken before the service.” Mentally kicking himself for not knowing the right words to say, or the right actions. He was always so in control, on an even keel, but now he felt so helpless.

  “Okay. Well, see you tomorrow then.” She managed a smile and opened the front door. The sun had almost gone down but the evening was still warm. The breeze had dropped and only small ripples scattered the surface of the pink tinted sea. .

  He watched her walk down the path, Charlie trotting at her side, so independent and self-contained, and his heart ached.

  Chapter 12

  He walked slowly back into the kitchen and poured himself another glass of wine, sitting with it at the kitchen table. Tess gazed up at him with her big soft eyes, cloudy with age. His chest was heavy, he felt helpless and overwhelmed. What was he going to do? How was he ever going to get her to have feelings for him? How did you get someone to fall in love with you? And even if she did, how was he ever going to persuade her to give him a chance to love and care for her? To believe him that there was nothing wrong with her? Trust him? His life had always been planned, organised, had worked out as he wanted. Now he was out of his depth. Had no idea what to do, apart from continue with their friendship and gradually gain her trust. And maybe that friendship would turn to love. He had never felt like this about anyone before, not even Delia, before she had gone off with his best friend. And instead of rejoicing in the greatest happiness in his life, the greatest joy, he felt bleak and useless.

  He didn’t sleep much that night, tossing and turning. He watched the hours ticking by, imagining her lying in her own bed; alone, always alone. Finally, he fell asleep.

  Awoke two hours later needing the toilet, mouth dry, head pounding and heart heavy. For a moment he was dazed, wondering why. Then he remembered and groaned as he swung long legs out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. Ten to six. But he wasn’t going to get any more sleep. Washed and dressed, couldn’t be bothered showering, then went slowly downstairs. He would take Tess for a walk on the beach.

  The sky was a pale blue, still tinged with pink and apricot. A slight breeze blew and wisps of snowy white cloud drifted across. It was going to be a beautiful day.

  He sat on the shingle and gazed out to sea, already boats bobbed over by the island and a ferry steamed across from Portsmouth.

  What to do? He could phone Gina, talk to her about it. She would be calm, rational, she would listen and advise. Or would she? She wouldn’t gossip about Beth, and she wouldn’t tell him what to do. Besides, she had enough to worry her at the moment. And this was between him and Beth. He had to sort it out with her, not through a third party. And he would sort it. What had Gina said when he had asked her if the reasons for Beth’s distance were resolvable? She had said it depended how much he wanted to resolve them. Well, he wanted to resolve them; he had never in his life wanted anything more. Her voice echoed in his head “Then don’t give up.” Staring bleakly at the island across the water, he had a sudden urge to get away for a couple of days, think things through, work out how best to tackle this. And maybe absence would make the heart grow fonder; maybe she would miss him while he was away and begin to have some feelings for him? It was worth a try.

  He stood up and stretched, his head clearer and mind calmer. It would be alright. He wasn’t giving up.

  Gossip and speculation reached fever point again. A strong police presence in the little town; interviews, statements, teams working in the church. It seemed unreal. Beth was questioned again, also Maggie, Carol, Frances and Ali, as the flower arrangers. Mark and the church wardens were questioned several times. Who had access to the church? Were the doors kept locked? Who had keys? Where were the keys kept? Who would know that? On and on and on. Gina looked shattered; her lovely face drawn with worry and exhaustion, another victim of lack of sleep. The fact the murder weapon was found in her arrangement hit her hard and she found it difficult to face people. Carol took matters into her own hands one day, worry about Gina making her reckless. She text Beth on the Wednesday evening to ask her to go round on the Thursday afternoon, for coffee and a chat, mutual support, as she put it. Now her health scare was over and Ken’s agency in the clear, she could w
orry about others and support them, something she was very good at.

  Beth arrived a few minutes late and walked into the conservatory to see Ali, Francis, Gina and Grace already seated. She looked at Gina enquiringly and the other woman shrugged. The only seat left was next to Ali so Beth sank down next to her, smiling.

  Carol came in, carrying a tray with glasses and a large jug of pinkish coloured water, bits of fruit and ice cubes floating on the top. “Non-alcoholic cocktails” she announced, setting the tray down on the cane table, next to various bowls of nibbles. “Although the alcohol is over there” nodding to a pine cupboard “if anyone wants to add a little something to theirs.”

  Beth could have done with a large splash of gin but resisted, seeing no one else was taking Carol up on the offer.

  “Now” Carol sat down opposite Beth and Ali, looking around the group, at their curious faces.

  “I thought it might be a good idea to get our heads together, clear the air a bit. See if we can come up with any way that hammer got there.”

  Carol had no problem with speaking plainly, Beth thought with amusement.

  “But, surely that’s a matter for the police?” Grace looked puzzled. “I mean, don’t get me wrong Carol, I’m very grateful you want to help, but they’re investigating, shouldn’t we just leave it to them?”

  Gina and Francis were nodding agreement. Ali didn’t say anything, sitting like a rabbit caught in a car’s headlamps.

  “Yes, of course” Carol nodded. “But we are here all the time, we know who goes in and out of church, we’d notice a stranger going in, poking around. Wouldn’t we?”

  More nods of agreement.

  “And we know it wasn’t there on Tuesday 9th, because Gina did the arrangement that day. But it was there on 26th. So who had anything to do with the arrangement between those two dates? Can we pin it down more?” gazing around.