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Authors: Ann Purser

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BOOK: Secrets on Saturday
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Lois sat down in a chair beside Ellen, and was delighted to see her so strong and chirpy. It was not going to be so difficult after all.

Lois and Ellen exchanged inconsequential conversation until a nurse politely enquired if Lois would like a coffee, directing her to a machine out in the corridor. “What d’ you think, Ellen?” Lois said. “Would you like me to stay, or are you too tired to talk?”

Ellen cackled loudly, causing heads to turn. “Good God no, dear!” she said. “You’re a long time dead … Plenty of time to rest then.” And she directed the nurse to fetch her friend a cup of coffee at once. “Black or white, Lois?” she said. The nurse winked at Lois and obeyed orders.

“Now then, Lois, let’s get to what you really want to know,” said Ellen, settling herself more comfortably in her chair. “It’s about them Coxes, ain’t it? Go on, then, ask me some questions.”

T
HIRTY
-O
NE

I
T WAS JUST BAD LUCK
,
THOUGHT
L
OIS
,
DRIVING
home from the hospital. Bad luck that a nurse had appeared at just the wrong time and said she must take Ellen off to have an X-ray. Apparently her ankle was very swollen, and they wanted to have a good look at it. She was very sorry, but perhaps Mrs. Meade would be able to come back tomorrow? No, she wasn’t sure how long the X-ray would take, as there was always a queue.

Of course I can go back tomorrow, Lois tried to reassure herself. It’s a busy day, but I can make time. Not likely, though, that Ellen would be in such a loquacious mood, nor so openly willing to talk about her brother-in-law. Damn, damn, damn! Lois banged her hands on the steering wheel in frustration, forgetting that this would produce a raucous beep. The driver of a white van in front stuck out his hand and raised two fingers, and she could see in the wing mirror his face contorted with rage. Lois calmed down. She turned down a side road to take a different route back to the village, and avoid the van driver.

This way, she passed through Round Ringford, and decided on the spur of the moment to call on Ivy Beasley. If she was in a good mood, perhaps she would have some memories of Ellen’s sister, Martha, and her unfortunate marriage. Just at this moment, Lois had a strong feeling that if she could sort out the mystery of William Cox she would have a good chance of unravelling the tangled mess. Not for the first time, she reflected that it must be more than badgers.

For once, the main street of Ringford was busy. A small gathering of people stood at the bus stop. A Jack Russell terrier wandered down the middle of the road, seemingly belonging to nobody. The vicar pinned a piece of paper to the notice board by the shop, and a woman sat on the top step, blinking at the sun and chatting to an old lady. Lois pulled up outside Miss Beasley’s house, and switched off the engine. Then the old lady turned around, and Lois saw it was Ivy herself. That was that, then. Nothing would persuade Ivy Beasley back into her house if she had decided to take the air. Lois noticed that she did not have a stick with her, and as she took a couple of steps towards Lois, she was walking well. Caught you, Ivy B! Ah, well, not my day, thought Lois, and turned on the engine once more.

“Wait!” It was an imperious voice, and Miss Beasley raised a hand to emphasize the command. Now she was hobbling, and as she approached Lois’s car, grimaced with pain. “What’s the hurry, Mrs. Meade?” she said, breathing heavily. “Have you come to see me?” Lois nodded. “In that case, you can help me up the steps and make me a cup of tea. I think I’ve over reached myself.” Lois obeyed, and as she glanced back to look at the shop-keeper, saw that she was smiling broadly.

Settled in her chair with a cup of tea, Miss Beasley said sharply, “Right, what have you come to see me about? Bill’s not leaving, is he? If so, I shall blame you for not making enough effort to keep him.”

Lois gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. “No, no,” she said. “It’s not about Bill. I was just passing. I’ve been to see Ellen, and she was much more like her old self. She sent her love,” she added, though this was not strictly true.

“Huh! Love’s not much use to me now! What I need is plenty of help. Still, I’m glad to hear the foolish old woman is getting better. Stubborn and stupid, I always tell her, and it doesn’t do, Mrs. Meade. It doesn’t do at all.”

“You’ve been friends for a long time, haven’t you?” Lois said.

“Longer than I like to remember,” said Ivy, draining her cup. “Any more in the pot?”

Lois refilled her cup, and said, “I expect you remember her sister. Martha, was it?”

“Of course I remember Martha. Different as chalk and cheese, those two. Ellen was always the leader, and Martha trailed behind. But she was the pretty one, and William Cox fell for her, not Ellen … who, I might tell you, was keen on him herself! But looks count when you’re young.” Ivy was silent, remembering her own lack of attraction for the opposite sex. “I fancy a biscuit. Over there, in the cupboard. Green tin with cats on it. Bring it here.” Lois once more did as she was bid, and handed the tin to Ivy, who opened it and peered in. “Mm,” she said. “Now I remember what I went to the shop for. Only three left.”

“I won’t have one,” said Lois. “Haven’t offered you one,” snapped Ivy. “But you might go next door and buy a packet for me on your way out. Was there anything else, besides bringing me daft messages from Ellen Biggs?”

“I was interested to hear what you say about the Biggs sisters. Must have been quite a do when Martha and William got married? Was it here in Ringford?”

“Yes, though how that William Cox had the nerve to enter a church, I do not know. Considering …”

“Considering what?”

“Why do you want to know?” Ivy frowned, looking suspiciously at Lois. “Is this something to do with him gone into a home, and the farm being up for sale? Are you working with social services?”

Lois shook her head, and decided to jump in at the deep end. “Just nosey, that’s all.” She smiled. “It sounds like a sad tale, with the Cox family disapproving of Martha, and him not being a very good husband.”

“Good! He was downright bad! Always was bad. Spoilt by his family, and no sense of responsibility. Roving eye, too! He had all the willin’ ones, and some of
those that weren’t willing, so I heard. There was scandal up at the Hall, when Joyce the garden girl produced a baby in amongst the runner beans, and swore it was William Cox who forced her into it. Looked just like Cox, some said, poor little soul.”

“What a louse,” said Lois feelingly. “What on earth made Martha marry him? Was she pregnant too?”

“Dunno,” Ivy said. “Ellen won’t talk about it much. But she was very upset when her sister started lying about bruises. Said she’d banged into a door, tripped over the dog, missed her footing on the stairs. All that kind of nonsense.”

In the silence that followed, Lois wondered if she dare ask one more question. Well, why not? She was a match for Ivy Beasley, wasn’t she? She opened her mouth to speak, but Ivy got in first.

“Time you were going. I’m tired, and I need a sleep before Doris Ashbourne comes down here with her latest gossip. Good day, Mrs. Meade. Remember what I said about Bill,” she added. She leaned her head against a cushion and closed her eyes. Lois took the hint, and as she prepared to lock the front door behind her, heard Ivy shout, “Don’t bother to lock the door. Doris will be down in a minute.”

Lois walked down the garden path, and at the gate met Doris. “Hello, Mrs. Meade,” she said pleasantly. “Been to see Ivy? How is she today?”

“Fine, I would say. But still Miss Beasley!” Lois held open the gate, and Doris walked past her. “By the way,” added Lois, “do you remember Martha Biggs, Ellen’s sister?”

“The one that married a Cox?” Doris’s smile faded. “Couldn’t forget her, could we. Poor woman. Still, money talks, and no more was said after she died. I can’t look at that William Cox without a shiver. Oh, I can hear Ivy shouting,” she added, and smiled again. “Mustn’t keep the boss waiting! Bye, Mrs. Meade. Nice to see you.”

Lois drove off with mounting excitement. What had
Doris meant by “money talks” and “no more was said”? Had old Cox had a hand in her death? And yet, she reminded herself, that time he had given her a cup of tea he had seemed nice enough. She had warmed to him. But then, even old devils know how to turn on the charm.

It was not until she was halfway home that she remembered Ivy’s biscuits. Trouble! But she had been too taken up with the strange news that Ellen had been keen on old Cox too.

A
CONVERSATION IN DOTS AND DASHES

OR
,
MORE
exactly, in short knocks and long scrapes—is a laborious business, and William Cox was tired. He was always tired, and had trouble keeping awake long enough to reply to the message. He knew now that it was old Herbert Everitt from Blackberry Gardens next door. He had tried to concentrate on why both of them should be in this place … this place … where were they? He listened hard to the knocks coming through the wall and heard: “S … T … O.. P. T. … A .. K … I.. N … G. T … H … E.. P. I.. L.. L.”

What pill? Cox shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. The pill …? Ah! The pill that came with his morning cup of tea! But hadn’t someone said it was necessary? The doctor had prescribed it. He could not clearly remember. Was it when he’d woken up from a long sleep and discovered himself in this … hotel? Hospital? His lids were heavy, and he struggled to stay awake to sort things out. His last thought before succumbing to sleep was that he must stop taking the pill.

T
HIRTY
-T
WO

W
HEN
L
OIS RETURNED TO THE HOSPITAL NEXT
day, she was greeted at the ward door by the ward Sister. “Ah, Mrs. Meade, have you come to see Ellen?” Lois nodded, trying to look past the bulky figure to catch sight of Ellen. “Well, perhaps you could come with me to my office for just a minute or two? Thank you.”

Lois followed obediently. “Please sit down,” said Sister, pointing to a chair. “Now, I know you popped in to see her yesterday …”

“Yes, and I found her very well, and quite her old self,” Lois said. “Has something happened?”

“Well, yes. During the night, the nurse checked on Ellen and saw that something was wrong. It seems she had a slight stroke. Nothing that she won’t recover from, but she is an old lady and it will take a while. For the moment, we are keeping her calm and quiet, and so if you could perhaps come back in a few days’ time, I am sure you will be able to have a few minutes with her.” Lois nodded acceptance, and Sister resumed, “After you had gone yesterday, the nurse reported that Ellen was very excited and a little disturbed. Perhaps something was said that agitated her?” Lois said nothing. “Well, she’s in good hands, and will, I am sure, be very pleased to see you again soon. Now, I have to leave you, but you know the way out? Good morning, Mrs. Meade.”

Dismissed, thought Lois. She had felt sick with guilt when the Sister implied she had contributed to Ellen’s stroke. But Ellen had seemed so well and cheerful! It was
as if she was about to unload something which had been on her mind for a long time, and Lois had been delighted that Ellen had come to the decision herself, without any prompting, or being led to the subject of William Cox. Maybe their conversation had nothing to do with the stroke. After all, Ellen was a good old age. Oh, please God, Lois said to herself, don’t let her lose her marbles. Lois acknowledged that it was a rotten thought, and selfish and despicable, but she still had hopes of getting vital information from Ellen Biggs.

L
OIS WAS BACK IN
F
ARNDEN JUST IN TIME FOR THE
weekly meeting of New Brooms. She felt frustrated and irritable. When she walked into her office and found all but Ben Cullen there already, she felt even more irritable. No time, now, for useful chat and pleasant togetherness. “Morning all,” she said shortly, and there were answering murmurs. “All here already, I see. I hope you haven’t skimped on this morning’s clients.” She could have bitten her tongue out, looking at the shocked faces in front of her.

Bill was the first to speak. “Oh, well, Mrs. M,” he said in a steely voice, “we’ve all had a few drinks in the pub before coming on here. Excuse us if we’re not too quick on the uptake.”

BOOK: Secrets on Saturday
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