“Yes!” butted in Derek, “oil!…not creosote!”
“I
Derek glared at her. She had never seen him so angry. “
“I said,” Lois replied, her voice icy, “why are you so worried if you’ve got nothing to hide? And I said that because Cowgill produced something else. His reason for asking. He said you’d come to their notice because Nurse Surfleet told them you’d done work for Gloria Hathaway. Been there several days, coming and going.” Derek looked as if she’d struck him. Then Lois’s strength suddenly gave out and tears began to roll down her cheeks. “You never said, Derek. Why didn’t you say?” She looked at him pleadingly, and stretched out a hand towards him.
He didn’t take it. He glared at her and stood up violently, shoving the chair back so hard that it toppled backwards on to the floor with a crash. “I’m going for a pint,” he said in a tight voice. “I need it. Be back later.”
“Derek!
But he’d gone and Lois was left alone in her small kitchen, listening to the sounds of the boys quarrelling overhead and Josie’s music turned up full blast.
? Murder on Monday ?
Twenty-Six
The Reverend Peter White had had a bad night. He’d dreamed of women, one after another, and the dreams had not been innocent. A failure, that’s what I am, he told himself as he sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. Too scared to have a proper relationship, and too scared to do my job properly. He forced himself to face the fact that his advice was never sought, nobody ever came to him when they were in trouble, and no one wanted to confide in him. He actively discouraged it, he admitted. If even the smallest approach was made, he changed the subject and got out fast. What a failure! He should probably resign.
He stood up, hearing a car pulling up in his driveway. It was Lois. Of course, it was a Lois day. He made an effort to pull himself together and managed a fairly cheery “Good morning,” as she came into the kitchen. To his surprise she did not answer. “Lois?” he said, peering anxiously at her.
“Oh, yes, morning, Vicar,” she said absently, and went to the cupboard to get her things.
“Is something wrong, my dear?” he said. Here it was again, that shrinking feeling, not really wanting to know. But facing up to the truth had cleared his head and maybe here was another chance. “Anything wrong, my dear?” he repeated, but Lois shook her head.
“Just a bit tired,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” said Peter White and ordered her to sit down while he made a cup of coffee. His unusually firm tone took her by surprise, so she sat down, brush and dustpan in hand. He took them from her gently, and set a steaming mug in front of her. “Chocolate biscuit?” he said and without waiting for an answer, put two on a small plate in front of her. It was his turn to play mother, he thought wryly.
He sat down again, sipped his own coffee and waited. He usually made sure he did not wait long enough, but this morning was different. Here was Lois, his friend, obviously miserable. He waited.
After a few gulps Lois spoke. “It’s the murder, isn’t it?” she said. “It’s getting to everybody. Even me and I don’t even live in Farnden.”
“Everybody?” said Peter White. It was certainly getting to him.
“All the houses I go to,” Lois said, head bent. She kept her eyes fixed on her hands, unwilling to look him in the eye, in case he should get out of her the real reason for her misery. Derek had come home late last night, drunk and morose. He’d clambered heavily into bed without speaking, turned his back on her and gone instantly to sleep. Or pretended to. And then this morning, he’d been up early and away in his van before breakfast, snouting out to the kids that he had a long day ahead and would see them at teatime.
“All the people, the Rixes, the Barratts and Baers, even Nurse Surfleet.” Lois shivered involuntarily when she thought of Gillian’s duplicity. “They’ve all changed. All edgy and suspicious. Nobody trusts anybody any more. The whole village is under a cloud, if you ask me,” she said. “It’s enough to make me give up.”
Peter White frowned. “Gracious, Lois,” he said. “You mustn’t do that. What would we do without you? We must just soldier on and hope it all comes to an end very soon.” Not brilliant, he said to himself. Soldier on? Lois was in considerable distress and this was all he could think of to comfort her.
Vicar could be right, thought Lois. Cowgill probably knows a lot more than he’s told me. And anyway, it’s too late now. I’ve done the damage and Derek is in trouble with the police and he hates me. No, giving up would be no help now. She stood up and rinsed the mugs under the tap, turning them up on the rack to drain. “I expect you’re right,” she said. “It’ll be finished soon, and then we’ll all forget it and get on with our lives.”
As she took up her cleaning things, she felt a sudden lift of spirits. It was all a storm in a teacup. Derek would be cleared by the police, get back his jacket with the oily stain, and be her loving husband again. “Thanks, anyway,” she said to Peter White, who remained sitting disconsolately at the table. “All part of your job, helping, I expect,” she said. She managed a laugh and was surprised at the relieved smile flooding Peter White’s face.
“It’s not an easy job, Lois,” he said, looking up at her. “Some of us are naturals – seem born to be Christ’s servants.” Lois winced. She hoped he wasn’t going to start preaching to her. Still, better listen in case anything interesting turned up. “Did you always want to be a parson?” she asked casually. From past experience she knew that he hated personal conversations and was quite likely to stalk off to the privacy of his study. She would have to tread very carefully.
However, this morning, Peter White was in a different mood, and he shook his head. “Gracious no,” he said. “My dad was in the army, and I always assumed I’d join up too, when I was old enough. Cadets at school, and all that kind of thing. Camp in the summer, drilling in the school hall. I loved it and he was so proud.”
“So what happened?” Lois leaned against the sink. She felt tired from worry and the lack of sleep and was glad of this moment’s rest, a chance to listen.
“He left us,” Peter White said baldly. “Walked out when I was thirteen. Turned out he’d had loads of girlfriends and finally ran off with his sergeant’s wife. Got the boot from the army, of course, and that was the last we saw of him. I was an only child and Mum relied on me to be the man of the house. She kept on saying that. I was so disgusted with him, so knew I’d never follow him into the army, if that’s the kind of man they turned out.”
“But the Church?” said Lois. “Why that?”
She saw his face shut down suddenly and he became a different person. “Why not, Lois?” he said in a cold voice, standing up and opening the door for her to go through. She felt an unexpected shiver of anxiety as she passed close by him. “It would be too hard to explain,” he said, as she went upstairs.
What was so hard to explain? That shiver made her realize she would have to be on her guard with them all. Hunter Cowgill was not joking. She heard the study door close, and was left to speculate as she changed the sheets, trying not to notice anything untoward.
An only child with a deserted mother, she pondered. Father spreading it about and buggering off. No wonder the bloke had problems! Rotten parents do a lot of damage, one way and another. God, he was mixed up! Just the sort to…Her thoughts were interrupted by a terrible noise and as blue smoke rose up from the vacuum, she switched it off quickly. All I need this morning, she cursed. She forgot about Peter White’s troubles and was reminded inexorably of her own. Derek wasn’t being much of a parent at the moment. If anything happened between her and Derek to damage their kids, she would kill him.
? Murder on Monday ?
Twenty- Seven
Friday, Lois’s day at the Baers, and she had been sorely tempted to stay at home. There had been no opportunity to challenge Derek the previous evening. He’d come home late again and gone up to bed early, soon after Josie, saying he was dead tired. This morning, he had grunted at her when he could not avoid
