Murder on Monday

continued. “Doesn’t tell me everything…”

“Like what?” said her mother simply.

“Like he did a job in Long Farnden that he didn’t tell me anything about. Not a squeak. And he always lets me know where he is, in case there’s an emergency with the kids or anything.”

“What kind of a job?” said her mother, frowning.

“You may well ask,” said Lois, and then, as if deciding she’d said quite enough, went off into the garden, where she began taking in washing that was still as wet as when she had put it out. “Waste of time pegging it out,” she said on returning. “Put it in the drier for me, Mum.”

¦

So, end of conversation about Derek, thought her mother. Still, it’s a start. She stayed for half an hour, drank a cup of tea and attacked the cake. There was not much left when the boys had had their fill and Lois put the rest in a tin, saying they must leave some for their father, since it was made specially for him. After her mother had gone, and only Josie was left in the kitchen, an uncomfortable silence fell.

“What was that about, Mum?” Josie trod carefully, well aware that she was on thin ice.

“What was what about?”

“You know, that stuff about Dad and not telling you about a job in Farnden?”

“Nothing to do with you,” said Lois briskly. “Now go on upstairs and get going on your homework.”

“No, well, it’s just that Dad said something to me about it at the time,” said Josie.

“What?”

“I remember him saying something about that old spinster in Farnden and how she was a pain in the arse.”

“Sounds about right,” said Lois bitterly.

“Well, I expect he just forgot to mention it,” said Josie hopefully.

Lois looked at her and felt so angry with Derek that it was a good thing he didn’t choose to come in at that moment. All this anxiety had spread to the kids and it was his stupid fault. “Expect you’re right,” she said to Josie. “We’re all so busy dashing here and there, there’s never time for a proper talk. Go on, love, get your books. Dad’ll help you if you get stuck.”

The confrontation had to wait until the boys and Josie had finally gone to bed and were sure to be asleep. Derek was dozing in front of the television and Lois folded away the newspaper as she steeled herself to begin.

“Derek! Wake up!”

“Not asleep,” he mumbled. “Just thinking…”

“Well, think with your eyes open then,” she said sharply.

He opened them and looked at her. “What now, Lois?” he said wearily.

“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…”

? Murder on Monday ?

Twenty-Nine

Tuesday 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