education. Wendy’s got GCSEs, though. She ought to go to college and learn to be a secretary or something.’
‘How can I work or do college, when there are these two round my neck?’ said Wendy.
‘Perhaps when they’re a bit older …’ said Cooper.
‘We’d never be able to afford a nursery. They charge more than I could earn at any job that I could get. Besides, the nearest nursery is in Glossop. Not much use to us, is it?’
‘What about family? Or your neighbours?’
‘They’re never in.’
Cooper noticed there was no suggestion of Melvyn Tagg looking after the children. He quite liked children himself, and hoped he might adjust to being a house husband in the same circumstances. He looked at the nappy and baby powder and the other paraphernalia. Of course, the circumstances might never arise.
There’s your next-door neighbour, Mrs Wallwin. She’s at home all the time, she says/
‘Her? We couldn’t ask her to look after our kids.’
‘Why not?’ said Cooper. ‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘She’s shifty, for a start.’
Melvyn was still hanging on to his sterilizing fluid, as if he
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needed it for a reassurance. ‘She seems decent enough to me/ he said. ‘She’s just quiet, that’s all.’
‘Melvyn, people are quiet because they’ve got something to hide.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, I don’t know. Have you looked at her hands?’
‘What about her hands? Are they covered in blood, or what?’
‘They shake when she’s talking to you.’
Cooper felt he was losing control of the conversation. He looked around for Tracy Udall, and discovered she was squatting in the corner, talking to the older child and admiring a picture book.
That means nothing,’ said Melvyn. ‘She probably has that nervous condition - Parkinson’s Disease, is it? Or she might just be scared of you. I wouldn’t blame her for that.’
Wendy tossed her head. ‘Oh, ha ha.’
‘Er, sorry to interrupt/ said Cooper.
‘No, really/ said Melvyn. ‘She’s probably just very shy and nervous of meeting new people. Some folk are that way.’
‘Don’t talk daft. She’s shifty.’
‘But, Wendy, you know nothing about her at all.’
‘I know enough. I’ve got a feeling about her.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘Don’t put on that tone. You know my feelings are usually right/
There was a brief pause. Cooper saw that the baby’s face had started to become screwed up in an expression of serious annoyance. In a moment, there was going to be an ear-splitting noise.
‘Have you actually seen Mrs Wallwin recently?’ he asked.
Wendy looked at him as if she’d just noticed him come in. ‘She keeps herself to herself/ she said.
‘So you haven’t seen her?’
‘No, but she’s OK. She’s not dead or anything/
‘How do you know?’
‘She bangs on the wall sometimes, when we have the telly turned up loud.’
‘Do the kids ever bother her?’
‘What, these two? They cry a bit sometimes, but not that bad/
‘No, I was thinking of the older kids in the terrace - the Oxleys/
‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘Well, sometimes, they can be a bit mischievous. Someone living on their own can become a target. Knocking on the door and running away. Shouting abuse through the letter box. Stealing
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bottles of milk. Writing rude words on the windows.’
Wendy was staring at him. ‘You got into bad company when you were a kid, did you?’ she said.
That’s just me, is it, then?’
‘I don’t think the kids here do any of those things.’
‘OK.’
‘I mean, they’ve been in trouble now and then. You probably know that.’
‘Yes.’
