Weeping on Wednesday lm-3 Read online

  At the second attempt, she had concealed the grave to her satisfaction, and was returning to the mill when she’d caught sight of Bill and Sebastian. Panicking again, she had fled, but when she was finally out of breath, they’d caught her. Long experience of Edward’s lying explanations warned her not mention the dog. ‘Found a dead dog’ could mean much more. Still, they had seemed satisfied with her explanation, though it sounded thin, even to her. She threw the note on the fire. It had been best to do as she was told, even though she had no idea why. Edward had always been like this, giving her orders, never explaining, skipping off when there was trouble and leaving her to face the music. Then he would laugh away her anger and she would forgive him. Always that bond between them. And now, not once did it occur to her that she should tell the police.

  ∨ Weeping on Wednesday ∧

  Twenty-One

  Jamie had woken early on Christmas morning and spent an hour reminding himself that there was no chance Mum and Dad had got him a piano. Too expensive, taking up too much space, and anyway he wouldn’t stick to it. He’d heard this so often that he had believed it himself – almost. But he’d still had a sneaking hope that Mum would know how keen he was, would work on Dad and come up with the impossible. She was good at that. He had tried to stop thinking about it at all, and had fallen asleep again, only to be woken again by shouts from downstairs.

  “Hey! Jamie!” Josie had shouted, and then the whole family had gathered while Jamie tore off the paper and discovered his piano. For a couple of seconds he couldn’t believe it, and just stood and stared.

  “Go on then,” Derek had said. “Give us a tune.”

  Gran had wiped away a tear, and Lois smiled. “Give him time, Dad,” she’d said. “Wait till Enid’s given him some lessons, and then we’ll be hiring Tresham Town Hall for a concert!”

  Now it was Monday again, with Christmas and New Year behind them, and New Brooms staff were sitting in Lois’s office, chatting about the holiday and waiting for the meeting to start. Enid Abraham had been last to arrive, and Bill noticed that she avoided looking at him. She was very pale, with dark shadows under her eyes. But everything else about her was as usual, neat and inconspicuous.

  Lois came in with coffee, and the meeting started. Bill began to wonder if there was trouble afoot. Lois seemed to be giving them only half her attention. Sheila had had to say something twice, and Bridie looked puzzled when Lois’s answer to her question made no sense. Finally, when Hazel Reading said, “You feeling OK, Mrs M?” Bill knew he was right. He heard Derek’s van drive off and saw Lois watch it go, and her expression told him something was wrong between the two of them. But what? They had always seemed to him an example of how successful a marriage could be, in spite of three stroppy kids and a live-in Gran. Ah well, none of his business. He was hoping to have a quiet word with Lois about Enid, but hadn’t quite decided how to put it. He was sure the old thing was up to something, possibly to do with the Charringtons, her neighbours. And that dreary mill, with its overhanging trees and loony mother! He couldn’t think why Lois had hired the woman, when there must have been plenty of normal, cheery candidates for the job.

  “All set, then,” Lois was saying. “Let’s get off to a good start for the New Year. Any problems, anyone?” She didn’t give them much chance to answer, and made it clear that the meeting had ended. All except Bill left the house and went their ways, but he hung back, hoping that inspiration would come if he could delay Lois for a few minutes.

  “Something to say, Bill?” she asked, hovering by the door.

  He nodded. “It’s private, really,” he said. He knew that Enid and Gran had struck up a friendship, and this was for Lois’s ears only.

  “Sit down, then,” said Lois, shutting the door. “I’m in a bit of a dash,” she added, “so make it quick, if you can.”

  “It’s about Enid,” he said.

  “Enid?”

  “Yep.”

  “What about her?”

  Bill was good at keeping to the point. He noticed that Lois suddenly snapped to attention when he mentioned Anna’s dog story. “In the woods, did you say? Near the mill stream? And the body of the dog disappeared?”

  “Yep. Seb thinks Anna made it up. But there were these footprints, and then we found Enid and she was in a great old fluster.”

  “You’re not suggesting Enid killed the dog!” Lois stared at him. Thoughts were whirling round in her head. A body seen, and then disappeared. She remembered with a shiver that night of the storm, the tumbling shape in the stream, the white face against the dam. A body seen, and then disappeared.

  “Dunno,” said Bill. “I just know she was very upset. Shifty, really. Very anxious to get rid of Seb and me.”

  “Well, she’s always nervous about people going down to the mill,” said Lois. “Batty old mum an’ that. I pity her, in a lot of ways. Funny old life, with not much fun. But I’d trust her…wouldn’t you?” Lois looked at Bill’s wide face, with its open, straightforward expression, and felt a moment’s doubt. Perhaps there was more to Enid than she knew. That brother, Edward, for a start. Why had she denied so quickly that they were twins? She still hadn’t asked Bridie, and must remember to do so. She knew what Derek would say. Keep to a business relationship and leave personal things out of it. But this was impossible in New Brooms. They were all close, good friends. That was the way it worked.

  “You’ve seen a bit of Enid at jobs,” she said. “There’s never been any difficulty, has there?” None of the others had ever complained. The reverse, really. Enid got on with everybody. But, now she thought of it, Enid’s way of getting on was to keep quiet, make no impression. None of her colleagues had ever said anything against her, but no words of praise, either. Clients, yes, had often said how pleased they were with Enid. Her fellow cleaners accepted her well enough, but kept their distance. Perhaps were made to keep their distance.

  Bill got to his feet. “No, Mrs M. It’s not about work, I suppose. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything. Just a feeling I had, and wanted you to know about. I don’t even know why. Sorry if I’ve wasted your time.”

  Before Lois could get up from her chair, he had opened the door and gone. She sat and thought about Enid for a while, then made a note to remind herself about piano lessons.

  ♦

  After lunch, Lois telephoned Bridie. Hazel answered the phone, and repeated her question. “You OK, Mrs M?” she said. Lois, aware that Hazel was still very much in touch with Cowgill, said that she was fine, and was Bridie there?

  “Hi, did you forget something?” Bridie sounded concerned. For a second only, Lois had an impulse to tell Bridie all about her worries with Derek. They were old school friends, after all. But they were also employer and employee, and Lois stifled the impulse at once.

  “I’m fine,” Lois said. “It’s just a small thing. You said a while ago that Enid and her brother were twins. I think a birthday’s coming up, and I don’t want to put my foot in it…you know, with Edward being a villain an’ that. She might not want reminding.”

  It sounded lame, but Bridie answered cheerfully. “Not sure about twins, really. I know they were very close. There were rumours about them bein’ involved in dodgy deals. Him, mostly, though. Anyway, it was all a long time ago.”

  Oh, my God, poor Enid, thought Lois, as she dialled the mill number. No wonder she’s so buttoned up. Plenty to keep quiet about, I reckon.

  “Hello?” It was a gruff voice, and Lois said, “Is that Mr Abraham? Mrs Meade here. Is Enid there, please?” Piano lessons were on Lois’s list, but she had also not forgotten her task of finding out what Enid remembered of Alibone Woods. An uphill task, more than likely. Still, she had half-promised Cowgill, and she didn’t want him pestering. It was something to do with him that had made Derek so odd, she was sure of that. Inspector Cowgill, and Lois’s work for him, had been the only really big thing to come between them for years.

  “Hold on, I’ll get her.” She heard footsteps receding on
the stone floor. There was never any hope of a conversation with Walter Abraham, and Lois doubted whether it would be much use anyway. If Enid was buttoned up, he was doubly zipped.

  “Yes? Can I help…did you forget something?” Enid sounded sympathetic, and Lois frowned. So they’d all noticed.

  “No, it’s the piano lessons,” she said. “Did you mean what you said about Jamie? He’s really keen. Hasn’t stopped going on about it since Christmas! O’course, we’d pay you. Derek insists.”

  “Goodness, yes, I always mean what I say!” Enid’s voice had brightened. “I’d love to teach him. Such a nice lad. When shall I start?”

  All Lois’s suspicions, raised mostly by Bill, that Enid might not be what she seemed, were dispersed. She was surely a good woman, and had so much to cope with at home. “How about tomorrow afternoon? Now the Browns in Fletching have moved away, you’ve got a free hour. The kids get home about half past four. Could you come then?”

  “Yes, indeed, I shall look forward to it.” Enid sounded as excited as if someone had invited her to a party, and added that she’d bring some piano books. “We’ve still got the ones we had when we were children,” she said. “Edward was always ahead of me, of course. Quicker at everything, really. But he wasn’t a sticker, and gave up after grade two! He could probably have…well, no point in that now…”

  The collapse of Enid’s euphoria was very apparent to Lois, and she said quickly, “Good, I’ll tell Jamie when he comes home and he’ll be over the moon. Thanks a lot, Enid. See you tomorrow.”

  Gran came into the room as she put down the phone, and her expression was serious. “Lois, I want a word with you,” she said.

  “No, Mum,” said Lois. “I know what you’re going to say, and it’s none of your business. Derek and me will sort it out.”

  Gran looked astonished. “What on earth are you talking about?” she said. She knew perfectly well, of course, but wasn’t going to admit it. “I wanted to tell you there’s a letter been shoved through the door, not by the postie. By hand. It’s the same handwriting as last time. Here,” she added, and held out a white envelope.

  Lois took it gingerly. “Sorry, Mum,” she said. “Hey, you don’t think it’s a bomb, do you?”

  “Not the kind you mean,” said Gran, and she wasn’t smiling. “There’s different sorts of bombs, if you ask me.” She was a sharp woman, in full possession of her marbles, and had noticed that it was after that first letter that Derek had turned against Lois.

  “What d’you mean?” Lois knew her mother well enough to see that there was more to come.

  Gran explained. She wondered if there had been others, ones that Derek had picked up without them knowing. “I reckon they’re poison pen letters, Lois,” she said. “You should open that one.”

  “Open it! What – steam it open over the kettle? Oh, come on, Mum…you’ve bin watching too much telly!”

  Gran shrugged. “All right, then,” she said. “Give it here. I’ll open it. Somethin’s got to be done. You and Derek can’t go on like you are.”

  “I told you…it’s none of your – ”

  Gran interrupted sharply. “Now look here, Lois. I’m still your mother, an’ if I see you making a mess of things, I shall tell you. You can chuck me out after, if you want.”

  Lois was silent, thinking rapidly. Mum was right. They couldn’t go on without it being sorted out. “But that letter might have nothing to do with me and Derek,” she said weakly.

  They prised open the envelope with great care. It was poor quality, and the glue did not hold for long. As they unfolded the sheet of grubby, lined paper, Lois saw the anonymous capitals. “Is it the same as that one you saw on…” she began, and then stopped in horror. “WATCH THE COUNCIL BARN, MISTER. SEE THE SHOW. THE COP AND YOUR WIFE AT IT. WORTH A LOOK.” The words swam in front of her eyes, and she reached out to grab the back of a chair.

  “Lois! Lois!” Gran rushed round the table and caught Lois as she collapsed. She managed to get her to a chair, and then swiftly fetched a glass of cold water.

  ♦

  An hour later, Gran looked anxiously out of the window as Lois slammed her car door and drove off with grating gears. There was nothing she could do to stop her. It had taken only a few minutes for Lois to get herself together and telephone Cowgill. “Usual place,” Gran heard her say, “and no, for God’s sake, no, not the barn. Alibone. And yes, now!” Then the back door had slammed, and Lois started her car.

  There was, after all, something Gran could do, and she did not hesitate. She found the number in Lois’s address book and dialled Derek on his mobile, praying that he would answer.

  ∨ Weeping on Wednesday ∧

  Twenty-Two

  It began to rain as Lois parked off the road in the entrance to Alibone Woods. In her hurry to get away she had forgotten her boots, and now squelched along the muddy path towards the meeting place. She couldn’t see Cowgill’s car, and was working up a good fury when she saw the tall figure of the inspector standing by the usual tree.

  “How did you get here?” she said unceremoniously, and Cowgill saw that she was shaking. “Calm down, Lois,” he said. “I found another place to park, not so obvious. Don’t forget Edward Abraham might know these woods.”

  Lois stared at him. She had forgotten Abraham. Of course, Cowgill would think it was about him she’d phoned. Some urgent revelation. Well, hard luck. She pulled the letter out of her pocket and handed it over to him without a word.

  He took it carefully, holding it by one corner. “Ah,” he said. “So that’s it.”

  “Yes, that bloody well is it!” said Lois. “That’s the end of it. No more playing detectives for me. I’m in deep trouble with Derek, and you’ve got to put it right. I don’t want to see you any more, ever again, and don’t get in touch. No phone calls, no lyin’ in wait round corners. Just leave us alone!”

  She stared at Cowgill, but he wasn’t even listening to her. Not looking at her, either. His eyes were on the track behind them, and she turned around. “Oh, God,” she said quietly.

  Along the track, head down against the driving rain, trudged Derek. His head was bare, and the rain had soaked his hair so that it flattened to his scalp. Lois and Cowgill did not move. When Derek reached them, Lois could not be sure that the water coursing down Derek’s cheeks was rain. The misery in his eyes made it more likely that they were tears. He stopped and looked at Cowgill.

  “Well,” he said, “get talking. You first, then Lois.”

  ♦

  High up in a tall fir, yards away from the three, a hunched figure crouched in the branches. Approaching footsteps crunching the bracken had warned him. He had always been good at climbing trees, and he felt quite safe, hidden from view. As he heard the voices, one measured and calm, one loud and angry, he smiled. The woman was silent, and that was satisfactory. All going to plan then. He reached into his pocket and took out a mint. He brushed off the grey fluff, and popped it into his mouth. He’d missed lunch, and was hungry. Soon be time to be getting back, as soon as the coast was clear. They were moving away now, and he could no longer hear their voices.

  ♦

  “Now, just a minute,” said Cowgill. “This is getting us nowhere.”

  Derek turned on Lois. “I’d have said you two’ve bin getting quite a long way lately,” he accused, “so why’ve you got nothin’ to say, Lois?”

  Lois narrowed her eyes and stared angrily at him. When she spoke, her voice was dangerously quiet. “I’ve got plenty to say to you, Derek Meade,” she said, “and most of it in private. But this is for now. What bloody right have you got accusing me of having it off on the quiet with someone else? Have you forgotten that tart, Gloria Hathaway? Because I haven’t. Forgiven but not forgotten, Derek. Never would have brought it up again if you hadn’t put your stupid great foot in it here.”

  Derek flushed. He was beginning to feel a fool, but would not back down until he’d got the truth.

  “Anyway,” continued Lois, “I�
��m not walking round here in the rain another minute. We got to sort this out, and the best place for it is in your office, Inspector Cowgill. And,” she added, seeing his expression, “it’ll not be a waste of time. Because if you don’t convince this idiot that there’s absolutely bloody nothing going on between us, then I’ll blow everything you’ve told me about the Abrahams, an’ I’ll warn Enid and she can warn her brother, and you’ll never sodding well catch him!”

  Derek stared at her. “What’s all this?” he said.

  “Come on, then,” said Cowgill, “I’ll meet you there. You can park in the public car park opposite, then come round the back of the station and I’ll let you in. Don’t want you being spotted.”

  “No thanks,” said Derek. “We’ll come in the front door, not the bloody tradesman’s entrance. If Lois wants to sneak round the back, well, fine. You’ll find me in reception.”

  They drove in convoy – a ridiculous convoy, comical under other circumstances – into Tresham and duly found their way to Cowgill’s office. He had had time to work out his strategy, and began by ordering coffee for them all.

  “Now then, Derek,” he said.

  “Who said you could call me ‘Derek’?” The tone was belligerent, and Cowgill sighed.

  “Oh, don’t be stupid, Derek,” Lois said.

  “Well, shall I call him ‘Hunter’?” replied Derek, rounding on her.

  “Now, now, it is unimportant what anybody calls anybody,” Cowgill said. “As far as I’m concerned, there is one big issue. Derek has had anonymous letters suggesting Lois and I are having an affair. It is my responsibility – since I persuaded Lois to work for me – to convince Derek that this is rubbish of the first order.”

  “Go on, then,” said Derek.

  Cowgill had marshalled his thoughts, and spoke at length. He didn’t know that Derek had already made up his mind. Lois’s reaction in the woods, her outburst and threat to warn Enid…

  Bloody hell, said Derek to himself as Cowgill droned on, hadn’t he lived with her all these years?…