telly!”
Gran shrugged. “All right, then,” she said. “Give it here. I’ll open it. Somethin’s got to be done. You and Derek can’t go on like you are.”
“I told you…it’s none of your – ”
Gran interrupted sharply. “Now look here, Lois. I’m still your mother, an’ if I see you making a mess of things, I shall tell you. You can chuck me out after, if you want.”
Lois was silent, thinking rapidly. Mum was right. They couldn’t go on without it being sorted out. “But that letter might have nothing to do with me and Derek,” she said weakly.
They prised open the envelope with great care. It was poor quality, and the glue did not hold for long. As they unfolded the sheet of grubby, lined paper, Lois saw the anonymous capitals. “Is it the same as that one you saw on…” she began, and then stopped in horror. “WATCH THE COUNCIL BARN, MISTER. SEE THE SHOW. THE COP AND YOUR WIFE AT IT. WORTH A LOOK.” The words swam in front of her eyes, and she reached out to grab the back of a chair.
“Lois! Lois!” Gran rushed round the table and caught Lois as she collapsed. She managed to get her to a chair, and then swiftly fetched a glass of cold water.
¦
An hour later, Gran looked anxiously out of the window as Lois slammed her car door and drove off with grating gears. There was nothing she could do to stop her. It had taken only a few minutes for Lois to get herself together and telephone Cowgill. “Usual place,” Gran heard her say, “and no, for God’s sake, no, not the barn. Alibone. And yes, now!” Then the back door had slammed, and Lois started her car.
There was, after all, something Gran could do, and she did not hesitate. She found the number in Lois’s address book and dialled Derek on his mobile, praying that he would answer.
? Weeping on Wednesday ?
Twenty-Two
It began to rain as Lois parked off the road in the entrance to Alibone Woods. In her hurry to get away she had forgotten her boots, and now squelched along the muddy path towards the meeting place. She couldn’t see Cowgill’s car, and was working up a good fury when she saw the tall figure of the inspector standing by the usual tree.
“How did you get here?” she said unceremoniously, and Cowgill saw that she was shaking. “Calm down, Lois,” he said. “I found another place to park, not so obvious. Don’t forget Edward Abraham might know these woods.”
Lois stared at him. She had forgotten Abraham. Of course, Cowgill would think it was about him she’d phoned. Some urgent revelation. Well, hard luck. She pulled the letter out of her pocket and handed it over to him without a word.
He took it carefully, holding it by one corner. “Ah,” he said. “So that’s it.”
“Yes, that bloody well is it!” said Lois. “That’s the end of it. No more playing detectives for me. I’m in deep trouble with Derek, and you’ve got to put it right. I don’t want to see you any more, ever again, and don’t get in touch. No phone calls, no lyin’ in wait round corners. Just leave us alone!”
She stared at Cowgill, but he wasn’t even listening to her. Not looking at her, either. His eyes were on the track behind them, and she turned around. “Oh, God,” she said quietly.
Along the track, head down against the driving rain, trudged Derek. His head was bare, and the rain had soaked his hair so that it flattened to his scalp. Lois and Cowgill did not move. When Derek reached them, Lois could not be sure that the water coursing down Derek’s cheeks was rain. The misery in his eyes made it more likely that they were tears. He stopped and looked at Cowgill.
“Well,” he said, “get talking. You first, then Lois.”
¦
High up in a tall fir, yards away from the three, a hunched figure crouched in the branches. Approaching footsteps crunching the bracken had warned him. He had always been good at climbing trees, and he felt quite safe, hidden from view. As he heard the voices, one measured and calm, one loud and angry, he smiled. The woman was silent, and that was satisfactory. All going to plan then. He reached into his pocket and took out a mint. He brushed off the grey fluff, and popped it into his mouth. He’d missed lunch, and was hungry. Soon be time to be getting back, as soon as the coast was clear. They were moving away now, and he could no longer hear their voices.
¦
“Now, just a minute,” said Cowgill. “This is getting us nowhere.”
Derek turned on Lois. “I’d have said you two’ve bin getting quite a long way lately,” he accused, “so why’ve you got nothin’ to say, Lois?”
Lois narrowed her eyes and stared angrily at him. When she spoke, her voice was dangerously quiet. “I’ve got plenty to say to you, Derek Meade,” she said, “and most of it in private. But this is for now. What bloody right have you got accusing me of having it off on the quiet with someone else? Have you forgotten that tart, Gloria Hathaway? Because I haven’t. Forgiven but not forgotten, Derek. Never would have brought it up again if you hadn’t put your stupid great foot in it here.”
Derek flushed. He was beginning to feel a fool, but would not back down until he’d got the truth.
“Anyway,” continued Lois, “I’m not walking round here in the rain another minute. We got to sort this out, and the best place for it is in your office, Inspector Cowgill. And,” she added, seeing his expression, “it’ll not be a waste of time. Because if you don’t convince this idiot that there’s absolutely bloody nothing going on between us, then I’ll blow everything you’ve told me about the Abrahams, an’ I’ll warn Enid and she can warn her brother, and you’ll never sodding well catch him!”
Derek stared at her. “What’s all this?” he said.
“Come on, then,” said Cowgill, “I’ll meet you there. You can park in the public car park opposite, then come round the back of the station and I’ll let you in. Don’t want you being spotted.”
“No thanks,” said Derek. “We’ll come in the front door, not the bloody tradesman’s entrance. If Lois wants to sneak round the back, well, fine. You’ll find me in reception.”
They drove in convoy – a ridiculous convoy, comical under other circumstances – into Tresham and duly found their way to Cowgill’s office. He had had time to work out his strategy, and began by ordering coffee for them all.
“Now then, Derek,” he said.
“Who said you could call me ‘Derek’?” The tone was belligerent, and Cowgill sighed.
“Oh, don’t be stupid, Derek,” Lois said.
“Well, shall I call him ‘Hunter’?” replied Derek, rounding on her.
“Now, now, it is unimportant what anybody calls anybody,” Cowgill said. “As far as I’m concerned, there is one big issue. Derek has had anonymous letters suggesting Lois and I are having an affair. It is my responsibility – since I persuaded Lois to work for me – to convince Derek that this is rubbish of the first order.”
“Go on, then,” said Derek.
Cowgill had marshalled his thoughts, and spoke at length. He didn’t know that Derek had already made up his mind. Lois’s reaction in the woods, her outburst and threat to warn Enid…
Bloody hell, said Derek to himself as Cowgill droned on, hadn’t he lived with her all these years?…
He knew when she was telling the truth, and that snipe about Gloria Hathaway had brought him up short. Still, he’d never liked the sound of this Cowgill bloke, and he might as well let him go through his paces. He also thought Lois should suffer a bit, like he had for the last weeks. If she hadn’t started this daft business of playing private eye, they’d not be sitting here listening to a top cop talking to them about their marriage.
Hunter Cowgill finally stopped and looked at Lois and Derek, sitting yards apart. They stared back at him and said nothing at all. What more could he say?
Then Derek stood up. He walked across to Lois and held out his hand. “Right then,” he said. “Best be gettin’ home.” There was a fractional pause, and then Lois took his hand. “Silly bugger,” she said, and they both left the room without a backward glance.
Cowgill was left with three cooling cups of coffee and a feeling of desolation. It would have been much easier
