Solving crosswords required a kind of mental relaxation, a willingness to think laterally, to let ideas flow. But Carole’s mind wasn’t feeling relaxed. It floated over the words of the clues, not concentrating, not breaking them down into components to tease out their solutions.
She knew that her mind was really with Jude and what was happening in the Lutteridges’ house. To her annoyance, she found herself at the end of all the Across clues without having got a single answer. She couldn’t remember that ever happening before. With a ferocious effort of concentration, she focused on 1 Down.
“Tricky today, isn’t it?”
She looked up to see the tall figure of Graham Forbes stooping over her. He was wearing the same three– piece tweed suit and holding a whisky glass. His unlit pipe was clenched in his teeth. He must have just arrived. He certainly hadn’t been in the pub when she came in.
“Yes. Yes, it is,” she agreed.
“And one always thinks Mondays’ are going to be easy.”
He so exactly reflected her own views that she grinned.
“Took me ages to get started today,” said Graham Forbes. “Had to stay at the breakfast table much longer than I’d intended. Then I got a couple and it all fell into place.”
“Well, please don’t tell me any of the answers.”
He raised a hand histrionically, appalled by her suggestion. “My dear lady, what do you take me for? There is honour among crossword solvers, you know.”
“I do know. And I apologize humbly for my careless imputation.”
He chuckled. “Didn’t I see you in here on Friday?”
“Yes.”
“Have you just moved to Weldisham?”
“No, I live in Fethering, actually.”
“Ah. Different country.” He chuckled and indicated the chair opposite her. “Mind if I join you?”
“I’ve got a friend coming…”
“Oh, well, I’ll…” He made to move away.
“No, please.” Carole glanced at her watch. “She won’t be here for another twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be gone by then.” He sat down and raised his whisky glass. “Just always come in for my pre-lunch tincture, you know. Are you an every day
“Oh yes, part of my ritual.”
“Me too. Get in a very bad mood when I can’t finish it. Wife knows to keep out of the way on those days.” Another chuckle.
Carole couldn’t help being charmed by this man with his old–fashioned urbane courtesy. He seemed entirely different from the pontificator she’d heard talking on the Friday. Maybe she had misjudged his character. What had sounded right-wing might just have been nostalgia for a simpler time.
“Don’t like a lot of things about
“I can remember that too.”
“Well, all I can say is you must’ve been very young at the time.”
Graham Forbes’s gallantry was of another time, but it was comforting. Carole regretted that political correctness had rendered modern men wary of making that kind of remark.
“Tell you the favourite
He looked interrogatively at Carole.
“Bats do’…” she repeated slowly, trying to take the words apart.
“Not fair to throw it at you like that. You have to see it written to make sense of it. I’ll tell you, because I don’t want to prolong the agony. PEELS.”
“Right.” Carole nodded her appreciation. “SLEEP upside-down. Bats sleep upside-down.”
“Exactly. Damned clever, I thought.”
“It is, yes.”
“Sorry, should have introduced myself.” He stretched a thin freckled hand across the table. “Graham Forbes.”
“Carole Seddon.”
“Pleased to meet you. I live just a couple of doors from the pub, so I keep turning up here like a bad penny.”
He took a sip of his whisky. “Lovely stuff. I swear my innards are pickled in it, you know. So what do you do, Carole?”
“I’m retired.”
“Really? Must’ve been an extremely early retirement.” Again the automatic chivalry contrived not to be offensive.
“Well, it was early, yes.” And that earliness still rankled with Carole. She hadn’t wanted to stay till she was sixty, but she’d have preferred to have made her own decision about her leaving date, rather than being informed of it.
“What did you do before you retired?”
“I worked at the Home Office.”
“Fascinating. What part of the Home Office?”
“Moved around. A lot of the time dealing with the Prison Service one way or the other.”
“Hm. Travel much?”
“Only round this country.”
“I think maybe you were fortunate. Now I’m permanently settled here, I realize how much I missed about England.”
“You worked abroad?”
“Yes. British Council.”
“Oh, I had a Mend at university who went into the British Council.”
Carole hadn’t thought about him for years. She wondered whether he still kept up the front he’d maintained at Durham that he wasn’t gay. Or maybe more tolerant times had allowed him to relax into his own nature. “His name was Trevor Malcolm.”
Graham Forbes shrugged his thin shoulders. “It’s a big organization.”
“Of course.”
“Anyway, I worked for them all over the shop. Had the place here in Weldisham for a long time, but only used to come back for leave and breaks between postings. Often wonder if I wouldn’t have been happier staying here all the time.”
“I never think there’s much point in talking about might-have-beens.”
“And you’re absolutely right. What a sensible woman you are, Carole. No, I can’t really complain. Seen some fascinating places, met some fascinating people. Real characters, you know, the locals, librarians, drivers we had…And yet…Oh well, it’s human nature not to be content, isn’t it? Always remember a line of Hazlitt’s…‘I should like to spend the whole of my life in travelling abroad, if I could anywhere borrow another life to spend afterwards at home.’ ”
“That’s good. I think it sums up what most of us feel.”
“Yes, grass is greener, all that stuff. No, can’t complain. Had an interesting life, still with the woman I love at age seventy-five…What more can you ask, eh?”
“Not a lot.”
“No.” There was a silence. “Incidentally…when you were in here on Friday…did you hear what I was talking about with that chap at the bar?”
Carole blushed, though there was no real reason why she should have felt guilty. Short of putting in earplugs, there was no way she couldn’t have heard what was being said at the bar.
“About the discovery of the bones at South Welling Barn?”
