Folly (11 page)

‘I don't want you to feel pressured, of course,' Reverend Restrick said.

‘Thank you, Reverend, thank you. Yes, I'll be grateful to stay with you, but I'll be away before breakfast.' He started to move and the vicar immediately got to his feet to let the monk out from behind the table.

‘We'll see,' Reverend Restrick said, smiling at Alex as the other man walked ahead of them.

W
hatever Tony felt, it wasn't good. There had been something off in his father's voice. Come to that, it was off for him to call late in the evening at all. If there had been something worth saying, something that couldn't wait for a more reasonable hour, they could have spoken at the Black Dog, or so he'd have thought. This summons, and that's what it had sounded like, pressed all of Tony's warning buttons.

Katie ran ahead along the pathway toward the doctor's home and surgery. Multiple rose arches punctuated the way where, if it were light enough, the dormant vines would show, thick and brown. At 39 Bishop's Way – the house wasn't named – a fifteen-foot-high stone wall with impressive ball-topped gateposts edged the narrow verge that butted the roadway. A brass plate with the number and Dr Harrison's surgery information was set into one gatepost. The property stretched back a deceptively long way and James Harrison's all but lifelong gardening hobby had produced a lush, mature half acre that became a destination view in summer when great splashes of color vied for attention among mature trees, and the lawn behind the house rolled, emerald, down to a bubbly feeder stream.

Curtains were drawn over the study window but the conservatory lights glowed and Tony ran to catch up with Katie before she could scratch the door.

He pushed between counters crowded with pots where the air smelled of mulch and loamy soil.

Another half an hour and he would have left for home. If his paperwork weren't in such need of a major attack, he would already be on his way. His assistant in the office and surgery was on holiday.

‘Dad,' he called, crossing the old stone tiled back hall and putting his head around his father's study door. ‘You called – I came.'

Looking at him over the top of his half glasses, his dad didn't return Tony's smile. A book lay open on his knees but it had slid sideways, as if unread.

‘Good, good. Get us a drink, would you? I'll have a splash of soda in mine.'

The Scotch wasn't decanted. An almost full bottle of Macallan and a soda siphon stood on a shelf among a cluster of mismatched crystal glasses. James Harrison liked good crystal and picked up any piece he fancied, regardless of size or pedigree.

‘Damn frigid out there,' he said, holding his hands to the wood fire that curled up the soot blackened breast of a fireplace surrounded by royal blue and dark green tiles. ‘Cold enough to knock the bottom off a brass monkey,' he added in what was about as lusty as his language ever got and clearly an attempt to take the edge off an already strained atmosphere.

Tony poured the drinks. He didn't believe in diluting good scotch with anything and took his own neat. ‘This'll warm me up for the drive home,' he said. ‘Probably shouldn't be too much longer – got an early call in the morning.'

‘Mm.'

His dad's mind was elsewhere, apparently buried in whatever topic had also distracted him from the book now sliding, unheeded, toward the floor.

Although the room was small, when Tony's mother had been alive she had sat in the chair he used now to read or sew while she kept her husband company in the evenings. He could imagine the two of them there now and, although he was grateful for the closeness they had shared, thinking about how his father had missed his wife saddened Tony. At least his dad got out more these days.

‘Never thought I'd see the day when this village got turned into a horror story,' his dad said. ‘A lot of people are frightened. You can feel it but there's only so much you can say when you try to soften things a bit.'

‘I know. And I can't get my head around the idea of it being a religious man who's been victimized. You can't get away from that being true, can you?'

‘No, son.' The doctor sank more deeply into his cracked, green leather chair and didn't react when the book hit the carpet.

The room still looked as it had when Tony's mother had been alive. The greens and blues in the old fireplace tiles were repeated in draperies, carpets and cushions. In summer, with the windows open, it felt as if the inside and outside were one.

He waited but his father didn't say anything more.

‘You said it was important for me to come by tonight, Dad.'

The doctor took a thoughtful swallow from his glass. ‘I was sorry you and Penny didn't have a smooth path with your marriage but not completely surprised. You were very young when you met and I think she expected to carry on in a sort of fairyland where she was the princess forever.'

Penny had not been the topic Tony expected.

‘I don't blame Penny for anything,' he said, although the words didn't ring completely true even in his ears.

‘We'll have to put you up for sainthood then. But I need to organize what's on my mind. You like Alex Bailey-Jones, don't you?'

So that was it
. ‘We've known each other since we were kids and it's easy for us to be together.'

His father still looked expectant.

‘In the past couple of days we've had reasons to talk a lot, but we don't know a whole lot about one another's lives between leaving Folly and coming back again – permanently, I mean. But, OK, yes, I like Alex. She's kind and smart and she isn't a quitter.'

‘She's also a pretty woman who knows how to stand on her own feet,' his father said. ‘And I think she's been through a lot, although she keeps it to herself.'

‘Has Lily ever talked about what happened with Michael?' Tony asked without thinking. His dad wasn't the kind to discuss other people's confidences.

‘Only that there's been real sadness and Alex likes to keep her own counsel. Does she know about you and Penny?'

Tony breathed deeply through his nose. ‘She knew Penny a long time ago – only through me, of course. I was already at university. You remember how I used to bring Penny home. That's how Alex met her.'

‘Don't beat around the bushes with me, son.'

‘No, then. She hasn't asked about Penny or anything else in my past and there's been no reason to bring it up.'

His dad gave a short, humorless laugh and bent to give Katie an absent-minded scratch between the ears. The dog liked to lie with her head on his checked woolen carpet slippers.

‘Why don't you just spit out what's really on your mind?' Tony said. He drained his glass and got up for a refill.

‘I've seen you and Alex together several times in recent days. You're protective of her. I may be old but I'm not dead yet. I can still read these things. I've seen the way you look at her – and you aren't and never were obvious about those things. But you want to be around her.'

It was his turn to laugh, or more, to snort. ‘I don't know how you get all the way there. Just because I get along well with an old friend doesn't mean there's a great romance in the wings.' He shouldn't drink any more Scotch, it was making him tired. When he was tired he could get short-tempered and that would be a mistake here.

‘At the pub earlier, you stopped by just to talk to her. You aren't much for being in the pub, never have been. That's changed, hasn't it? Now that Alex owns the place and she's there so much of the time. The murder just turned out to be something that gave you a chance to get to know her again. What exactly does she know about you? Since you went your separate ways, that is?'

Everything Tony looked at took on sharper focus; colors became more intense. He felt his skin tighten. ‘I'm sure she's figured out I'm not married any more.'

‘Would she know, by some sort of instinct, that you're a widower?'

‘I told you, it hasn't come up.' He rubbed a hand over his face, ashamed of his tone. ‘No, Dad, she doesn't know. Sorry to snap. It's still raw.'

‘It's been more than five years and before she died you two weren't having an easy time of it.'

‘Thanks for reminding me.'

His father took off his glasses and set them on the hearth. ‘Every parent says this, but I only want what's best for you. Alex might be that but you could blow it with the secrecy.'

‘Damn it, Dad. I don't even think Alex knows I was in Australia or that I had a practice there for a year.'

‘She would if you hadn't made a neat job of getting back here without talking about what happened. I still can't believe nothing was picked up by the media in this country. But don't think there aren't records in Australia, and if our local plods decide they want to dig around in your past, they'll find them.'

‘I wasn't charged with anything.' Tony sat down again, hard. ‘You never said any of this before. You kept telling me you believed the way I explained things and we didn't need to dwell on any of it. Those were your words, or damn close.'

‘And I meant them,' his father said, leaning forward, urgent. ‘But I'm your father, not a woman you want in your life.'

Tony opened his mouth to say he didn't know what he wanted in his life, but he thought he might want Alex. What he didn't have a strong idea about was how she felt about him.

‘You know she's divorced, son, and you know there's been some bad stuff in her life even if she doesn't say a lot. And you'd know if that ex-husband of hers had died in … if he was dead.'

‘In unusual circumstances? Isn't that what you were going to say? Might as well be completely open with me, Dad. You and I already know the whole story. What I don't get is why you think I would bring up the mess with Penny. I had no part in it.'

His dad got up and walked behind his chair. He braced his arms on the back. ‘Even you know how anyone else would take what you just said. They would think you were playing games. Of course you had a part in it. She was out there with you – because of you.'

‘But I didn't have anything to do with her death.' He refused to allow himself to crawl back into the dark hole it had taken him too long to escape. In that hole, he had even questioned himself.

‘Penny drowned,' Dad said. ‘They never found the body, just some of her diving equipment. But
she was gone a week
before you reported her missing. That's what could have changed your life forever, too.'

‘I hate this.' Tony put his glass aside. ‘There was someone else. I thought she was with him the way she had been on other occasions. I don't want to go through it all again.'

James Harrison's sharp eyes softened. ‘And I don't want you to either. Or to lose a chance at happiness because you lied.'

‘I haven't lied, dammit.' He was on his feet.

‘By omission. Same thing. If you don't bring it out in the open, and soon, she may never trust you.'

Tony picked up his coat and wound it over an arm. ‘Dad?' He had hoped never to ask this question but it was inevitable after tonight. ‘You're not sure you believe I didn't murder my own wife, are you?'

B
y four thirty in the morning, Alex gave up trying to sleep. As long as she kept counting the minutes until she could turn up at St Aldwyn's, and try to persuade Brother Percy to go with her to see Detective Inspector O'Reilly, she would not manage to keep her eyes shut.

A full moon lighting the room through thin curtains didn't help.

It was almost time to think about going to St Aldwyn's.

Already dressed and lying on top of the bed at Corner Cottage, she tried to gage how long she should wait before going to keep watch on the vicarage. She feared Percy might leave very early and she'd miss him.

Bogie shifted restlessly and whined. He jumped to the floor and she could see the shine of his eyes staring up at her. She had no way of really knowing his schedule yet but she'd better get him out for a run.

Staying like this was hopeless anyway and only made her more edgy and tired. She got up quietly and lifted Bogie into her arms. It was easy to shove her feet into her boots.

Her mother had been so pleased when she arrived – almost giddy but trying to be cool. Alex vowed to come and stay again soon, and spend more time with Lily, but after tonight and until she could go back to the lodge for good she knew the freedom of her own quarters at the Black Dog would be best.

The spare parka her mother kept for her was hung over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, where Alex had been in the habit of tossing her coat when she was still living at home in Underhill.

With moonlight acting almost like sunrise, she wasn't afraid to go out. They would still stay in the garden, from where she could get back inside quickly. At least she didn't have to go into those isolated woods that had become so ominous. Alex gave an involuntary shudder and closed the back door of the cottage behind her.

Pulling on a woolen hat and gloves, she followed Bogie only to see him whip to the stone wall at the bottom of the vegetable garden and slip through the gate that had been left open. She muttered under her breath. That gate was supposed to be closed and bolted.

The garden backed on to the village green and she ran after Bogie, knowing where he was heading. Calling him in a low voice to avoid rousing anyone in the cottages, she caught glimpses of flying dog heels and followed them until she made her way through scrubby grass on a narrow path trodden by many feet over a lot of years. Dirty snow still clung to ruts and hillocks on the ground. Each step she took crunched. As Cathy had suggested, the cold was bone freezing.

Bogie leaped about, gleeful at an unexpected chance to be outside. ‘Come here,
now
!' Alex hissed. ‘We're going back.'