Fields of Blue Flax (22 page)

‘According to the witness statements, it looks like she was overtaking a lorry and another lorry was coming straight at her on the other side. The dual carriageway had ended just a half mile or so before, so perhaps she had forgotten there was no overtaking lane.’

‘But Mum’s such a good driver, she was always so careful,’ Anna mumbled. ‘I just don’t get it.’

‘Why was she driving down the A1 anyway?’ Jack’s voice was quiet. ‘She wasn’t coming to see us.’

‘It was the trial at Gateshead,’ said Gerry. ‘She wanted to see that man get his sentence.’

Sergeant Bell coughed. ‘Do you two kids want to go grab a coffee? There’s something I’d like to discuss with your dad.’

Gerry was waiting for Anna to insist on staying but she stood up, and pulled on her brother’s arm. ‘Okay. Dad, we’ll bring one back for you.’

Once they had left the room, Sergeant Bell said, ‘Mr Wallace, this is rather a delicate matter.’ He paused and looked down at his notebook. ‘Though the post-mortem is still to be done, I have to tell you that, in the initial blood tests, there was a high level of cannabis in Christine’s system.’

Gerry leant forward. ‘Cannabis?’ He shook his head. ‘There must be some sort of mistake, my wife never took drugs. I mean, she hardly even drank…’

‘I’m sorry, there is no mistake, definitely cannabis.’

Gerry slumped back into his seat. ‘This makes no sense, none of it does.’ He looked up at the policeman. ‘So what does this mean?’

‘We’ll find out more from the post-mortem and take it from there. I’m sorry,’ Sergeant Bell said again.

Gerry had told the kids after the meeting with the policeman that he wanted to go and walk in the hospital gardens to make a couple of calls. They were going to get the train to Durham to pick up Jack’s things and collect the car, then Jack’s flatmate would drive them to Anna’s flat in Jesmond for her things.

Gerry pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped in Mags’ number. Though upset, she had been a great support, reacting calmly and rationally to the news. She said she would take care of everything up in Edinburgh for now, much to Gerry’s relief.

‘How’s Charlie?’ he asked.

‘Not great, but that’s hardly surprising.’ Mags voice was a monotone. Gerry could hardly recognise her without the usual cheerful lilt. ‘Mum’s staying with him for now. How’re the kids?’

‘Not good at all.’

He could hear Mags breathing out loudly, but she said nothing.

‘I tried Doug’s phone but can’t get through to him. Any idea where he is?’

Mags cleared her throat. ‘No, I texted him yesterday so I’m sure he’ll phone you. What happens next?’

‘They’ve got to do a post-mortem so the body won’t be released for a few days. But actually there was something I
wanted to ask you, Mags.’

‘Yes?’ Her voice was strained.

‘Well, the policeman told me earlier that – well, you won’t believe this, but it seems Chris had a high level of cannabis in her blood when she died. I just don’t understand.’

Silence.

‘Mags, are you still there?’

‘Yes, sorry. What?’

‘Cannabis found in her blood. I know how you and Chris had had that chat with Great Auntie Bella about sourcing her some hash before she died. Did you ever get it?’

‘No, we didn’t do anything about that crazy request. So, no leads there. Sorry.’

‘No. It just seems so out of character.’

‘Yes.’ Her voice faltered. ‘It does.’

‘Sorry. Forget this whole conversation, please, it’s as if you’re implicated somehow and you must be feeling as…’ He stopped, trying to regain his composure. ‘As bereft as I am.’

‘Yeah,’ whispered Mags.

‘Better go now. Thanks for looking after Charlie.’

‘No problem,’ she said, hanging up.

Two days later, Mags went round to Gerry’s house with a casserole and an apple pie. She hadn’t wanted to invite them to her house as she hadn’t seen Doug since she threw him out and knew it would be awkward explaining his absence.

When Mags rang the doorbell, a policewoman answered the door. She introduced herself as Police Constable Dall, the families’ liaison officer.

‘Where’s Uncle Doug?’ Jack asked. ‘Lottie says he’s away
somewhere.’

‘Yes, he’ll be around soon, I imagine. Have you heard from him, Gerry?’

Gerry was sitting at the kitchen table, looking out into the garden. ‘Need to get something done in the garden,’ he said, to no one in particular. ‘Chris always loved it neat and tidy, can’t let it go…’

‘Dad, Auntie Mags asked you a question.’

Gerry turned round to look at Mags. ‘Doug, yes, he’s coming round later, can’t remember when. This afternoon maybe?’

The policewoman put up her hand. ‘Gerry, I think you told me your friend would be here between four and five o’clock, and it’s ten to four now.’

‘Oh, I’d better be going,’ Mags said, starting for the door. She hugged Anna and Jack before she left. Gerry raised his hand to wave limply, but continued to stare out of the window.

PC Dall followed Mags to the front door.

‘What time do you finish here today?’ asked Mags.

‘Very soon. Why?’

‘Would you have time to call round to my house, please? Here’s the address.’ She fished out of her basket a card with ‘Mags’s Cakes’ stamped on it.

‘Is this something to do with Mrs Wallace?’

‘Yes, maybe.’

‘I’ll be with you soon as I can.’

Chapter Forty

2014

Lottie sat at the piano in Mags’s dining room. She had just finished playing
Julia
, one of her favourite Ludovico Einaudi pieces, when she heard the front door open. She knew it would be her mum returning from seeing Gerry.

‘In here, Mum!’ she shouted, shutting the piano lid.

Mags came into the room, her eyes puffy, her hair greasy, wearing a crumpled long skirt. She kissed the top of her daughter’s head.

‘Your hair smells nice,’ she said, scratching her scalp. ‘I can’t even be bothered washing mine. I must look like a tramp.’

Lottie gave her a hug.

‘Want me to play something?’

‘No, let’s go and have a glass of wine.’

In the kitchen, Lottie sat down at the table while Mags brought over a bottle and two glasses.

‘Mum, I’ve been thinking.’

Mags poured the wine and sat down. She looked at Lottie, who was anxiously biting her nails.

‘It’s about Auntie Chris. Well, do you wonder if, before she died, Dad told her that we had found out about everything? And do you think she might have…’ Lottie swallowed. ‘Well, do you think she might have killed herself?’

‘Suicide?’ Mags gasped. ‘Oh, I don’t think so. Chris would never have been brave enough. No, I really don’t think she’d have contemplated suicide.’

Lottie nodded. ‘Okay, just a thought. Because I still don’t
see how this is possible. She was always so sensible, never reckless. So I wonder if he told her. He must have, don’t you think?’

‘I really don’t know what he told her.’

‘And where’s he been all this time? Has he at least seen the three of them?’

‘Gerry said he was expecting him this afternoon. I haven’t spoken to him, but I know he’s been at work every day, I checked with Frances at the practice.’

The doorbell rang. Mags picked up her glass and took a gulp then stood up. ‘Lotts, if this is a policewoman, I need to speak to her in private.’

Lottie shrugged and swirled the wine round in her glass. ‘It’s fine, I’m going to phone Anna, see if she wants to come round later. I can’t bear to go there, it’s all too horrible.’

Mags opened the front door and ushered PC Dall into the dining room.

‘So what was it you wanted to see me about, Mrs Neville?’

‘Well,’ said Mags, tucking her hair behind her ears, ‘it’s rather delicate, but Gerry told me that cannabis had been found in Chris’s blood.’

‘That’s right. We’re still waiting on some test results but it seems there was a significant amount in her system. From what I’ve heard, it seems very out of character for Christine.’

Mags nodded, but didn’t say anything.

‘Gerry told me that the two of you were best friends and, I understand, cousins as well?’

‘The thing is,’ Mags slid her gaze away from the policewoman and down onto the polished dining room table. ‘I’d like to show you something, if that’s all right. It’s
easier.’ She looked up. ‘Can you come upstairs with me, please?’

Mags led the way to the attic stairs. ‘Mind your head. The ceiling’s a bit low.’

The attic was bathed in summer sun from the dormer window. Doug’s laptop was shut on his desk and beside it was a photo of Mags with a young Lottie, on the beach at Gairloch. They were both laughing, Mags holding Lottie’s hand. Mags wore a long white cheesecloth dress and her hair was up in a loose bun; Lottie had on red dungarees and her hair was in thick plaits that rested on her shoulders. In front of them was a sandcastle, a spade sticking out of the sand beside it.

Mags pursed her lips, then the words began to rush out of her. ‘Like you, I’d been wondering about the cannabis thing, because it seemed so out of character.’ She opened a drawer in Doug’s desk. ‘But I remembered when I was tidying things out the other day and found something in the drawer. I put it back where it was, so I presume it’s still here.’

She pulled the drawer fully out and lifted off the staples, pointing to the packet hidden underneath.

PC Dall drew the little plastic bag out and opened it slightly, lifting it to her nose.

‘Any idea how long this has been here?’

Mags twisted some loose strands of hair round her finger. ‘No. I only found it a few days ago when I was up here cleaning.’

The policeman placed the packet inside a plastic evidence bag, sealing the top. ‘I’ll need to take this away.’ She looked at Mags. ‘Is your husband a cannabis user, Mrs Neville?’

‘He dabbled a bit in the past, in his student days, but he’s
been a bit, well, on edge over the past few weeks so perhaps he’s taken it up again.’

‘And is there any way he might have supplied it to Mrs Wallace?’

‘They were good friends, who knows.’

PC Dall nodded and said, ‘Is this his laptop?’

‘Yeah, I keep mine in the kitchen.’

‘We may need to take it away, but we’d need your permission.’

Mags shrugged. ‘Help yourself.’ She stood back as PC Dall started to unplug it. As they walked down the stairs, she asked when Doug was due home.

‘I don’t know,’ said Mags. ‘He’s been away from home for a few days. But you’ve got his mobile number.’

‘We’ll need to ask him a few questions,’ said PC Dall. She shook Mags’s hand and left the house, Doug’s laptop held firmly underneath her arm.

As the door shut, Lottie appeared at her mother’s side. ‘What’s going on, Mum?’

‘Nothing, darling.’

‘She had Dad’s laptop. Why did she take that? I mean, they do that kind of thing for paedos or terrorists. The whole Jack thing’s nothing to do with Auntie Chris’s death, Mum.’

‘I know, none of this was my decision. PC Dall just wants to check a few things out.’

‘You didn’t tell her about Jack?’

‘Of course not, darling. Why would I? Now let’s get back to that wine.’

Chapter Forty-one

October 1859

David Barrie took out the key for the cottage and pushed it into the lock. He stepped inside, pulled open the curtains and unclipped the window locks, flinging them wide open. It was an overcast day but warm for October and the cottage had not been used for a couple of weeks.

He had brought a flask of water from home and had picked some brambles in the woods. He put them on a plate in the middle of the table then pulled a slim book from his pocket. He sat down at the table and began leafing through the pages while he waited for her to come.

He was looking forward to telling her the news, but until then he tried to make sense of the words on the page in front of him. Why could he not read and write like everyone else? The dominie had told his parents that he had some strange problem with letters, it was so frustrating.

But she kept telling him that he was not stupid, that he was intelligent, even. Something in the way she said it made him believe her. He wanted to do something to better himself. And she was so patient with him, unlike the dominie who had belted him in front of the class. He felt that, after all these years, he was finally making some sort of progress.

He thought about the first day he had spoken to her, about eight months earlier. Of course he had known who she was, having admired her slim figure and lovely face smiling on Sundays in church. But it was only when he had been helping Billy with the new bench for the piano that
he had spoken to her. She now played the music in church every week and had said the old bench was too low; with her height, she needed something higher.

At first she had spoken only to Billy, thanking him for the new bench. She sat down on it and dangled her feet. ‘This is perfect,’ she said as she pressed her feet on the pedals. ‘Just the thing for my long legs.’

Both men looked down at the stone floor and shuffled their feet.

‘Thank you, Mr Henderson. And, I do apologise, I have not been introduced to your assistant.’ She looked at David and beamed. He had the feeling she was admiring him and he felt himself redden. What a stupid thought; how could she, an educated lady, possibly appreciate anything about him, a lowly farm labourer.

‘It’s David Barrie, Miss. I live along the main street in the village.’

‘Like everyone else,’ she said, extending her hand and smiling. He took it to shake and noticed how soft her hand was, so unlike Margaret’s, calloused with hard work.

‘Can you play us something, Miss?’ David surprised himself by asking that, but she happily agreed. Soon Billy had to leave, but David lingered in the church, listening to her play some psalms. Once Billy had gone, she put the music book away and began to play another piece altogether. Her face beamed with pleasure as she tilted her head back and shut her eyes. He was gazing at her angelic face and her long neck when suddenly she stopped playing and opened her eyes. ‘That was Chopin, but apart from the first page, I don’t know it by heart.’