Small Town Shock (Some Very English Murders Book 1) (15 page)

“Haven’t I been through enough?” Mary wailed, and now
everyone’s eyes were upon them. She started to grab her cards and bits of
paper, pulling them towards her in a mess of glitter and loose pictures,
stuffing them into a carrier bag. “And now you throw that … that …
woman
into my face again. Her!”

Ahh. Well, this has answered one question, Penny thought
miserably. Eleanor and Mary were no longer friends.

It probably was not the right time to ask when and how they
had argued.

Mary slammed the final handful of awful cards into the
plastic bag and punched a hole right through it, causing the paper to spill to
the floor as she stood up. This prompted a fresh round of wailing, and Ginni
stalked forward to take command of the situation, her kitten heels clacking
ominously over the hard floor.

Penny shrunk down in her chair as the situation dissolved
around her. Ginni glared at Penny, before turning to Mary and asking if she was
all right, and did she need a glass of water.

“It’s all too much for me!” Mary wailed. “All I wanted …”

“There, there. It’s okay.” Ginni patted Mary and shot a
slit-eyed death stare of warning at Penny. She began to put her sketches back
into her portfolio case.

“I’m so sorry. I seem to have said the wrong thing. I
really didn’t mean any harm.” She really did feel awful. Mary’s distress was
quite genuine, but it was odd that it was only the mention of Eleanor that set
her off; she had talked about David’s death with perfect equanimity.

“Yes. This is a calm and peaceful group,” Ginni said.

Penny tensed. “I think I’d better go. Again, I am so sorry.
If there is anything I can do…”

“You’ve already said you won’t take me to the craft fair,”
Mary said, pausing her sobbing for a moment to dig at her.

“It’s that I can’t rather than won’t…”

“I still won’t be able to go, will I? After all I’ve been
through. Oh, everything is so difficult for me…”

“You’ve had a nasty shock,” Ginni said. “It’s been a trying
time for you. We all understand.” She angled her broad shoulder to exclude
Penny from the conversation.

Penny took the hint, and left.

* * * *

She had annoyed Drew by wanting to ask questions, and now
his warning was proved justified. Cath wasn’t happy. Warren was, well, just
Warren. Ed had been upset by her probing, and now Mary – and the whole craft
group, and by extension the entire community of Upper Glenfield – were furious
with her.

Only Francine was her unlikely ally.

She should stop asking questions. She knew that.

Give it up.

Quit.

I am not a quitter, she said to herself as she stamped
home, unwisely given that her ankle was still sore. She felt hot and angry, and
a little ashamed that she had upset so many people.

But the fact was that a man was dead. Dead, she reminded
herself. So if some folks got upset, surely it was justified?

She was hazy about the ethics of it.

Penny stopped suddenly, as a new thought hit her.

She was feeling full of energy once again. Her lethargy and
her unsettled ennui that had plagued her for so long was gone. She was on fire
once more. She was alive.

She had made lists in her head, and organised her time, and
not once had she felt overwhelmed by it all. She hadn’t shied away from
essential tasks. She hadn’t fallen into negative thoughts or patterns of
behaviour.

This, then, was progress. Her new hair style, her cottage, her
motorbike, her dog, her renewal of her art skills – yes. And it was all tied up
in the murder case. It gave her a purpose.

It is my investigation, she decided. I need to find out who
killed David Hart for
myself
as much as anyone else. Yes. There it is,
plain and simple. It’s a selfish motive. At least I’m being honest.

Which is more than can be said for everyone else I’ve
spoken to, she though sourly. There was a lot in Mary’s reactions that simply
didn’t add up.

Mary Radcliffe was now a prime suspect.

Penny flopped onto the sofa and put her feet up on the low
coffee table. Her ankle wasn’t hurting, exactly, but it was letting her know
that she needed to take care. Kali jumped up and lay alongside her, her head
resting on Penny’s thigh. Penny absently stroked her head and ears, and Kali
started up with the low rumbling that she’d found quite disconcerting in the
beginning. Now she simply considered it Rottweiler Purring.

She wanted someone to talk to. She could call Francine, as
she had promised, but she was far away. She wanted someone there, right now,
who knew about the case. Drew, or even Cath. But they both thought she was
being silly to think of herself as an investigator. And Cath couldn’t condone
it from a professional stand-point.

And Drew was worried about her getting more involved. After
all, such things were far better left to the police.

“They don’t understand,” she told Kali. “Okay. So neither
do you.”

Kali rolled her eyes up at Penny, hopeful that the speech
that she just heard as noise predicated treats. It did not.

“Everyone’s grief is different but there was something not
right about Mary’s reaction, surely?” she mused. “Or am I reading too much into
it? She’s hiding something, I’m sure of it. So she was sacked from the surgery
and she likes to gossip. And everyone was avoiding her at the craft group.
Usually people like to have a gossip. So why isn’t she more popular?”

Kali closed her eyes.

“I bet any amount of money she was sacked for gossiping.
What a wonderful, terrible job for a gossip… as that man said, the surgery
should have known better than to employ someone like her! She had access to the
intimate details of all the people in Upper Glenfield…” Penny shuddered. “What
a disaster.”

“So,” she continued, in spite of Kali’s disinterest, “what
other trouble has her gossiping got her into?”

She decided she wouldn’t be able to go back to the craft
group again, which was a shame as she was enjoying her rediscovery of sketching
and drawing.

“This was still a successful day,” she told Kali. “I know
more than I did before, so it has to count. And I’m feeling less stressed,
which is the most important thing.” She thought she probably ought to dig out
the blood pressure monitor that she had been given. She was supposed to track
her statistics but she’d found the figures too scary. Now, though, it would be
interesting to see if she was really improving.

She closed her eyes and together, she and her dog began to
drift into sleep.

Only to be interrupted by a tentative knock at the door.
Kali leaped down and went into full-on bark-the-walls-apart mode. Penny’s heart
thudded and she made her way slowly to the door. Was it Mary, come to continue
the argument? Or even Ginni, who had seemed like one of those pleasant country
women who were built entirely from steel girders and determination? Ginni was
clearly of the stock that had flown unarmed spitfires through the night from
airfield to airfield in the war. No. Ginni would have hammered more loudly.

The knock came again. Penny flattened herself against the
door and wished she had a spyhole or some glass in the solid wood. “Who is it?”

“It’s Drew! Are you okay?”

“Sure. Hang on.” She let him in and he stared at her in
curiosity.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Yes, why?”

“Just that you wanted to know who it was before you opened
the door. Are you expecting trouble?”

“Oh … yes. No. I mean. You’re not trouble. Come on in.”

“What have you been up to?” he asked her, following her
along the default route of front door – hallway – kitchen – kettle.

“Nothing. I’m just relaxing.”

“The last time we spoke, you were asking me about Mary and
Eleanor. Are you still poking around, asking questions?” Drew asked.

Oh, goodness, she thought. Since then I’ve talked with Ed
and found out his secret, and caused an argument at the craft group. Should I
tell him any of this?

“You warned me not to poke into people’s lives…” she said
cautiously.

“I did. I think it could be dangerous.” He leaned on the
table and folded his arms. He smiled crookedly, but his eyes were serious.
“Although I bet you haven’t listened to me, have you? I want to tell you to
stay out of it but I have the feeling you won’t. You’re a grown woman and can
make her own decisions … but I wish you’d listen to advice from a local. Leave
it well alone.”

Suddenly it occurred to her that
Drew
might be a
suspect. Why else would he be so keen to get her to leave it? She narrowed her
eyes at him. “Do you know how to electrocute someone?”

He blurted out a laugh. “I know exactly what you’re
thinking! No, but I could bludgeon someone to death with a hammer. Or poison
them. I’m pretty good with wild plants.”

“Eww. Must you?”

“Sorry. What you’ve got to understand, though, Penny, is
that people don’t like change around here. If you want to fit in, and I am sure
that you do, you have to come in slowly and let it happen bit by bit. Not
blunder in and upset everyone.”

“I’m not blundering,” she protested, feeling her cheeks
flush as she remembered the craft group. If that wasn’t blundering, what was?
“Not everyone dislikes change. You, perhaps…” she said, tailing off. Yes. Maybe
it was Drew who didn’t like change.

He shrugged. “It’s not about me.”

Oh, but it was. “What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t
you be working?” She was suspicious. “Did you come to tell me to stop asking
questions again? I got the message, all right?”

He averted his gaze. Something was up. “Now then, about
Mary.”

“What about Mary?” She knew, even as she asked it, trying
to sound innocent, that the rumours must be flashing around.

“This is a small town, Penny. You can’t cause uproar in the
craft group without people talking, you know.”

“Oh no.” She pulled out a wooden chair and sank onto it.
“You shouldn’t listen to gossip. I think you told me that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So, do you care to tell me
first-hand?”

“Look. I have been sketching and drawing, and you know it, so
it made sense for me to join the craft group, okay? It was perfectly innocent.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And I got talking to Mary. Or she got talking to me. She
was full of gossip. Why do people avoid her?”

“Because she’s full of gossip, I suppose.”

“People like to gossip.”

“It’s different with Mary,” Drew said. “I can’t really put
my finger on it. Maybe it’s the delight she takes in passing on bad news. Like
it’s a power thing for her? I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve always avoided
her. I can’t help feeling that if she gossips to me about someone, then she’ll
happily gossip
about
me, too.”

“That’s true. Anyway, so I accidentally mentioned Eleanor. Totally
accidentally! I knew that Mary and Eleanor were either good friends, or they
used to be. And it turned out that they
used
to be. They definitely
aren’t friends now.”

Drew rolled his eyes. “So what happened between them?”

“Aha! You see! Curiosity is a powerful thing!”

“No, no. I’m not getting drawn into this.” He waved his
palms in the air. “I don’t want to know.”

“Too late,” Penny said in triumph. “You are already part of
this. And I don’t know what happened between them because things got out of
hand and I could hardly ask, but don’t you see – whatever happened, it could be
important. David’s lover and his sister-in-law, once good friends but now
enemies… it’s vital that I find out!”

“It’s not vital that you find out. It’s vital that you tell
the police.”

“They’ll dismiss it as silly women being silly gossips. I
think I need to talk to Eleanor.”

“I hesitate to ask,” Drew said, “but how are you going to
do that? Find out what groups she goes to, and infiltrate them, too?”

“I have thought about that. But I need to strike while the
trail is still hot. I’m going to go to her house. I’ve found out where she
lives.” In fact, she had not really thought it through until the words came
tumbling out of her mouth. Oh, she thought, so that’s what I’m going to do.
Jolly good.

“How did you find out where she lives?”

“By asking. I knew that she lived on the Shires estate from
Agatha. Finding out the house was simple. Ask anyone while you stand in a queue
to buy potatoes and they’ll tell you.”

Drew shook his head. “You’re going to turn up on her
doorstep? No. I think I preferred the infiltration idea better.”

“Seriously. Maybe I just need to be more upfront with
people.”

“You are naïve. No, you are mad.”

Penny was shocked, and a little hurt. “Perhaps,” she said
mulishly. “Or maybe I think that being honest is the best policy. Anyway, I’m
going to have my dinner and then go over. Would you like to stay for some
food?”

“Dinner?” he said with a smile. “It’s teatime.”

“Oh, my southern ways. Seriously. It’s only frozen pizza
but there is enough to share.”

He shook his head and looked sad. “I don’t think I should.
Are you dead set on going to see Eleanor?”

“I am.”

“I think you are making a huge mistake.”

“I know,” she said.

“I’d better go.”

“Drew, please…”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Penny. I can’t stand by and watch
you make a fool of yourself. You worry me. If you won’t listen to me, I need to
go. I don’t really want to be a part of this.”

“You don’t have to be.”

He shook his head and made for the door. He looked unhappy;
unwilling, almost. “If I stay, I am part of it. Think about this, okay?”

He left, and she sat very still, listening to him let
himself out. Kali barked once at the door closing, then rushed back into the
kitchen to lick Penny’s hands.