Murder at the Altar Page 20

  ‘So there was a bit of a bust-up. Donna and Anita for once were in agreement with one another. Rose cried. We had to shut the shop up at lunchtime, there was such an uproar. On a Friday, too. People were banging on the door, wanting to come in. But once you start winding up people like Madam, well … things were said. Anita, in particular. You know how rude she can be when she tries. She told Madam that the only person who didn’t pull her weight was Madam herself. She said everyone wanted Madam out and …’

  Ellie put her hand over John’s. ‘I get the picture. Madam couldn’t face the idea that I might be more popular than her in the shop, and so she took the opportunity to get rid of me. Well, I admit I was upset at the time, but now—’

  ‘Hear me out. When she told us on Saturday that you weren’t coming back, Anita left, and so did Rose. Madam was livid. Apparently she’d lined up some old friend of hers to take your place, but she hadn’t counted on two others leaving. I told her straight, “Get Ellie back, or you’ll have no one left to staff the shop.” And that included me!’

  ‘Dear John, that’s awful. You can’t go. As for me, I’ve been thinking hard about the shop all weekend and I honestly do feel that Madam is right. I haven’t been pulling my weight recently and at the moment I haven’t the slightest desire to come back. Oh, I know what you’ll say. That I’m suffering from false pride and yes, the way she sacked me did hurt, but in a way it’s a relief. One less thing to think about. There’s so much going on, I have so many adjustments to make … heavens above! I forgot! My new bed is being delivered this afternoon and I must be there to let the men in! Oh dear, and I was going to indulge myself with a dessert, too! Never mind. Another day. Chloe dear, can I have the bill? And if your young man could see his way to calling on me, I’d be grateful. What’s his name, by the way?’

  ‘Bob,’ said Chloe, busily writing out the bill and taking money. ‘I’ve known him on and off all my life. Didn’t think of him that way at first, he’s older, you see, been around a bit. But he fixed on me and kept coming back and back at me, asking me out. So I said I would if he got himself a decent job and now he’s really keen on it, wants to do all these courses and that. I’m not so happy about his being with the police, myself. There’s a lot of violence out there, isn’t there? But I can’t go back on my word, can I? And I quite like him, you know, that way …’

  Ellie and John exchanged fleeting glances, trying not to laugh. Then Ellie did a double-take. ‘Chloe, he’s not Ferdy’s schoolfriend Bob, is he? The one that used to go out with Joyce McNally?’

  ‘S’right. And others. Chasing butterflies, he called it. He can be quite poetic when he likes. Surprised me that, him being so soft inside. Mind you, it’s easier for a woman if the man is a bit soft inside … so long as nobody else knows about it.’

  Ellie tried to unravel this. ‘Now you two were in church yesterday because he wants to put up the banns, or because he wanted to see where his friend had been killed?’

  Chloe looked horrified. ‘Banns? Over my dead body. All that sort of thing went out with my mother’s generation. No, he had some idea about soaking up the atmosphere. Been reading too much detective fiction, if you ask me. Said the murderer might be in church and show some guilty feeling.’

  She shrugged. ‘Load of baloney, I thought. What he really meant was that he was really upset over Ferdy, couldn’t get it out of his mind. Well, it’s been on my mind too. A lot. So he said we both needed to go. Make our peace, sort of. He said he’d seen photos and all, but he wanted to see it properly. Ferdy was part of our lives for so long. I understood.’

  ‘Wait a minute. Have I got this right? Did you go out with Ferdy too, at one time?’

  ‘Sure. Who didn’t? But not serious like, just in passing, doing my butterfly bit, you could say. Then Ferdy introduced me to Bob one night in the pub and as I said, he got a fix on me, and didn’t let me alone till I said I’d go out with him.’

  John was curious. ‘You see him as husband material?’

  Chloe laughed. ‘I’m not thinking along those lines for quite a few years. Mrs Quicke, if you’ve got to go I’ll tell him to call round, but it might be after he comes off shift. They’re going mad, trying to find that Kate that ran off after the murder. They’ve got people watching the airports and the stations and Eurostar and everything, but there’s been no sign of her yet. Of course, it’s only a matter of time till the money runs out and they’ll get her in the end.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Ellie, gathering her things together. ‘I’m getting into deep waters. I’m going to have to confess all, I can see it. Don’t look so shocked, John. I don’t mean that I’m involved, but … well, I’ll explain later.’

  Putting up her umbrella against the rain which was still pelting down, she hovered on the kerb, wondering if she had time to pop over to the bakery to get some fresh bread, or whether she really ought to get straight back home … and was just going to cross when someone hailed her from under an umbrella which had certainly seen better days.

  ‘Ellie! Oh, look out!’

  Ellie stepped back just as a big dark-green car came slashing through the traffic and drove across the pavement exactly where she had been standing … spraying Ellie with surface water … and then roared off down the Avenue.

  Ellie screamed. It wasn’t a very big scream, but she had been badly frightened.

  ‘What did he think he was doing!’ demanded Rose McNally, looking out from under her umbrella exactly like the dormouse from under the teapot lid. ‘You could have been killed!’

  Ellie told herself to calm down. ‘He was probably on his mobile phone, and didn’t see how close to the kerb he was. Thanks for warning me, Rose. I was just about to step off into the road. He came from nowhere! Did you get his number? We ought to report him.’

  ‘I’d know that car anywhere, because my Joyce’s boss has one just like it. It’s one of them German makes. A Saab, that’s it. But the licence plate was all muddy, so that’s no help. Are you really all right, Ellie?’

  ‘Wet through. I’ll have to change everything when I get back home.’

  ‘Oh, I was hoping … but I won’t keep you, then.’ Rose was obviously dying to talk.

  ‘Look, Rose, I’ve got something being delivered this afternoon. Are you free? Would you like to drop round later? The only thing is, I’ve no fresh bread, and I’m late already. You couldn’t possibly get me a loaf of bread, a bloomer, not sliced white, and some cakes? Bring them round to my place and we can have a good long chat together?’

  Rose lit up with relief. ‘Love to. My treat.’

  ‘No, mine.’ Ellie thrust some coins into Rose’s hand and, cursing the wet coat which clung around her legs, made her way home as fast as she could. Hoping that the delivery men had not yet called … and that Mr Jolley had removed his For Sale sign.

  Only to find a taxi parked outside her gate, with the meter ticking over. Aunt Drusilla, as large as life, and twice as threatening.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Ellie. I’ve been waiting for you for ages. Will you pay the man, please? I can’t possibly afford the extortionate amount he wishes to charge.’

  The errand boy was on the phone, shaking with fury. ‘Yeah, some old bint just pulled her out of the way just as I was driving straight at her. As close as that! Nah, she didn’t see nothing, what with the rain, and anyways, the number plate’s been properly muddied. She’s back home now. Another visitor, arrived in a taxi. Looks like the same old cow who came the other night. What would you like me to do now?’

  15

  Out of habit Ellie reached for her purse to pay Aunt Drusilla’s taxi fare and realized that she had only a few coins left. She hadn’t been to the bank for ages. She’d shopped almost daily, paid for her lunch and John’s, and given her last few pound coins to Rose.

  Aunt Drusilla was getting out of the taxi in anticipation that the slave would do as she was told, as usual. Upright, bony, Weatheralled, unfurling a closely wrapped man’s black umbrella, and support
ing herself with a silver-knobbed cane which could occasionally be used to rap knuckles with. An outsize and ancient handbag of crocodile skin which from experience Ellie knew contained everything bar the kitchen sink – and cash.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Aunt Drusilla,’ said Ellie, trying to look sorry while concealing a desire to giggle. ‘I don’t seem to have any money on me.’

  Aunt Drusilla didn’t like being kept waiting in the rain. She was also astounded to hear Ellie declare she had no money. ‘Then how do you expect the man to be paid?’

  ‘Perhaps you’d better ask him to drive you round to the bank, so that you can draw some money out to pay him?’

  ‘Now look ’ere!’ The burly driver was not amused.

  Neither was Aunt Drusilla. ‘Ellie, I cannot believe that you have no money. Hurry up, I’m getting wet!’

  Ellie pulled out her purse and wallet and showed their state of play. Aunt Drusilla was affronted. She started down the path to the house, ignoring the taxi. ‘Then fetch some from indoors.’

  ‘We don’t keep cash in the house.’

  ‘Yes, you do. In the bureau.’

  Ellie smiled, grimly. ‘We used to when Frank was alive, but there’s none there now. I’m afraid you will just have to find some cash yourself.’

  Aunt Drusilla reached the porch and shook out her umbrella. She pushed at the front door, which of course failed to open. With hands shaking from fury, she delved into her bag, extracted some money and gestured to Ellie to take it to the taxi driver.

  ‘Don’t give him a tip. He’s an exceedingly rude man!’

  Ellie and the taxi driver exchanged rueful glances. The amount on the clock was very nearly the whole of the ten-pound note. ‘Sorry,’ said Ellie. ‘I really haven’t any money today.’

  Resignedly, he drove off as the furniture van drove up with Ellie’s new bed in it. Letting Aunt Drusilla into the house, Ellie supervised the delivery of her new bed and bedding, and the removal of the old one. Her bedroom looked surprisingly spacious now but the carpet was a much stronger colour where the old bed had covered it. Perhaps she should be daring and get a new carpet, too. And new curtains while she was at it? What luxury!

  She saw the delivery men off and found Aunt Drusilla sitting upright on a chair in the hall.

  ‘Well, help me off with my coat!’ Ellie did so, realizing her own clothes were clinging to her in a most unpleasant manner.

  Ellie ushered Aunt Drusilla into the living-room saying, ‘Excuse me a moment. I’m wet through. Make yourself a cup of tea if you like.’

  She stripped, rubbed herself dry and got into warm, clean, comfortable clothes. Bliss. And Rose would soon be here with cakes for tea. Ellie hoped they’d be cream cakes, the ultimate extravagance on a wet afternoon. Or perhaps pikelets. Or tea-cakes which they could toast and slather with butter.

  In the meantime, she had to face Nemesis. Or Aunt Drusilla. And try to work out some way to help poor Nora get a new lease on her flat. Oh dear. Was there really a tie-up with Diana? If so, had Aunt Drusilla been behind Diana’s putting the house on the market?

  Looking out of the front window, she saw that the For Sale sign had been removed. Well, that was something. Now to face the music.

  ‘About time, too!’ Aunt Drusilla believed in attack. ‘Forcing me to come out in this terrible weather, at my age … and then refusing to pay the taxi fare. What would poor dear Frank have said?’

  The phone rang. Ellie ducked back into the hall to answer it.

  Kate, speaking low. ‘Ellie …? Is that you?’

  Ellie tried to push the door into the living-room shut with her foot, but it was just too far to reach, and Aunt Drusilla had ears like a bat.

  ‘Yes, it’s me. Were you trying to ring before? I’ve been out so much, and now I’m inundated with visitors …’

  ‘You can’t talk freely? You’re not alone?’

  ‘That’s right. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine. Bored with doing nothing, eating three meals a day, looking at telly. Missing work. And Armand. How is he?’

  ‘Missing you, too. Asking for news. Naturally.’

  ‘Is he very angry? I miss him terribly. Is there any news about who killed Ferdy? I keep going over and over it in my mind, but you know I really didn’t see anything that night, either before or after I spoke to him. The police don’t seem to believe me, but … shall I come back?’

  ‘No! I mean, not yet. The police are watching all the ports, Eurostar, everywhere. They’re very one-track, aren’t they? Do you remember Chloe at the café? She’s got a new boyfriend and guess who, it’s your old friend Bob. Would you believe, he’s a policeman now! He’s supposed to be coming round to see me later today. We’ve had a conman going round, pretending to be from the gas board, and I have to register a complaint.’

  Aunt Drusilla had come to stand at Ellie’s elbow, pale eyes sparking with annoyance at the way Ellie was ignoring her. Could she perhaps overhear what was being said on the phone?

  Ellie said hurriedly, ‘Bye, dear. I must go. Got a visitor, as I said. Ring again soon, won’t you? I want to hear all about your holiday.’

  She put the phone down.

  ‘I really don’t know how you can waste time gossiping with friends when you have a guest!’ observed Aunt Drusilla. ‘Now I should like some tea, please. I could fancy a couple of your chocolate biscuits, too.’

  ‘No biscuits, I’m afraid,’ said Ellie, automatically falling into servant mode as she put the kettle on and laid a tray for tea. ‘Someone’s bringing some cakes in later on, though.’

  ‘Can’t you get them to bring them in now?’

  ‘Afraid not.’

  ‘Well!’ Aunt Drusilla stalked back to the living-room. Ellie raised her eyes to the ceiling and counted five. Aunt Drusilla never, ever came to tea without making derogatory remarks about something Ellie had done, or not done. She waited for it.

  ‘You haven’t dusted today.’ Aunt Drusilla held up a dirty finger and wiped it on her handkerchief.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Ellie. ‘Been busy.’ And bit her lip, thinking that she ought not to have apologized.

  ‘Have you indeed!’ said Aunt Drusilla, in tones of suspicion. ‘I thought you were going back up north with Diana. You’re certainly needed up there. Poor Diana was in quite a state the other night when I called to see you. I understand the house is up for sale. Very sensible. But that’s not what I came to talk to you about.’

  Aunt Drusilla smiled. Smiling was difficult for her, and often terrified the beholder. Ellie quailed.

  Aunt Drusilla tapped her handbag. ‘I do realize, Ellie, that you had nothing to do with that most extraordinary will of Frank’s. I admit that at first I thought you might have done, but Mr Weatherspoon assures me that this was not the case. There is only one conclusion that I can come to and that is that Frank’s illness affected his mind. He simply could not have made that will if he had been in his right mind. It has always been understood that the house which has been my home practically all my life, the house in which I was born and in which I intend to die, should be mine for life. There is no way that Frank would not have left it to me, if he had been in his right mind.’

  ‘Mr Weatherspoon insists Frank knew what he was doing.’ Ellie hated herself for sounding so apologetic, but years of kowtowing to Aunt Drusilla had taken their toll. She said, ‘I think it was something to do with the riverside flats you own.’

  Aunt Drusilla gave Ellie a sharp look. ‘I? Own flats? Nonsense.’

  ‘Not according to the enquiry agents’ report.’ Ellie was bluffing, but it seemed her guess had been correct.

  Silence. Aunt Drusilla stared into space. Ellie poured more tea for herself, but didn’t drink it. She wondered where Rose had got to. Come on, Rose! Rescue me!

  Aunt Drusilla inched forward on her chair. ‘I shall contest the will, of course.’

  ‘Then I shall put the family house on the market.’

  A sharp intake of breath. ‘Not even you coul
d be so callous!’

  ‘Talking of callous … why don’t you allow Nora to renew her lease at a reasonable rent?’

  ‘That remark merely proves how ignorant you are of business affairs.’

  ‘And how accomplished a businesswoman are you? Well, perhaps I didn’t know much about these things, but I’m learning fast.’ Ellie was amazed how easy it was to stand up to the old terror, Once she’d started. ‘Frank’s will is sound. He left his estate as he did because he felt you – and Diana – had been greedy. If you fight the will, then I will put your house on the market.’

  Aunt Drusilla looked incandescent with rage. Ellie was reminded of Armand’s similar, but uncontrolled rage. How calm life used to be, she thought. What a whirlwind I’m living in now …

  Aunt Drusilla jerked her head back. ‘And if I don’t contest the will, you leave things as they are?’

  Ellie leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers. She must be careful not to assume that she’d won, but it certainly felt like it. ‘I might. I might not. I might ask you to buy the family house from me. Or I might want to live in it myself. I haven’t decided yet.’

  ‘You? Live in my house? How dare you!’

  Now she’s going to turn on me, Ellie thought, berate me for a failure as wife and mother, tell me I am worthless, et cetera, et cetera. Perhaps she’s right, Ellie thought, numbly. Perhaps I am being selfish and lacking in respect for the older generation … for her.

  The doorbell rang. Rose, thank goodness.

  Ellie got to her feet. ‘I must ask you to go now. I have another visitor.’

  ‘Get rid of her. We haven’t finished this conversation, not by a long chalk.’

  ‘My visitor might be a “he”.’