Lois Meade 01: Murder on Monday (EN, 2002) (22 page)

“We have to talk.”

“Do we? What about?”

“You know very well. About Gloria Hathaway, and that mysterious job you did for her and didn’t tell me about.”

“Oh God, it was ages ago…”

“I want to know. Now.”

Derek sat up straight in his chair. “Are you sure you want to know?” he said, and added, “Some things are better not spoken of.”

Lois was really frightened now, but having come this far she had to pursue it to the end, however disastrous. “Yep,” she said, “I want to know.”

It was a pathetic little tale. Derek had been looking for Nurse Surfleet to make a date for rewiring her cottage, and, unable to find her, he’d called in at Gloria’s, asking if she’d give her neighbour a message. “She said she might have some work for me and would I go in and have a quick look.”

“Huh!” said Lois.

Gloria had given him a cup of coffee and offered to dry his coat by her fire. “It was a dreadful day, tipping it down,” he said. They’d got talking, gone upstairs to look at a dodgy plug in her bedroom, and one thing had led to another.

“You didn’t…” Lois could hardly speak.

“Yes, I did. And after that I went back a couple of times to complete the job.”

“Huh!” said Lois.

Derek frowned, and rubbed his hand across his eyes. “She was good at it, Lois,” he said in a low voice. “Though you’d never have thought it. And it was that time when you’d gone off it, didn’t want to know…after Jamie was born…God knows I’ve regretted it since and hoped you’d never need to know, so’s not to be hurt. She was a real tart, y’know. Got all the tricks.”

Lois shook her head unbelievingly. Not her Derek, no, it couldn’t be true. “And you did it more than once, you said?” Somehow, that made it very much worse. The pounding in her ears was horrible and the room was hazy. “I’ll kill you,” she said in a pinched voice, and took up the poker.

“Don’t be so bloody daft,” said Derek, getting up quickly and advancing on her.

“I’ll kill you like
somebody
killed her,” said Lois, shouting now.

“
What?
” said Derek, and then, grabbing Lois’s wrists he began to laugh. “Have you forgotten I was here, in this bloody room that night she was done in? For God’s sake, Lois, sit down.” He took the poker from her, made her sit on the sofa, and then sat beside her. “Now you listen to me, young woman,” he said. “That Gloria Hathaway had been around. She knew exactly what she was doing and I was just one on her list. She chatted me up, knew how I was feeling. It was three times at the most, and then I got out. I was ashamed of myself, yes, and I’m very sorry now that I’ve hurt you. But that wasn’t the only thing. She was trouble, real trouble. If you want to solve your murder mystery, Lois, I can tell you more than a thing or two about Gloria Hathaway. Now, are you going to listen, or would you rather hit me over the head with a poker?”

Lois subsided into a muttering heap and Derek got up to open a medicinal bottle of brandy. “Here, drink this,” he said, and poured another one for himself. The minutes ticked by and it was so quiet they could hear Douglas snoring.

Then Lois downed the last of the brandy and turned to look Derek straight in the face. “You sod,” she said. “You stupid, silly sod.” He said nothing, waiting for her to go on. “I never thought you…of all people…not you, Derek. But there it is.” She took a deep breath, glared at him and said, “Right, since you know so bloody much about Gloria Hathaway, you can answer a few questions…”

T
uesday at the Barratts’ was a dull and unproductive morning for Lois, who could have done with some enlivening new scrap of information to take her mind off last night. Although she and Derek had come to a kind of truce, and he’d certainly given her some very interesting stuff about Gloria Hathaway, she still felt sick at such betrayal. She felt like talking to someone, but the Barratts were cemented together in an embarrassing reconciliation and had no time for gossip with their cleaner. She had a solitary lunch and sat staring at her notebook most of the afternoon. After a while, she began to write notes on what Derek had told her and slowly her spirits began to rise. By the time her mother came in with Jamie and Douglas trailing behind, she had gained enough confidence to answer her tactful questions as best she could.

With the boys safely in front of the television and Josie not yet home, she gave a more or less complete account.

“So that’s it,” said her mother. “No wonder you look so low. But it won’t do, Lois.”

“What d’you mean, ‘it won’t do’?” said Lois angrily. “Haven’t I got a perfect right to feel low?”

Her mother nodded. “But it’s not the end of the world, you know.” And then she smiled broadly. “I like him a bit better for it, to tell you the truth. He’s always been so perfect…your Dad and I used to call him Mr Smug in the early days.”

“Wonderful!” said Lois. “First my husband confesses to having it off several times with some scraggy old spinster and now my mother says she approves!”

“I didn’t say that, Lois. I just don’t judge, that’s all. So he’s had one small fling…it’s quite likely you’ll do the same one day. When you get to my age – ”

“Oh, spare me that,” said Lois rudely. “So what do you suggest I do? Congratulate him on his success with lonely old women?” She knew she was being unfair. Gloria had not been old and in her way not unattractive. But Lois was a woman scorned, and they are never fair.

“Think about it, Lois,” answered her mother. “What really matters? He’s still the same old Derek; a good husband and father. What’s important is that he still loves you – which he does, of course – and you both have a lovely family, home and jobs. Some people would give their eye teeth – ”

“I know, I know,” said Lois. “Well, I expect you must be getting back now,” she said unkindly, and ushered her mother to the door.

Later, though, she pondered over what her mother had said and knew it was sensible advice. She was still angry, though, and knew that Derek had to suffer some more for his transgression.

∗

Then, when she was still feeling adrift, without the firm footing at home that had given her confidence, there was another confrontation for Lois the next day. She was not looking forward to it. She had to discover why Gillian Surfleet had known about Derek visiting Gloria and had said nothing. Common sense told her that there was no reason why Nurse Surfleet should have mentioned it to her, but still…She probably assumed Lois knew about it. To an incurious neighbour, an electrician turning up at Gloria’s cottage on more than one occasion, meant nothing more than that he was doing an electrician’s job in a house riddled with electrical problems.

Well, he was on the job, that’s for sure, thought Lois, reluctant to listen to common sense, and I reckon Gillian knew all about it. There’s a lot she knows, according to Derek.

The nurse’s cottage was warm and Lois took off her coat in the small kitchen. “Hot in here,” she said abruptly. Nurse Surfleet was in her chairman of the parish council role this morning, seated at the table surrounded by council papers, working on village business.

Of course she knew, Lois assured herself. She knows everything that goes on in Farnden. “I’d like you to tell me something,” Lois continued, dispensing with polite frills.

“I’m rather busy, Lois,” said Gillian, brusquely. “Can’t it wait?”

“No,” said Lois flatly.

“Well…all right.” Gillian looked apprehensive. “We could have a coffee break now, if you like, though it’s earlier than usual.” Lois quickly made coffee and set it down. “Now then,” said Gillian in a brisk voice. “Sit down and tell me what’s up.”

“Would you say you were my friend?” Lois looked at her, unsmiling.

Gillian looked surprised. “Of course I am, you know that,” she said.

“If you thought there was something I ought to know, would you tell me? Even if it was likely to hurt?”

There was a long silence, during which Gillian studied her hands, bit the end of her pencil and shuffled her papers. Finally, she spoke quietly. “I know what you’re talking about, Lois,” she said. “It’s Derek, isn’t it. Yes, I knew about it, but it was such a little thing – ”

Lois gasped. “A
little
thing!” she shouted. “My God, if you were a married woman you’d know that your husband knocking off another woman is a
big thing!
”

Gillian’s eyes widened and she put her hand in front of her mouth. Perhaps she had not expected such vehemence. Lois had shaken her, but she was quick to regain her composure, stood up and walked round to where Lois was sitting. She put a hand on her shoulder, and Lois had great difficulty in not brushing it away.

“It’ll fade,” she assured Lois. “As time goes by it will fall into place. Don’t be too hard on him. Gloria Hathaway could be very persuasive…” Her voice was sad now, and she squeezed Lois’s shoulder in a way that was not wholly pleasant. Lois was silent, thinking hard. “Am I forgiven, then?” Gillian walked back to her seat, and began turning over papers. “Or have I got the sack?” she added, looking up at Lois with a smile.

Lois sighed. “Nope,” she said. “I need the money.”

They hardly spoke again before Lois left, but as she went out of the door to her car, Gillian Surfleet called her back. “Look,” she said. Her voice was odd, and Lois felt a shiver of apprehension. “I want to show you something.” She went to her desk and pulled out a newspaper clipping. It was old and yellowing with a photograph and some text.

“That was Gloria, when she was still at school. Champion that year at swimming,” she said. The picture showed a slight, slim girl in a black swimsuit posed against the sun. Her smile was wide and her hair long and glinting. “She was lovely once, you know,” said Gillian. “And she knew it. Don’t be too hard on Derek, my dear.”

Lois fled. “Something stinks,” she muttered to herself, and drove off much too fast. She felt like rushing home and having a hot shower, but until she calmed down and slowed down to a reasonable speed along the country lanes, she could not acknowledge what she had known for a long time. “Oh no, what a mess,” she said at last. She felt sad and sick at heart for Gillian Surfleet, in spite of everything. It was true, then, what Derek had said about her. There was love – lust, even – in the way she had stroked that creased bit of newspaper.

Lois had much to think about and when she went upstairs for a pee she didn’t question that Josie’s bedroom door was not standing open as usual. It was firmly shut and though it registered with Lois, she thought no more about it. Derek would be home at any minute for his lunch and she put on some water for boil-in-the-bag cod steaks. Quick and easy and not all that bad for you, she thought. Anyway, I don’t feel like slaving over a hot stove for my lord and master just at the moment.

She stood waiting for the water to boil and thought again about Josie. Maybe she had come back for something and shut her door behind her? She had a key of her own now. Lois dropped the plastic bag in the water and went back upstairs to check. She pushed open the door and peered into a darkened room. “Josie?” The curtains were drawn, and Lois could make out a hump on the bed that was Josie, curled up under the duvet, either fast asleep or pretending to be so.

“Are you OK?” she said gently. Josie had been very quiet lately, but Lois could not remember exactly when it had started. After Melvyn left, she supposed. She felt guilty that her own troubles had taken up all her thoughts. She should have asked Josie, tried to find out what was wrong.

“Josie? Aren’t you feeling well?”

A muffled voice said, “Go away,” but Lois sat down on the edge of the bed. “Please, Mum,” said the voice. “I’ve got a sore throat, so they sent me home. It’s really bad and I just want to sleep.” Lois frowned. A sore throat didn’t sound bad enough to be sent home for. Still, perhaps it was ‘flu. There was a lot of it about. “Shall I get you a hot drink, love?” she offered.

“Just leave me alone.” Josie was shaking, but Lois couldn’t tell if it was crying or the start of a temperature. She stood up and walked to the door. “Try to sleep, then,” she said. “I’ll come up again a bit later. See how you are.”

Derek was worried. “She’s not been right for quite a while,” he said. “You don’t think…?”

Lois’s reply was sharp. “Think she’s pregnant? Or on something? Well, it could be either. But then again, it could be ‘flu. Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt, shall we? Not everyone has a guilty secret.” She might as well have slapped his face.

“Fair enough,” he said, and without touching his ice-cream, he put on his coat and left. He didn’t say goodbye and he certainly did not blow her a kiss. Her heart rose again when the door opened and he poked his head back round the door, but all he said was, “Better get the doc if she’s no better by teatime.” And then he was gone again.

Well done, Lois. You really handled that well. She cleared away the dishes and washed up. Maybe a little quiet thinking would be good for her. She took out her notebook and began to write.
Doctor, vicar and professor
…
and businessman?
Thank God she didn’t have to add electrician, since Derek had been safe in the bosom of his family that night. But now the nurse. Any one of them could have strangled the very lovely Gloria Hathaway. None of them had a watertight alibi. The doctor had said he had driven to the other side of the county to see a friend who was not at home, the vicar was on his own in the vicarage, but had no witnesses to prove it, and the professor said he’d been waylaid on his way to the pub by a motorist asking the way to Tresham. Lois reckoned this had delayed him by just enough time for him to have nipped up to the village hall, done the deed, and been in the pub by the time Don Cutt remembered seeing him. Then there was Dallas Baer. Lois had not forgotten that row about jealousy and suspicion, and Evangeline’s disastrous fall, while he had stood by and watched. He’d been at home on his own that night. Now, of course, they were all lovey dovey, but she wouldn’t trust him round the corner, smarmy bugger.

And Gillian Surfleet? She was strong. Her arm muscles were well developed from heaving old ladies about. If she’d been in love with Gloria herself – and been spurned – she might have been unhinged enough to take revenge. Lois did her best to imagine the strength of feeling Gillian might have had for her unfriendly neighbour. Maybe Gloria hadn’t always been quite so unfriendly? Where had that faded newspaper cutting come from? Had Gillian known Gloria as a girl? Perhaps they had been at school together. Started as a schoolgirl crush, perhaps. They must have been about the same age. Gillian was perhaps a few years older, but they could still have coincided for a year or two. Ah, there were still so many unanswered questions.