A Move to Murder: A Bride's Bay Mystery Read online

  Frances spoke up. “I checked the flowers the week after the funeral, that would be the 19th? I only topped up the water, the flowers were fine, but I would swear they hadn’t been touched since Gina arranged them.”

  “But you didn’t need to move any? So you wouldn’t necessarily have seen anything under the oasis?”

  Frances shook her head. “No. In fact you wouldn’t see anything anyway under the oasis unless you pulled it all out completely. Even if you change the flowers, you just pull the dead ones out and push the new ones in.”

  Beth nodded agreement. “Yes, that’s right. I only found it because the flowers wouldn’t go in properly and kept breaking.” A guilty look at Frances, anticipating a reprimand.

  “Okay. So, it wasn’t there on 19th but it was on 26th. So we’re narrowing it down.”

  “Haven’t the police already asked all of this?” Grace, trying not to sound negative but feeling it would all have been gone into already.

  The women looked at each other.

  “They asked when I did the arrangement” said Gina.

  “And they obviously know when I found the hammer” Beth added.

  “Frances, did they know you checked them on the Friday before?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so. They didn’t mention checking any of them at all.”

  “So they don’t know the dates we do” Carol said slowly. “We ought to tell them?” looking around.

  Everyone nodded. “Well, Ken and I will do that. But did any of us see anyone else in the church when we were doing flowers that week?”

  They were all certain they hadn’t. Ali spoke for the first time.

  “But Carol, it could have been any time that week. The service on Sunday, during coffee after, or anytime when the church is open, which is almost every day.”

  “I know” Carol admitted defeat. “I just thought someone might have seen something, or someone.”

  “It was a good idea.” Grace smiled at the disappointed looking woman. “But so many people go in and out, and so many have stopped to admire the arrangements.”

  “But it would have taken time to take all the flowers out” said Gina slowly. “Then put the oasis back with the flowers in the same arrangement.”

  “Couldn’t they have just picked up the whole piece of oasis?” asked Grace.

  “I don’t think so. The flowers would all fall around, even fall out.” Gina commented. “Beth, did the arrangement look any different on the 26th?”

  Beth shook her head. “No, it still looked perfect, just a few flowers that had gone over.”

  No one could think of anything else and Carol topped up the glasses. “Well, all we’ve managed to do is reduce the time to that week” she sighed. “But thank you all for coming. And you’re right, Grace. Let’s just hope and pray the police solve it soon.”

  Ali, Grace and Frances all left together but Carol gestured to Beth and Gina to stay seated.

  She escorted the three round the side of the house to the front then returned and sank down in her chair again.

  “Well, that was a waste of time. I’m adding rum to my punch. Anyone else?”

  Gina shook her head but Beth nodded and held out her glass.

  “Still, I hope it’s cleared the air a bit and they’re a bit easier on you now, Gina.”

  “Well, it’s only really Frances. Poor Ali doesn’t say anything. But Frances looks at me as though I must have put it there as I did the arrangement.”

  “She always looks disapproving. I feel guilty every time she looks at me, I’m always sure I’ve made some sort of flower arranging faux pas.” Beth swigged at the large glass of punch and sighed. “That’s better.”

  Carol looked at her curiously. “Not like you to hit the bottle, Beth. Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. Just tired. School’s busy, the shops are busy, this hanging over us. It’s enough to turn anyone to drink.” Beth kept her voice light. She had no intention of telling her friends about the scene with Tom, the scenes plural, come to that. She knew they would both listen sympathetically, upset for her, understanding her reasoning. They wouldn’t offer advice; well, Carol might. But Beth didn’t want advice. Neither woman could fully understand her difficulty, although Gina would probably come the closest. And they would both be so pleased for her; Carol who wanted to see everyone as happily married as she was herself and Gina, who was aware of how Beth felt about him. But Beth didn’t want them trying to persuade her it could end well; it couldn’t, and that was that.

  She hadn’t spoken to Tom since the Saturday evening. He had been at church on Sunday but had left without staying for coffee and had text in the afternoon to say he was going to be away for a few days. She was relieved and devastated at the same time. Her head told her this was the way it had to be and to stop thinking about him. But her heart ached for him and she cried for what could never be.

  One person who was looking happier these days was Barbara Salmon. Beth called in for some chops on the way home from Carol’s and was surprised and relieved to see the pretty woman bustling about and smiling.

  “Beth, nice to see you. How are you?” Beth smiled, stated she was fine. Lied. She was getting good at this.

  “You’re looking good Barbara. Things a bit better?” Cautiously, not wanting to pry.

  But Barbara beamed back at her. “Oh Beth, yes, you wouldn’t believe. They say it’s an ill wind...”

  Beth looked at her enquiringly.

  “Robert and Matthew. Robert was so relieved when it came out James Lamb had nothing to do with the burglaries, or those lads who work with him. He met James and they had a long talk about Matthew. James told him he thought he should let Matthew have a go at an apprenticeship as a builder, just for a year, see how it goes. He said Matthew would probably hate working out in all weathers, early starts, and low pay. And if he did hate it, he could leave, whenever he wanted. Robert saw the sense in that. He still wants him to work in the business, but has agreed he can give the building a try after his exams, see how it goes.”

  “Oh Barbara, that’s wonderful. What does Matthew say?”

  “He’s over the moon. Says he’ll work so hard, make a go of it, it will all work out. I told him, Dad’s meeting you half way here; letting you have a go, don’t go in all guns blazing that you will never be a butcher. Go along with him that you’re just trying it, for a year. If it is what he wants to do for ever, then hopefully after a year Robert will accept that.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “And Hannah has made Robert’s day. Thinks if Matthew isn’t going to work for him, maybe she will, then the business will be hers one day and she’ll make a fortune. Says she won’t have to do any butchering, just pay others to do it.”

  Beth laughed. “That’s one feisty girl you’ve got there!”

  Barbara smiled. “Wonder who she gets that from?”

  The charity shop was busy again the next day but Gina and Beth spent most of their time pricing up in the back room. Beth was aware of Gina looking at her curiously from time to time. Consequently she chattered on most of the afternoon, about school, about Nell, about Charlie, anything to prevent her friend from bringing up subjects she didn’t want to discuss. But Gina knew from the one subject that was omitted from Beth’s prattle that something was amiss and brought it up herself.

  “I haven’t seen Tom this week. Is he alright?”

  “He’s gone away for a few days, but I don’t know where or when he’ll be back.”

  A stab of pain. How she missed him, and how she had no right to, she thought bleakly.

  But walking back along the seafront later that afternoon, her stomach lurched as she saw the dark grey estate parked on his drive. Just keep busy, she told herself, keep busy and don’t think.

  Flower arranging was on Beth’s mind the next morning, as soon as she woke and realised it was Friday. Fortunately four years olds were not party to the thoughts going through their nursery nurse’s head, and she was distracted
by their demands and actions. Now and then the memory of pulling that plastic bag, heavy and blood soaked inside, crashed into her head. She really didn’t want to go back into the church that afternoon, see the pedestal, recall its gruesome contents. But Grace had phoned the night before, asking if she and Carol would like to go round for a cup of tea after flower arranging. Just concentrate on that.

  But in the event it was alright. Frances was already there and was standing beside three empty pedestals, bare black metal supports and shiny black tops.

  “I thought we needed a fresh start” nodding towards them. “I’ve cleared them all out, given them a good wash and polish. The oasis is soaking. I’ve brought all fresh flowers” pointing to a table nearby, covered in bright blooms, fresh green foliage. I hope Gina doesn’t mind though, I did her arrangement as well?”

  As usual the woman’s speech was staccato, her actions jerky. But there was a question in her voice when she mentioned Gina’s arrangements and Beth felt a flood of warmth for the woman. She usually rode rough shod over anyone’s feelings. And it had been thoughtful, to remove all traces of last week’s nightmare and have a fresh start.

  Beth shook her head. “Of course she won’t mind. And what beautiful flowers” looking at the piles of stocks, pinks, aquilegias, alliums, choisya, lilies, ivy and ferns.

  Frances looked gratified. “Well, quite a lot are from Tom’s garden. I bought the lilies but the rest are from mine, I grew the aquilegias from seed.”

  “Oh Frances!” Beth clapped her hand to her head. “I’ve got a load of yoghurt pots for you. I took a lot into school today for the children but I kept a pile behind for you, I meant to bring them.”

  Beth had two boxes of recycling in her garden shed; one collected by the council weekly, the other she recycled herself, to school for junk modelling, to a friend collecting bottle tops for guide dogs and to Frances, yoghurt pots for the woman to use for her seedlings.

  “It doesn’t matter, bring them on Sunday” turning away as Gina and Carol walked through the door. “Gina, I hope you don’t mind....”

  The afternoon passed peacefully. By four o’clock the church boasted new arrangements in blues, purples and white by the altar, by the font and in the Lady Chapel.

  Frances stood back, a pleased expression on her face. “There. Can’t beat fresh flowers.”

  Carol agreed. “Do you know, St Andrew’s in Ramsfield have started using faux flowers? Say it’s so much cheaper. And they don’t have the man power to do fresh flowers every week. They just use fresh for celebrations, special occasions.”

  Frances sniffed. “That will never happen here.”

  Gina and Beth exchanged a smile. How true, while Frances was around.

  Carol caught Beth’s and Gina’s arms as they walked out into the sunshine, blinking after the gloom of the church.

  “Are you both coming to Grace’s for a cup of tea?”

  Gina shook her head. “I can’t. I told her I’d have liked to but Robert is phoning in a bit. He and Emma are off to New York for a few days tomorrow, they’ve got to be at the airport at some unearthly hour so they’re staying the night there. He’s phoning before they set off to the hotel.”

  “Aaah” Carol looked pleased. “That’s nice. Is it serious then, him and Emma, do you think?” hopefully.

  Gina laughed. “Carol, they’re going on holiday for a few days. That’s all.”

  “There are nice jewellery shops in new York.” Carol wasn’t giving up.

  “I’m sure there are. Maybe he’ll bring me a nice piece back?” deliberately misunderstanding.

  Beth laughed. “Give up Carol. Perhaps Nell and Robert will settle down one day, provide us with babies to dote on, but for now we make do with yours!”

  And they did. Carol’s grandchildren, three year old Florence and ten month old Noah were gorgeous and Beth and Gina had seen them regularly since they had been born, enjoying watching them grow up; Florence, serious, dark eyed, dark haired, like her father; Noah, a blue eyed red head into everything, as his mother had been, according to his proud granny.

  She and Carol walked down the road, crossing over to Melissa’s house, Grace’s now, for a while. Grace opened the door to them, welcoming them in.

  “Come in, come in. Glad you could make it. Let’s go through to the kitchen. Or the garden?”

  “The garden” Carol said promptly. “Let’s make the most of the weather. It could be raining tomorrow.”

  She and Beth wandered around the garden then settled down at a small table on the patio.

  Grace had placed a tea tray with cups and saucers, milk jug and teapot on it.

  A moment later she reappeared with a plate containing a luscious looking coffee and walnut cake.

  “Now” she started pouring tea. “How are you two?”

  “We’re fine. But what about you? How are you? Any developments?”

  No small chat first for Carol, thought Beth in amusement, straight to the nitty gritty.

  Grace shook her head. “Not as far as I know. They still don’t know if it was a bungled burglary, poor Melissa disturbing them and getting.... well, you know. Or if it was deliberate.”

  Carol looked shocked. “You mean, they meant to kill her, it was planned?”

  Beth was as stunned as her friend.

  Grace shrugged. “The hammer. It could be it was taken to use to break in with, though they didn’t force their way in, a key had been used. So why take a hammer to break in when you have a key? So another thought is they took it with them intending to...” her voice faltered “and I keep saying “them”, but the police have no idea if it was a gang, or one person. Nothing was found, not even a hair. They’d cleaned up after themselves thoroughly.”

  “How did they have a key?” Beth asked.

  “It was a spare one, kept under a loose brick on the wall; you know the wall with the steps leading to the lawn?”

  “So someone would have to have known it was kept there.” Beth felt sick. “That means someone local.”

  “Did you know the Thomson’s kept a spare key there?” Carol asked Beth.

  Beth shook her head.

  “Nor did I.”

  “Well, someone did. But as I say, they don’t know whether it was used to gain entry for robbery or...not. The fact Melissa was out that evening suggests they thought the house would be empty so maybe she did come back earlier than they thought and disturbed them.... but that still doesn’t really explain the hammer. And they could have just run off, no need to...”

  She gulped and picked up her cup, took a swallow to collect herself.

  “So now the police just keep asking if she had any enemies, anyone with a grudge. They’re going into everyone in her past, Neville, ex boyfriends, but I can’t think of anyone who disliked her.”

  She looked up at the two women. “She was lovely, inside and out. No one ever had any cause to hate her enough to want to... sorry.”

  Carol patted her hand. “We know. She endeared herself to everyone here the moment she arrived.”

  Well, not quite, thought Beth, remembering Ali’s white face when she had seen Julian gazing after Melissa. And Maggie had made a few comments about the amount of Mark’s time she took up. The scene in the church kitchen flashed through her head. Even Carol had complained to her once that Melissa was always in Ken’s office, asking about property to buy in the area if she decided to settle there when her lease was up. But resenting her effect on men was one thing, jealous at the attention she received, but no one would murder her because of it. Would they? With a lurch of her stomach Beth thought of the rumour that had been circulating in the charity shop that week. Ali had gone to stay with her sister for a while, needed a break after all the events. Ali was known to be highly strung, nervous, so it wasn’t surprising. But Julian had also disappeared, the gallery was closed, blinds pulled down. Rose Evans had said he was selling it, though if he was; it wasn’t through Ken’s agency. Could Ali have been driven to attacking Melissa, ov
ercome by jealousy, anger? No, no, ridiculous. Leave it to the police. She felt ashamed of herself for even thinking about her friends and neighbours like that.

  Grace also probably wanted to change the subject and Beth asked her about her plans.

  “I’m going to stay for now. The police said I could use the studio again so I’ve cleared Melissa’s art things out, into a spare bedroom and closed the door on them, for now. I’ve bought a sofa and some chairs and stuff and made it back into a living room. I’ll show you in a bit. Mark and some friends of his have helped; they pulled up the vinyl and got rid of it” a shiver. “It’s still a bit bare in there and I don’t use it much. But I like it here, I can work here. I’m making a bedroom into a dark room and will think about some work, sometime.”

  Her voice trailed off.

  “So I plan to stay for a couple of months and think what I want to do. I might go back to London, but I’m a bit tired of the noise and crowds there, and I can get there easily from here when I need to. And I’ve enjoyed being by the sea, in a small place. So who knows?” a shrug and a smile.

  “Well, if you decide to stay, we will all be very pleased. But in the meantime, anything you need, you know where we are. And if you are looking for things to do...”

  “Carol” warned Beth. “I know, I’m just saying” indignantly “and sometimes it’s better to keep busy.”

  Conversation became more general and at last Beth and Carol stood up to leave.

  “Come and look at the living room before you go.”

  Grace carried the tea things back into the kitchen then led the way down the hall and into the old studio.

  “Grace! This is lovely!” Beth looked around in delight.

  Grace evidently had the same talent for style as Melissa had shown. The living room was now cosy and welcoming. A large duck egg blue sofa stood on the parquet floor together with two wingback chairs in a cream, taupe and duck egg blue tartan, arranged around a large, low oak coffee table. A console table stood against the wall with a vase of flowers on it and piles of magazines. A small light oak table and four chairs stood in the middle of the other end of the room. Billowing cream curtains framed the windows. There were no pictures or ornaments but Grace had placed a large vase of roses on the table and photographs on the fireplaces. Beth walked over to look at them. They were all Grace’s own work; a couple of landscapes, a seascape and a photo of a floral arrangement. Beth looked closer. “That’s the one Gina did for Melissa’s funeral, isn’t it?” Grace walked over to stand beside her, nodded. “Yes, I loved it. And Melissa would have too. It seemed right to have it in here.”