“Ted Crisp?” Carole blushed. “He doesn’t fancy me.”
“Of course he does.”
“But you saw how he behaved to me in the Crown and Anchor last night.”
“He was in a mood last night. Something had got up his nose. God knows what, but it certainly doesn’t mean he’s stopped fancying you.”
“Jude, don’t be silly.”
“Silly? Oh, this really upsets me. Have you never thought of yourself as attractive?”
“Well, there were times, I suppose…Not since David walked out.”
“Really hit you hard, didn’t it, Carole? You’re still hurting from that.”
“Rubbish.” Carole tossed her head. “It’s happened to any number of women. And what you have to do when it does happen is just get on with things.”
“I would think when it does happen what you have to do is talk to someone about it.”
“Is that what you’d do? You said you’d had man trouble over this weekend. Have you talked to someone about that?”
“Yes, of course I have.”
Carole was taken aback, even a little hurt. “Who?”
“Friends. I’ve hardly been off the phone for the last forty-eight hours.”
“Oh.” Carole’s mood of gloom hardened into despair. She remembered, when she had offered a sympathetic ear, Jude had refused. “Have you talked to the man himself?”
“No, of course I haven’t. I need support, not more humiliation. Talking to supportive people helps. It really does. You should try it.”
Jude could not have known how much her words hurt. Unthinkingly, she had excluded her neighbour from the category of ‘supportive people’. Carole felt very alienated, forced once again to realize how little she knew Jude. As a result, her response was scornful. “That’s not my style. I can’t go all touchy-feely about things. I can’t spill out my guts to some complete stranger.”
“Who said anything about complete strangers? Friends. For the last couple of days I’ve been talking to friends.”
The line of Carole’s mouth hardened. “I think I have to get on with my own life in my own way.”
“Who would you be letting down if you didn’t?”
“Myself. I was brought up to believe that you should stand on your own two feet. You should be able to manage on your own.”
“Without ever asking for help from anyone else?”
“Ideally yes. I mean, obviously, if you’re physically ill, you need help from a doctor.”
“And if you’re mentally ill?”
Carole coloured with affront. “I am not mentally ill!”
“I didn’t say you were. I was talking in general terms.”
“Oh.”
“Presumably this – what shall I call it? – this independence of yours means you’ve never shared what you’re really feeling with anyone?”
“Maybe not. As I said, I’m not the kind to wear my heart on my sleeve.”
“And presumably that’s why your marriage broke up?”
Carole stopped in her tracks. The assessment was so accurate it almost winded her. And, to her amazement, she started to cry.
? Death on the Downs ?
Thirty-Four
Jude was ringing at her doorbell as soon as Carole got in the following morning. She’d just taken Gulliver for his walk on Fethering Beach. Her neighbour must’ve seen her go past the window and rushed round straight away. Carole was prepared to be embarrassed about the previous night’s uncharacteristic lapse into weakness, until she saw the expression on Jude’s face.
“What on earth is it?” Carole had never seen her friend’s serenity so shot to pieces. The cheeks were red, the brown eyes wide with excitement and anxiety.
“Come back to my place. I’ll show you.”
“What?”
“I videoed it. Quick!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The local news. They had a headline about it, so I switched the video on straight away. I got most of the report.”
“Look, I’ve got to take my coat off and give Gulliver a drink and – ”
“Come on!”
Carole perched on the swathed arm of a chair while Jude fiddled with the video control to wind back the tape. The playback wheezed into life.
“…a terrible tragedy,” said a reporter’s voice. “The fire, which is believed to have started on the ground floor, spread very quickly.”
The screen filled with a blackened shell, from which wisps of smoke still rose. It took Carole a moment to recognize Heron Cottage.
“Because Weldisham is so far from the main road and because the fire had taken such a firm hold before the alarm was raised at four o’clock this morning, the emergency services were able to do little. By the time they reached the cottage, it was already virtually demolished. ‘One body, that of an elderly woman, was found on the premises in an upstairs room. She has yet to be formally identified.’
? Death on the Downs ?
Thirty-Five
“I’m only here because you went to Heron Cottage yesterday morning. I saw her in the evening. Apart from me, you’re probably one of the last people to see Pauline Helling alive. I’m sorry, it’s just a formality. I have to ask you a few questions.”
Since Brian Helling had planted the thought in her mind, Carole couldn’t get rid of it. Detective Sergeant Baylis might well have an agenda of his own, outside his official duties. It did seem odd that he was constantly talking to her, and maybe his aim was not to get information but to assess her suspicions.
And why was it always him? Carole Seddon’s knowledge of police procedure was rudimentary, but knew there’d be other officers involved in the investigation of the bones she’d found. And possibly even a whole new team investigating the incident – no one was yet calling it a crime – at Heron Cottage. So why was it once again Detective Sergeant Baylis who was sitting in her front room?
“Of course, you can ask me anything you like,” she replied smoothly, “but I don’t think there’s much I can add to what I said when we last met.”
“No, but you didn’t really tell me what kind of state Pauline Helling was in when you visited her.”
“I don’t know what kind of state she was in normally. I’ve only seen her three times in my life, only spoken to her once, and on each occasion she was as antisocial to me as she could be. From all accounts, antisocial was her customary manner. So I suppose I’d have to say, when I visited her, she was quite normal.”
“She didn’t seem ill or anything, did she?”
“I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”
“Because if she had been particularly doddery, she might have been more likely to have knocked over something, not noticed an electrical spark flying out of the fire…”
“She didn’t seem particularly doddery. Come on, you saw her yesterday evening. Surely you could judge for yourself.”
