Murder in the Garden Page 3
‘Sorry, must go! Emergency!’ Kate whisked Armand out of his seat while Ellie was still signalling to the waiter for the bill.
Kate realized she was being rude and dashed back to the table. ‘Look, do you mind, Ellie? So sorry. I'll settle up with you later.’
‘Key!’ said Ellie, extricating one from her handbag and handing it to Armand. ‘I'll pay and follow on, get a cab home.’
Roy seated himself in Armand's chair. ‘No such thing. I'll run you home in a while, Ellie. It would be good to have a chat.’
Ellie tried to switch her mind away from Kate and Armand, into consideration of Roy and his problems. Why did everyone she meet have problems? Well, there it was. People did. Some problems were bigger than others. At the moment Roy's seemed small compared to Kate and Armand's, but still needed to be listened to. She couldn't imagine he'd ever be able to help Kate and Armand with theirs, because he'd not even been as long in the neighbourhood as they had.
She switched. ‘Everything on course for the big move on Saturday?’
Ellie's husband had left her a huge house on the other side of the shops. His aunt had been born in the house and hadn't the slightest intention of moving, although it was far too large for her and needed a lot of work doing to it.
Ellie's ambitious daughter Diana had planned to push her great-aunt into a home so that she herself could pull the house down and develop the site. Ellie had somehow found the courage to oppose Diana, saying she'd never dream of turning Aunt Drusilla out of her home.
Then Roy Bartrick had arrived on the scene, and turned out to be Aunt Drusilla's long-lost illegitimate son. What was more, he was also a respectable and respected architect. Despite hostility from Diana - who thought him a fortune-hunter - Roy had learned first to value and then to love his mother. He'd also proved himself a good friend to Ellie and occasionally asked her to marry him.
Ellie always said no to Roy's offers of marriage. Being fond of a man didn't mean you wanted to marry him … and anyway she was nowhere near ready to marry again.
In recent months Ellie had been forced to learn a great deal more than she wished about builders' regulations and tantrums, since she'd at long last persuaded Aunt Drusilla that changes had to be made to the big house. Thank goodness the project was nearly finished now, but what a job it had been!
The great house had been stripped, remodelled and repainted. Inside, there was new plumbing, central heating and wiring. Aunt Drusilla retained the great reception rooms and two large bedrooms above, with the addition of a new kitchen and two new bathrooms. A connecting door led into what had once been the servants' quarters but was now a separate two-bedroom house with new kitchen and bathroom.
Ellie's dear friend Rose had thankfully moved into these new quarters from her council flat, and enjoyed looking after her new employer and friend. To everyone's surprise, Miss Quicke had taken to Rose, which made life a lot easier for everyone who came into contact with the cantankerous old lady.
The drawings for these conversions, and that of the huge garage with its wooden-floored loft, had of course been done by Roy. Originally it had been planned to make two flats out of the garage space, but Roy had sold his old house in the country and decided to settle in the parish, so he had created a superb modern maisonette and office for himself out of the garage and outbuildings.
Aunt Drusilla was currently developing a large site on the Green, in partnership with Roy. Aunt Drusilla, a wily and wealthy old bird, never backed a loser.
The carpets and curtains had already been fitted in Roy's new quarters, and on Saturday his furniture would be delivered from store, so that he could move in. He'd asked Ellie to help him settle in and Ellie had agreed while saying no to yet another offer of marriage.
As Kate and Armand disappeared, Roy brushed aside Ellie's polite enquiry about moving, and asked if he'd interrupted something important, as Kate seemed to be acting the Tragedy Queen even more than she usually did. Roy was wary of Kate, who was one of the few women who didn't appreciate his charm.
Ellie was happy to tell him what had occurred, while Roy summoned some more coffee for both of them.
Roy whistled. ‘Nasty. Who do the police think it was?’
Ellie shook her head. ‘They want me to make a list of everyone who's lived in that house, but Frank wasn't exactly gregarious. He always said people should mind their own business, and he didn't want me hanging around gossiping when I had more than enough to do at home. Which was true, of course. About my not having time to gossip, I mean.’
Roy leaned back in his chair. ‘I like to know my neighbours and keep on good terms with them. Frank was the opposite of me, for all we were cousins. Do you think we'd have liked one another if we'd ever met?’
Ellie went pink. She didn't think they would have done, no. But she wasn't going to criticize Frank to anyone. He'd been a good husband to her, and she owed everything to him, including the fortune he'd left her in his will.
Roy was amused. ‘My mother talks about him sometimes. She was fond of him, she says, but I think she's much fonder of you, dear Ellie.’
Ellie went even more pink. ‘Well, I'm very fond of her, too.’
‘Yes, she's a nice old trout. I rather like her myself.’
Ellie tried to look scandalized, then gave in and laughed. ‘Oh, you! You know you'd do anything for her.’
‘As I would for you, dear Ellie. Particularly as you've made my move here so easy. Was it you or dear Rose who cleaned my new kitchen and bathroom as soon as the tilers had finished?’
‘We did it together. But Roy, aren't you going to miss the house you had in the country?’
‘I thought I would, but I've discovered rather late in life that I'm a sociable animal and really enjoy living in a community. I put the best of my furniture in store when I sold the old place, and I've had fun buying some modern pieces to go with it. From time to time I've created modern environments for clients, and I'm looking forward to trying a mix-and-match look in my new quarters. Besides -’ he looked away from her and tried to sound off-hand - ‘it makes me feel as if I've really got a family now.’
‘I must warn you that your mother plans to have you over for a special welcome dinner the night you move in. Best bib and tucker, please.’
He groaned. ‘I'd thought I might pop down to the golf club …’
‘That's why I'm warning you. Leave the golf club for another night.’
He pulled a face, then said, ‘Well, I'm glad I saw you this evening, because I happened to see your darling daughter in the Avenue this morning. We've never been on the best of terms, so I was surprised when she took the trouble to cross the road to speak to me. I'd just come out of that estate agents at the end of the shops, you know it? She - er - harangued me at the top of her voice, accusing me of disloyalty …’
Ellie winced. ‘I suppose her boyfriend, Derek Jolley, hoped to get the sale of your new houses on the Green.’
‘The silly thing is, it wasn't anything to do with the new houses that took me to that estate agents. I was only dropping off some stuff for my mother, concerning the flats she owns down by the river.’
Ellie waited. He still wasn't meeting her eye, so there was more to come.
‘Diana seemed angry …’
‘She's always angry,’ Ellie said, more to herself than to Roy.
‘She ordered me to give the Close development to Derek to sell. I told her we'd already made arrangements with a big estate agents near the tube station, which didn't improve her temper. She said … various things which I won't repeat.’
Ellie sighed. ‘I wonder what's happening there. Usually she's on to me two or three times a week, but I've just realized I haven't heard from her for a while. Oh, she dumps little Frank on me at weekends, but she hasn't stayed for a chat recently, or even pestered me to put money into that big house she's doing up.’
Roy was looking down into his cup of coffee, which was empty. ‘I wondered if she was, perhaps, not well?’
Roy was pouring himself some more coffee, but Ellie refused another cup. She'd never sleep tonight if she drank more than one cup of coffee so late in the evening.
Ellie thought it highly unlikely that Derek Jolley would want to marry Diana. Why should he? He was getting a decorative mistress for nothing at the moment. Her little boy lived with her husband Stewart and his girlfriend during the week, and Diana only had him at weekends when Derek was out and about, selling houses. And most of the time at weekends, Frank was dumped on Ellie, anyway.
Would Derek even want her to have his child? One could never be sure what men would do in such circumstances, but … probably not.
Ellie did not want to think about it.
‘Well, Roy. The last time I was over at your new place, the carpets were being laid, but there were no curtains or blinds up. Are you leaving those till you're in?’
‘Workmen! I added a couple of weeks to my original schedule, knowing what they're like, but even so, the carpenters only finished on Monday. Curtains and blinds are supposed to be delivered and hung tomorrow. Rose is going to let them in. You are going to be able to help me settle in on Saturday still? No other calls on your time? I know you, someone's in trouble and you drop everything to help them.’
‘I promise I won't let anything else distract me.’ Not even finding a body in the garden next door, which was nothing to do with her, anyway. ‘I'll be there bright and early to help, and maybe Rose will come across to lend a hand - and I'm sure Aunt Drusilla will come to inspect your furniture …’
He laughed. ‘She's promised to give me some of the family china, provided I keep it behind glass and get Rose to wash it up every time I use it. I told her I'd be honoured, but a large pottery mug suits me best. Which gave her an opportunity to tell me I've no taste!’
The bill came and she paid it. Roy helped her into her jacket, and took her home.
Three
Thursday morning brought nothing by way of consolation. Ellie got dressed in a hurry, wanting to be downstairs before her guests. She had a feeling the day was going to be difficult, so she asked for a little extra help, please Lord, and a good dollop of patience to help her cope.
Kate went off early - luckily nothing in her car had been disturbed while they were out at the Carvery. Armand didn't want to leave his house in the hands of the police but he was due at school, so Ellie managed to soothe him off to work … leaving her to clear up the house, make a shopping list, and refuse to think about the activity in the garden next door.
At intervals she tried to remember the names of people who'd lived there, but didn't get very far. When she concentrated certain faces came to mind, but she couldn't get them in any proper order. A woman with dyed blonde hair, who never spoke but always shouted? No, wait a minute … wasn't that the one Ellie'd nicknamed the Shrieker? A plumpish man, very quiet and pale. Ah, she could remember him better. But what was his name?
She couldn't really give the police a list which read:
A middle-aged man and his wife, can't remember their first names. Surname Chater (Kate says it's Chater, and I think she's probably right). No children. Noisy parties which used to drive Frank scatty. No idea when they left, but think it was midsummer, some years ago. They went to live in Spain, I think.
A woman with two children and an African boyfriend who went back to Nigeria.
A refugee family (Bosnian?), housed by the council on behalf of the Chaters, who still owned the house but lived abroad. The father used to come round and ask me to light his boiler when it went out, but Frank told them to get a builder in.
A nice man with a ginger wig, and his wife who married someone else and went to Australia or New Zealand.
An elderly couple. He died and she broke her hip and died.
A tramp? Someone who strayed into the garden after having too much to drink, and died there?
Ellie liked the idea of the tramp best of all and gave it a couple of stars.
She looked at the list in despair. The police would want names and dates and she hadn't got any. Her mind had never coped well with dates or indeed with figures in general. That was one of the things which had made Frank treat her as if she were a secondclass citizen. Well, not that, precisely. But he'd always been clever with figures and he hadn't perhaps quite understood that people had different skills.
She knew of people who could carry whole lists of telephone numbers in their heads, who never needed to take address books away with them when they went on holiday and needed to send picture postcards to their friends.
She could normally add up columns of figures and keep household accounts. It wasn't that she was illiterate or innumerate. She could spell much better than most, but she could not retain numbers in her head.
She could remember - if she concentrated - the year in which she got married, which was … nineteen seventy-three. Diana had been born eighteen months later, in nineteen seventy-four. Diana was now thirty, nearly thirty-one years old, and little Frank was nearly two.
When she'd met Frank - at the tennis club - Ellie's mother had just died, making her an orphan, since her father had died when Ellie was a child. Frank was also an orphan, having been brought up by his Aunt Drusilla. Frank had had a good job but no savings, so Frank and Ellie had sold her mother's flat and used the money for a deposit on their present house. They'd been hard up in those early years, not even being able to afford a car or central heating, because they'd also been supporting Frank's Aunt Drusilla, who'd fooled everyone into believing she was vicarage poor.
Even now the thought of how she'd scrimped and saved and run around after Miss Quicke made Ellie grind her teeth. Perhaps if she hadn't had to work so hard, she wouldn't have suffered all those miscarriages after Diana was born, wouldn't have been so tired all the time, would have had more time to think about herself. Think for herself.
But there it was, Ellie had done typing at home till Diana went to school, and had then gone out to work as a shorthand typist in various local businesses to help pay the mortgage and supply treats for Aunt Drusilla, until she'd become something of an automaton; going to work, shopping, returning; providing homecooked food and clean clothes.
She'd cleaned the house, looked after the garden; polished Frank's shoes, found his pocketbook, his car keys … pandered to Diana's every whim, walked her to and from school, to dancing classes, to friends' houses for tea, made and mended clothes (Ellie's), bought clothes (Frank's and Diana's), took Diana to have her hair cut, cut and washed her own … ordered a taxi to take Aunt Drusilla to the dentist's, the chiropodist's, the hairdressers. Sat with her. Did her shopping. Made her aunt's tea as she liked it, scrubbed out the larder for her when the cleaner hadn't done it properly …
She'd lived in a state of exhaustion. When she'd gone to church she'd leaned against a pillar and dozed off, soothed and relaxed for an hour. When she got into the back of the car after they'd managed to buy one - Diana had always sat at the front - she dozed off again.
She'd never learned to drive, because Frank had said she would never be able to cope. Perhaps he'd been right about that, since she certainly felt too timid to take a car out on the busy London roads nowadays. She'd taken some driving lessons, but had given up when the driving instructor told her she was wasting her time. Perhaps she ought to have tried harder?
Neighbours? Yes, she'd noticed them come and go over the years. Sometimes she'd stopped a
nd smiled at someone new, passed the time of day. But Frank hadn't wanted her to get involved with other people, especially with those next door. On the whole she'd agreed with him. She simply didn't have the time or the energy.
Even after Frank began to do well and they were able to do without her wages, she was kept busy as a volunteer in the charity shop in the Avenue. She'd made some good friends at the charity shop including dear Rose, which had turned out to be a major blessing when Rose took on the task of looking after Aunt Drusilla.
It was only after Frank had died that Ellie'd really become aware of Kate and Armand next door to her. She knew lots of other people in the community slightly, if not well. The last vicar and his wife had become great friends of hers, and had coaxed her into joining the choir, so she knew more people in the neighbourhood now than she ever had done while Frank was alive.
But names and dates … oh dear.
The phone rang: the imposing Mrs Dawes, she of the jet-black hair and earrings, had just finished giving her flower-arranging class in the church hall, and wondered if she might drop round to have a word with Ellie about Sunday. Ellie translated this as: Mrs Dawes had a good enough reason to call on Ellie on church business, but was really hoping to pump her about the police presence next door to her.
‘Why not?’ said Ellie. ‘Perhaps you can help me out, as well. You know how stupid I am about names and dates. The police want a list of everyone who's ever lived next door. You always know everyone hereabouts. Perhaps together we might-?’
‘Of course, my dear. Five minutes. Put the kettle on.’
Ellie grinned. Knowing Mrs Dawes, she put the sherry bottle and a couple of glasses out in the conservatory instead.
Mrs Dawes was wearing a navy-blue tricel blouse with selfembroidery on the collar, over a pleated skirt which could have done with a better underskirt, as it didn't hang well over her ample frame. She was, as usual, carrying an enormous tote bag containing all the tools of her flower-arranging trade. Mrs Dawes was a well-known judge at flower shows in Middlesex and the west of London.