Bury Him Darkly Page 12

  ‘Well… what d’you know! Our Bella! From here!’

  ‘She’d have to be from somewhere, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘She don’t even speak our language.’

  ‘Here, she does.’

  ‘Fancy that.’ She looked round at Oliver and Terry, then tried one of Oliver’s chips. ‘Mind you,’ she explained to them, ‘you can see it there. That Roma! Jus’ like our Bella. A right little hellcat, she was. Her an’ her sister, Tonia.’

  ‘You knew them, then?’ asked Oliver, keeping it going, shoving another chip in her direction.

  ‘Knew them! Everybody knew them. Listen. Here.’ She thrust her head forward and we obediently joined her. ‘Hot little bitches they were. After all the lads. You’d never guess. Not like in my time...’ She pursed her lips, poised the chip, then it was gone.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t so different,’ I said, smiling at her. ‘I bet you were a right little raver yourself.’

  ‘I never...’

  ‘It’s still there,’ I assured her, and by heaven it was, when I looked carefully. The bone structure was there, and the features, if now somewhat decrepit individually, were neatly placed. ‘I reckon they all came running.’

  She simpered horribly. ‘I had me a time, I’ve got to admit. But them two… you’d never believe...’

  But I would.

  ‘Took after their mother,’ she told me, nodding. ‘I knew her. Dulcie. That was their mother. Was at school with my girl Gwen. Drove poor Rowley wild, she did.’ She blinked at me. ‘Now there was a beauty. Queen of the May, she was.’ She giggled. ‘Lordy-me, but my Gwen was jealous of Dulcie. Lovely, she was, give her that.’ She blinked at me again. ‘Here...’ Her hand flew to her mouth as she tilted her head, her eyes unwinkingly on me now. ‘Oh, I have been makin’ a ruddy fool of meself! You’re not Dulcie’s second, are you? You’re not Tonia! Lemme have a good look at you. Yes — the eyes, it’s her eyes to a tee. An’ that hair. Had it curled, have you? Oh heavens — I am sorry. An’ the things I said!’

  I put my hand over hers on the table. ‘I’m not Tonia,’ I said gently. ‘It’s all right. I’ve been mistaken for her by other people.’

  She whipped the hand away and clamped it to her chest. ‘Oh, I am glad. Gave me a turn, that did.’ She glanced at Terry, who was grinning, and I thought for a moment she was going to slap him on the back, to express the extent of her gladness. Instantly she was laughing, at herself and at her social blunder, a choked clatter of a laugh.

  ‘And how,’ asked Oliver, when she subsided, ‘did Rowley’s wife, Dulcie, drive him crazy? Here, have a bit of fish.’

  I was still struggling to reconcile the image I’d gathered from Bella, that Tonia had been a frightened little mouse of a creature, with this old lady’s description of one of two hot little bitches. I was inclined to accept the latter description, though not keen to be accepted as Tonia if that was how she’d been. There was a distinct twinkle in Oliver’s eye. I knew he was pursuing the same thought, and perhaps fitting me in exactly with the image, blast him. But perhaps the two pictures were not completely irreconcilable. A frightened little mouse could well play the game of demure and virginal availability.

  ‘Y’want to ask Flora Porter about that,’ she said. ‘About Dulcie.’

  ‘But you know, and you’re here,’ I pointed out.

  ‘So I am. Here! You three havin’ another mug of tea, are you?’

  Terry got the hint and went to get them, he being the only one capable of carrying four mugs at the same time. We kept the old dear happy while he was away, going back in time to when she had been in the running for Queen of the May, and to me it sounded more like guerrilla warfare than a beauty queen contest, all roses and laughter you’d expect. All brickbats and tears, it had been.

  ‘Dulcie,’ Oliver reminded her, when we were all supping very hot, strong and satisfying tea. The old dear sucked it from the edge of her mug. ‘Drove poor Rowley crazy, she did.’

  ‘You mentioned that,’ I told her quietly. ‘In what way?’

  ‘You know. Before’n after.’

  ‘Before and after what?’

  ‘Before and after she married him, that’s what. P’raps he wasn’t very good at it. Him and his laugh and his slap on the back, and his leer and his suggestive wink! So p’r’aps there wasn’t anythin’ behind it. You know. An’ p’r’aps she played her game with him as well. They ain’t gonna take that, are they. The men. Not when it gets legal. Not anytime, these days, so I hear. It’s there in the marriage service, it is. Love, honour and cherish — an’ that bit about begettin’.’ She nodded suggestively.

  ‘But he did his bit of begetting,’ I told her. ‘Bella and Tonia.’

  ‘Ha!’ The salacious leer was ugly on her face. She wiped it away with back of her gloved hand. ‘There’s some as says he might not’ve had much of a hand in that. Or...’ She spluttered hideously. ‘Much of anythin’ else!’

  ‘But surely . . I was only prodding her on, trying not to laugh, desperately trying not to catch Oliver’s eye.

  ‘Reckon she went on as she’d always bin. There was a word for it then. They called Dulcie a cock-teaser. Never hear that these days, somehow.’

  ‘It’s sort of gone out of fashion,’ I informed her solemnly.

  ‘Well, that’s what she was.’

  ‘So you’re saying —’

  ‘Don’t ask me.’ She drew herself together in majestic dignity. ‘I’m not one for gossip. You’d better ask Mrs Porter.’

  ‘And who’s she?’

  ‘Don’t you know? Then I’ll leave you to find out.’

  ‘But how can I do that?’ I asked. ‘I don’t know where to find her.’

  ‘Waterford Farm,’ she said, nodding. ‘The cottage. It’s about all that’s left now, an’ I reckon when they’ve got that new road done the traffic’s goin’ to shake it down. Waterford Farm. Tell her you met Edith Payne. We’re friends.’ She began to lever herself awkwardly to her feet. ‘Here. You’ll get me chatterin’ all day. You hadn’ oughta encourage me.’ She stood as she’d arrived, one gloved hand on the chair back, one greasily on the table. ‘I’ll say goodbye to you good people. You’re sure you’re not Tonia?’

  ‘Quite certain.’

  ‘Hmm!’ She crimped her lips, still not convinced. Then she turned away and headed for the door.

  We said nothing until she was well clear, as though her essence still sat at the table and eavesdropped. Then Oliver slapped his knee. ‘Well, what did you get out of that, Phil?’

  I shrugged. What I’d really got was a sense of uneasiness, that I’d been introduced to people who were becoming important in my life, and that I suddenly saw them whole and real — and didn’t much care for what I was seeing. Bella! Well, Roma was Bella, and that was that. A hell-cat the old dear had called her. And so she was. As was Tonia. No — perhaps not. She was welcome to her demure sexuality. It had perhaps been an act for her, too. A dangerous one, I’d have thought.

  But these people I’d never met were taking on substance, had become clothed in personality — or unclothed. They now seemed rounded to me, living their exciting little lives in this confined valley town. Dulcie! Ah yes, Dulcie, who to me had been no more than their mother, who had gone away, Bella had told me, though later Rowley had changed it to died. I’d thought it strange for a mother to leave two little girls, and simply go away. But she’d been a teaser, and there are dangers to that, too. There can come a time when you’re teasing yourself, especially if your husband (if Edith Payne was to be believed) wasn’t very good at it. Then, with the right partner, something special could spark, and her life would abruptly flame with passion, so new to her perhaps, so wonderful, that nothing would matter but to perpetuate it. And if going away with this man, who’d need raise but one finger and the teasing stopped, ah, then there’d be no thought left for two children and a husband. Only for self, the only difference now being that she’d no longer found herself able to control it.


  And yes, that would explain Rowley’s story to the children. She had gone away, certainly. But later, when she’d failed to return, even knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to welcome her, he’d told them she had died — as she had in his heart. Bella had said he was a man who took chances. The big one he had taken was in marrying Dulcie.

  Now I understood his laugh and his shoulder slap, his bounce and his bonhomie. It had been an affectation of continual joy in living, to cover a blank despair that shadowed his life. Perhaps Dulcie had always teased him. Rowley sounded too soft, too understanding, too tender to strike sparks. Dulcie had been primed and charged, but Rowley had been like putty when she’d been yearning for a flint. I could have cried out in pity for his frustration. I could even, now, excuse his attitude to the girls. They were reproductions of Dulcie, and he could afford to shower on them a playful patter of sensuous slaps, because he could hide safely behind the knowledge that they would neither of them reciprocate, would repulse him. Safely. Nothing to fear. It was all a bit of fun, and life was like that. A bit of a lark, really. Wasn’t it?

  ‘Phil!’ I heard Oliver saying. ‘You still with us?’

  ‘What? Oh yes.’

  ‘I asked you what you made of it.’

  ‘What I think, Oliver, is that we’ve got to go back a long way on this one. Back to Rowley and to Dulcie.’

  ‘I thought that, too,’ said Terry.

  We both stared at him.

  Chapter 9

  We walked, in a leisurely manner, back to the hotel. Oliver decided it was a good time to have a look at the two houses, while there was still enough of them left to make possible an assessment of the general situation. So we decided to do that.

  The two men headed straight for the bar, while I went up to change into something practical, such as slacks and low-heeled shoes. I’d need to freshen up a little, too. It was something of a surprise to find Bella in the room, my mind being so preoccupied that I’d assumed I’d be walking into my room rather than ours.

  She was smoking nervously by the window, and turned quickly, her eyes suddenly wild before she had herself in hand.

  ‘Oh — there you are!’ As though I’d kept her waiting. Then the mood fled away, and she was all welcome, all excitement. ‘Have you heard the news? Have you, Phil?’

  I’d forgotten that I hadn’t met Bella since Connaught had told us the female skeleton definitely wasn’t Tonia’s. For a moment I hesitated, forcing my mind to it, trying to remember whether I was supposed to be pleased or disappointed. ‘About the skeleton...’ I suggested tentatively.

  ‘Yes, yes. Isn’t it a relief, darlin’?’

  ‘Relief?’

  ‘That it’s definitely not Tonia. Go on. You can smile. You’re relieved too. Admit it, Phil.’

  ‘Am I supposed to be relieved?’ I demanded, annoyed at her stupidity. ‘You can be, for all I care. Go on, enjoy your bit of relief. But where does it leave me? Where I was. That’s where.’

  Dismissively, I went across the room to sort out some slacks and the little jacket I rather liked, knitted but half-lined. The air had been feeling cooler. While my back was to her she said nothing. People were supposed to be looking at her while she was speaking, so that they wouldn’t miss one nuance of her expression or fail to admire her sincerity. As I turned…

  ‘Now… Phil...’ she said, all contrition. ‘Don’t be angry —’

  ‘Angry! Who’s angry? I could scratch your eyes out, but I’m not angry. You had to foist me off as your sister. A pretty game, that was.’

  ‘But Phil! I had to do something. I had a feeling… I felt there was going to be something turn up. Kind of. And if it did, there could be two… well… bodies. And Phil, I was so worried they’d assume one of them had to be Tonia.’

  I flung my skirt at her, but it fell short and on my bed. Not wishing to watch her face, not welcoming the raw triumph in her expression, I sat down on the edge with my back to her, sliding into the slacks. ‘What you mean,’ I said, slowly and intensely, ‘is that you damn well knew there’d be two skeletons, and it was going to be bad for you if they assumed one was your father’s and one your sister’s.’ I stood up, yanked the slacks to my waist, and whirled round, catching her with one finger to her lips, and went on, ‘So you had to have a sister Tonia on hand, and I was a good substitute. No!’ I snapped, as she opened her mouth. ‘Let me say this. Now I’m expected to open my arms wide and clasp you to my bosom and tell you you’re forgiven! Christ, Bella, you must be stupid if you think —’

  ‘But Phil,’ she cried, ‘I’ll tell everybody it was a mistake. Everybody. Then they’ll know you’re not —’

  ‘Never mind me!’ I shouted. ‘Don’t you understand what you’ve done to yourself? And don’t stand there gawping. Try to use what bit of brain you’ve got. By using me as a substitute Tonia, you’ve made it too clear you had prepared for it. Planned. As though you knew there’d be two corpses, and one of them female. Knew!’

  ‘Oh Phil… come on now...’

  ‘Bella,’ I pleaded. ‘Try to concentrate. There’s only one way you could’ve known there would be two skeletons, and one of them female. Only one way. You can work out the rest for yourself.’

  She was shaking her head, her lower lip poised in quiver position, like a child being shouted at for a tiny indiscretion. Don’t scold me, mamma, please!

  I ignored her, pretending she wasn’t there, walked into the bathroom and wasn’t pleased with what I saw in the mirror and tried to wash it away. My face doesn’t wear anger very daintily. Repaired, more resigned than relaxed, I walked back across the room, changed my blouse, and slipped into my little jacket.

  ‘You’re going out,’ she said dully. Not asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why can’t you stay? Oh Phil, I’m so bored .

  ‘Work to be done.’

  ‘Work?’ There was envy there.

  ‘Trying to discover the truth.’

  ‘Then you don’t think —’

  ‘I don’t think anything, Bella. I’ll see you later.’ I turned to the door, but her sulky voice held me.

  ‘Why is it that you’ve got two men, and me none?’

  So she’d watched us from the window. ‘You’ve got Jay.’

  ‘Jay! I’d need to be desperate. He’s gone out jogging, anyway.’

  Certainly, she sounded desperate. Did she expect me to ask her to join us? I said nothing more, but opened the door.

  ‘Phil!’

  ‘Now what?’

  ‘You can’t wear that jacket without something at your throat. It kills your eyes, just kills —’

  ‘Go to hell.’ I slammed the door behind me.

  Why was it that even when she most exasperated me, she still had the ability to excite my sympathy? She seemed so vulnerable, behind her hell-cat image, so eager to be liked and wanted when she seemed to be exerting herself in her efforts to repulse. Had she, I wondered, always been like that, observing her hair-trigger temper abort any friendly approach before it matured? It seemed to me that after all Jay could be her natural soul-mate, closing his eyes to the flashes of rejection, flouting the fighting stance, riding the aggressive blows. And laughing her out of it — or shouting her down — or slapping her down.

  I found them in the bar. Oliver turned and frowned at my expression.

  ‘What is it, Phil?’

  ‘That damned Bella!’

  ‘Forget her. She can’t harm you now.’

  ‘No?’ Sometimes, Oliver disappointed me. ‘Are you two ready? We’ll have to get moving or the light’ll be gone.’

  We went out to pick up the Rover. I was still worried about those wheels, but Terry got out the wheel-nut wrench and managed another half turn on each, so that I had to pray that I’d never need to change a wheel, because I’d be quite unable to undo them again.

  ‘It’s becoming an obsession,’ said Oliver. ‘We could’ve used my car.’

  It was parked right beside mine. I said, ‘I’ll be doing
the driving because I know the way, and I’m used to the Rover now.’

  I hoped neither of them had noticed the shake in my voice. It was here that Jennie had died, but I didn’t want Terry to realize that.

  I took us out of the yard. The traffic seemed to be lighter, but of course the shops would soon be shut. ‘I’ll take you the back way,’ I said.

  Oliver was beside me, Terry in the rear. I was keyed up, just waiting for either of them, no doubt both trained at police driving schools, to comment on my technique. But perhaps they sensed my mood. In any event, they said nothing, even when I jumped an amber. But police drivers are probably trained to do that.

  ‘Why the back way?’ Oliver asked.

  ‘So that you can get a general impression of the size of the town and the way it lies, and to show you the housing development along the rise at the far side of the valley.’

  ‘We’d be interested in that, d’you think?’

  ‘It’s a question of motivation,’ I explained.

  ‘For what?’ You’d have thought I was a suspect.

  ‘The murder of Rowley Fields.’

  ‘That’s assuming the male skeleton is in fact his.’

  ‘You can be annoying, Oliver Simpson. Who else could it be?’

  ‘I don’t know. And we don’t know who could lay claim to the female one.’

  I drove a quarter of a mile, placidly, I hoped. You get these times when everybody seems to be setting out to be annoying. In the end I said, sighing, ‘Let’s assume it’s Rowley Fields. He went missing, and he’s not turned up.’

  Of course, Terry had to get his word in. ‘Tonia also went missing, and she hasn’t turned up, either. Unless...’

  ‘Don’t say it!’ I warned. ‘Don’t even hint.’

  There was a long silence, into which Oliver eventually inserted a comforting voice.

  ‘No doubt, in due course, they’ll find some peculiarity of Rowley Fields and match it to the skeleton. In the meantime, assume it’s him, and tell us why you brought us along here — unless it’s just for the view.’

  It would have been worth it just for that. ‘It’s not for the view,’ I assured him. We were passing the scattering of high quality houses that Connaught had shown me, so many of them still unsold. ‘It’s this development here. I’m told that they’re owned by a man called Tudor Kemp, a local, who also owns the factory with the tall chimney, and a lot of the land the motorway spur’s coming through.’