if he’d never met Lois. Crimes would have been solved without her, and his dull, respectable marriage been enough. But the sight of her, trouble as she was, lifted his day. He hated to think he might never speak to her again. Also, on a more professional level, he realized that he now had no undertaking from Lois that she would keep to herself what he had told her, nor did he know whether she would continue to work with him. He sighed again, and leaned back in his chair, his eyes shut. He had work to do. Thinking work. Time passed, and he was following a convoluted train of thought when he heard his door open and a voice addressing him.
“Shall I take these away, sir?”
He nodded, without opening his eyes. If he concentrated hard, the girl would go away without the usual exchange of pleasantries. He heard cups rattling, but no footsteps leaving his room. It was no good, his concentration had gone, and he opened his eyes. Lois stood there, with a tray in her hands, and she was smiling broadly.
“Oh, no,” groaned Cowgill, but he was smiling too. “Don’t tell me he’s chucked you out.”
Lois shook her head. “Derek’s no fool,” she said. “We came to a compromise. He says I’m to go on doin’ what I do for you – getting information, an’ that – because he knows I’ll give him hell if he tries to stop me. But I got to tell him what’s goin’ on. And you got to find out who wrote those poisonous letters.”
Cowgill stood up. “It would be a more sensible arrangement if you’d take money, Lois,” he said, but she shook her head. “Oh, all right then,” he continued. “I agree to your – or is it Derek’s? – terms. And of course I’ll find out who wrote those letters. That’s our job. Now go away, before I – ”
“I’m gone,” said Lois, and disappeared. Two minutes later she was back.
“I forgot,” she said. “There was something to report. That Edward…he’s a nastier piece of work than we thought. I’ve still got to talk to Enid about Alibone Woods, but I reckon we got to tread carefully. There’s a funny old set-up there, between him and her, and I don’t really know which way she’ll jump.”
“Right,” said Cowgill, the wise, senior policeman once more. “I leave it in your hands, Lois. Thanks. Now,
? Weeping on Wednesday ?
Twenty-Three
Gran awoke next morning feeling that a great weight had been lifted from her. Then she remembered why. Derek and Lois had returned home from Tresham, in separate cars, but somehow together again. She had said nothing, but cooked Derek’s favourite steak and kidney pie for supper.
The kids, too, had seemed to sense a return to normality, and had teased Jamie about his promised piano lesson. “You don’t need lessons,” Douglas had said loftily. “I can teach you all you need to know,” and he’d picked out chopsticks with no trouble at all.
“Go on then,” Jamie had protested, “what else can you play?”
“Too busy, too much homework.” Douglas had disappeared before he could be challenged.
Now it was nearly time for the school bus to deliver them back for tea, and Enid Abraham was at the door, early and apologetic. “Doesn’t matter, dear,” said Gran, ushering her in. “Come on in. They’re not back yet, so we’ve got time for a chat. It’s really nice of you to teach Jamie piano. He’s so excited!”
“It’ll be a pleasure,” said Enid quietly. “It is so long since I played myself…lost heart, really, when Mother got so agitated every time I sat down to play. Now I have a reason to take it up again, and I’ve looked out some music. Most of it is Edward’s…he forged ahead of me. So clever at everything…”
Gran nodded. “Lois told me. But Jamie is only a beginner, so he’ll just need someone with patience, mostly!”
Enid smiled. “Ah, well, that’s a commodity I have in plenty,” she said. “Did you know Patience is my middle name? I mean, really…I was christened Enid Patience…”
“Well I never!” said Gran. “There’s a coincidence.”
“And Edward’s second name is Justice…that was my mother’s idea. I sometimes wonder if it was a good one.”
“Perhaps justice is what he’ll get in the end, with any luck,” said Lois, coming in behind Gran and smiling at Enid to show she was joking.
With Edward in the forefront of their minds, Lois and Enid went through to look at the piano. Enid sat down and played a few bars. She had a light touch, and Lois could see at once that she was good.
“It’s a very nice instrument, Mrs M,” Enid said. “You did well…Oh, is that the children coming back?”
Lois had been hoping to bring Edward back into the conversation, but now there was the usual turmoil of grumbles and quarrels, and desperate hunger, and the need for help with homework; in general a settling back into the nest.
Jamie rushed in, having seen Enid’s car. “Hi, Miss Abraham,” he said. “Can we start?”
Enid smiled. “If Mother says it’s all right,” she said. “Might as well not lose any time.”
Lois shut the door quietly on the pair of them, their heads already together over the first piano primer. She heard a few tentative notes, then Jamie’s fruity laugh, and knew that all would be well.
¦
An hour later, Lois heard Jamie calling. “Mum! Come and listen!”
He had mastered the first scale, and stumbled through it with pride. “You got to get the right fingers, Mum,” he said knowledgeably, and Enid nodded.
“An apt pupil, Mrs M,” she said, “and now, Jamie, we’ve done more than enough for today. Run along and have your tea, and we’ll have another lesson next week.”
“Not ‘til next week!” Jamie was exaggeratedly horrified. “But what do I do ‘til then?”
“Learn the notes. Practice that little tune, and your scale, until it’s easy. Learn it off by heart, and play it to the others. You’ll be surprised how much time that takes!”
“Now Enid,” said Lois. “You and I are going to have a cup of tea, and you can tell me how we can help Jamie.”
“That would be very nice,” Enid said politely. “The only thing you need to do is give him time. Don’t try to force him. Children are very easily discouraged in the early days. I remember when Edward started, Father was very stern with him, and it caused endless trouble. It was why he gave it up in the end, I think. I was dogged, though less talented, and…”
She dried up, as usual, and Lois began talk. At first it was about anything and everything: New Brooms, the weather, the garden. Then, had Enid seen the bluebells in Alibone Woods? They weren’t out yet, of course, but a little later on they’d be spectacular.
“Oh yes,” she replied. “I’ve been there many times in the spring. We all used to go, even Mother in her good days, and if it was warm we’d take a picnic. Weekends were busy of course, but during the week we’d be the only people there. Edward would disappear, hunting for rabbits, he’d say, but I think it was to get away from Father. He was often at home, never seemed to be able to keep a job. They got on one another’s nerves. I was often the only one who could handle Edward. Father used to say he never knew what he would get up to next. I felt the same, and sometimes it frightened me…One day,” she continued, and now she was gazing out of the window at the darkening garden, “one lovely day, when the sun was shining through the leaves and the birds were singing at the tops of their voices, Edward disappeared and didn’t come back.”
Enid was silent, lost in memory. Lois shifted in her chair. She didn’t want to break the spell, but she could hear raised voices in the kitchen, and wasn’t sure Gran could cope. “Did he eventually come back?” she said, after a minute or so.
“No.” Enid’s voice was so quiet, Lois could hardly hear her. “At least, not that day. We had to go home without him. There was a terrible row. Then he turned up next morning, chirpy as a cricket. Father started at him, and then Mother collapsed, so he had to stop. It was horrible. Father went off to the barn, and Mother shut herself away.”
“And Edward?”
“He laughed,” said Enid, turning to look at Lois. “He laughed, and said he’d had a very peaceful night. Said if he ever decided to become a hermit, he’d found just the place. And then he made himself a huge breakfast and ate it.”
