stirred in the back seat.
“He never done nothing,” she said in a small voice. “So there. Never touched me. Well, not like…you know. Had my own bedroom. It was nice. Clean, Mum, in case you were wondering.” There was a pause and Lois and Derek looked at each other, but said nothing. “We went for a walk. It was magic. And the dogs didn’t even have to have no leads…I wish I could’ve stayed there for ever!” Then she was crying as if her heart would break. Derek drove on in silence, and Lois, for once, could think of nothing to say.
¦
The police accepted that they wished to take no action and Keith Simpson repeated how pleased he was that it had all turned out reasonably well. “She’s probably had enough of a fright not to try anything like that again,” he said to Lois.
She agreed, but as she put down the telephone, she muttered, “I’m not so sure.”
Nurse Surfleet had called later, anxious and a little annoyed. “When you didn’t show up,” she said, “I naturally thought something was wrong. You always let me know, otherwise…” Gillian Surfleet had indeed been anxious, but for herself rather than Lois. There was an unpleasant atmosphere in the village, very like the ominous presage of a storm. Lois had not told her the truth, but invented a really bad headache.
“Even I get ill sometimes,” she’d said shortly.
The remains of the day were spent sorting out Josie’s clothes, retrieving the boys from her mother and attempting to fix her mind back on the routine of house and family.
“School tomorrow for you, young lady,” Derek said to Josie. “If you can go gadding round the country, you can damn well survive a day at school.” He was still angry, but Lois could see he was thawing. Josie kept out of his way until bedtime, but ventured a quick goodnight kiss on her father’s cheek. “Night,” he said gruffly. “Tomorrow’s another day.”
¦
As Lois parked outside the vicarage on the Thursday, she reflected that although she had had one of the worst times of her life, here she was, back at work, greeting the Reverend White, just as if nothing had happened. Her hands trembled a little as she dusted and polished, and while she had the vacuum cleaner going, Peter White suddenly appeared, yelling at her that he was going to the shop. She jumped like a shot rabbit and switched off the machine.
“Sorry, Vicar. Startled me.”
Peter White looked at her pale face, at the black smudges under her eyes and said, “Anything wrong, Lois? You know you can talk to me.” Even as he said it, he doubted very much that she would confide in him.
To his surprise, she slumped down in his desk chair. “I wouldn’t mind a quick chat, if you’ve got time,” she said. The shabby familiarity of Peter White, his air of being defeated before he began, suddenly made it easy for her. Her earlier suspicions of him faded. He was just what he seemed to be, an ordinary bloke, not very good at his job, but with his heart in the right place. She told him the story of Josie and Melvyn without a pause. She did not include Derek’s defection, or her nasty experience with Professor Barratt, but stuck to the terror she had felt when Josie, aged fourteen and very vulnerable, had gone missing. She told him about the long journey north, and the relief in finding Josie, but tempered with fears of what the pair might have been up to. “According to Josie – ” she said, now almost talking to herself, unaware that Peter White had moved across his study and was perched on a window seat staring at her intently – “and I believe her though Derek doesn’t, nothing wrong happened between them. He’s a strange lad, that Melvyn. Not like the other kids at school. Old for his years.”
As she came to the end, there was a small silence, and then Peter White said, “Lois dear, there is something you should know.” He was very serious and she turned to look at him enquiringly. She had expected soothing words, assurances that would set her mind at rest. But what he said next was far from soothing. “I have come across the Hallhouse family in the past. There was gossip there a while ago. It might be as well to keep Josie away from Melvyn.”
“What kind of gossip?” said Lois sharply.
“It was the father…well…he’s very strict…belongs to some bigoted religious sect.”
Oh, so that’s it, thought Lois, and relaxed a little. Vicar has it in for them because they’re not Church of England. But it wasn’t that, she soon learned.
“The wife is a very good woman, apparently,” he continued. “Does all kinds of charity work in the town and the boys love her dearly. But there was gossip about the father. Seems he was a bit more strict than we’re used to these days and the young ones were very afraid of him, so the story went. It was just local gossip, but I did hear some rather unpleasant rumours about violence and aggressive behaviour.”
“Well, what’s that got to do with Melvyn?” Lois asked and found herself thinking defensively that whatever else, he seemed one of the most gentle lads she had met. None of the crude belligerence of the other kids on the estate. He handled Josie as if she was a china doll.
“Probably nothing,” Peter White said slowly. “I just thought I’d mention it. You know what they say about violence breeding violence.”
“Oh right, yes, thanks, Vicar,” she said.
“Derek has threatened Melvyn with God knows what if he comes near Josie again. Looks like Josie’ll need watching, too. Mind you,” she added, “Derek gave them such a blasting I don’t think they’ll try anything on again.”
Peter White’s expression did not change. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” he said quietly. “Don’t forget Melvyn is a young man in many ways. Not a child any more. Not like Josie. Now, Lois,” he added with unusual confidence, “it is time for coffee for both of us. And you are going to sit down with me in the kitchen, whether you like it or not!”
Ten minutes before Lois was due to leave the vicarage, there was a knock at the door. She heard the vicar open it and then the unmistakably brisk tones of Nurse Surfleet. “Just delivering these parish council papers,” she said. “I’d like you to have a good look at them before the meeting, if poss.” Lois eavesdropped idly. She wasn’t really interested, still brooding about Josie. Then she heard her name. “Is Lois still with you?” Gillian Surfleet said, and then the vicar came to the foot of the stairs and called.
“Just a little word, Lois,” said the nurse, when the vicar had shown them both into the sitting room and shut the door. “I just thought I should warn you.”
Oh God, thought Lois, not another sodding warning!
Gillian Surfleet was continuing, “It seems Professor Barratt has been saying to one or two people – I heard him myself in the shop – in a jokey way that we should all beware of Lois Meade, the snooping house cleaner. “Lock up your papers!” I heard him say to Dr Rix. The doctor was buying stamps and looked very surprised.”
Lois was stunned. How bloody dare he? She resisted the impulse to rush out and tackle the Professor. Instead, she asked, “What did Dr Rix say?”
“Snubbed him good and proper,” Gillian Surfleet said. “Told him you had an exemplary record and had been a good friend to his family for some time.”
“And what did he have to say to that?”
“Unsquashable, that one. Just laughed, said one of his stupid Latin things, and added that the doctor couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned. Then he left the shop, still laughing!”
Gillian patted Lois on the arm, told her not to worry, but just be a bit cautious, then she was gone, saying she had to rush off to Fletching on an errand of mercy. Lois’s first reaction was to go at once and sort out that disgusting Malcolm Barratt. What did he think he was playing at? When she calmed down, she began to think more rationally. There must be some reason for his actions.
Was he scared she would make public his threatening behaviour? Was he frightened of something else, something she might have discovered about him if she had indeed been shuffling through his papers? Better do nothing, she decided finally. Give him enough rope and he could quite possibly hang himself.
¦
The rest of the week and the weekend at home with Derek and the kids passed in an unnatural calm. When they spoke to each other, it was about trivial household matters. And at the Baers’ on Friday, neither Dallas nor Evangeline had talked much to Lois, beyond the usual greetings, instructions and polite enquiries about her family. Lois had noticed that there were no papers on Dallas’s desk. This was unusual. There were always piles of papers and an expensive onyx desk set. That was still there, but the trays of papers had gone. So, the distinguished professor had been talking to Dallas, too. Well, what did it matter? If Dallas Baer had anything to hide, he was sly
