Chapter Thirty
DECIDING TO HAVE LUNCH when they returned to the Ashton Arms, they finished their drinks and set off after their involuntary host.
‘Do you know all your neighbours in this terrace?’ asked Fran.
‘Yes. We have a little neighbourhood watch scheme – we’re so out of the way we need to keep an eye out for each other.’
‘We noticed that,’ said Libby.
‘Me being nosy? Sorry about that, but so were you, as far as I was concerned.’
Libby decided not to mention Mr Vindari, and hoped the others wouldn’t either. She couldn’t quite say why she didn’t want to mention him, just that it didn’t feel right.
The walked up the little drive to the carriage arch and underneath to face a long two-storey building of mellow red brick.
‘Welcome to Ashton Court.’ Hugh waved an ironic hand. ‘Not my choice, my father converted a barn after the original house was demolished.’
‘It’s lovely.’ Rosie beamed at him. ‘You’re so lucky.’
Fran and Libby exchanged looks. Hugh preened slightly.
‘Come on in, then,’ he said.
He led them up a wide stairway to the upper floor and along a corridor to what appeared to have been an oast roundel at the end.
‘There,’ he said. ‘Panoramic views.’
They went over to the windows which looked out over a hundred and eighty degree prospect. Below them were obviously the gardens of the Court, to their right the back gardens of Ashton Terrace, and further over were the trees which formed the boundary to the White Lodge estate. Libby was surprised to see a much larger open area behind the barn than there had been previously. A white van, stakes and blue-and-white tape marked the fact that it was still a scene of crime and under the aegis of the police. The huge barn doors were now open, and inside she could see white-boiler-suited figures moving about.
‘You can see inside, can’t you,’ she said.
‘But not quite what they’re doing,’ said Hugh, behind her. ‘Until yesterday I didn’t know they were digging up bodies. Although when your friend the Inspector arrived it was fairly obviously something important. I thought it must be drugs.’
‘That’s what we thought,’ said Fran.
‘Oh?’
‘What I meant was – that’s why they went in to search,’ said Fran, turning back to the window.
‘I don’t get it.’ Hugh perched on a windowsill and surveyed them all. ‘You say you’re not police, but you’re obviously working with them, you’ve admitted that. But what on? As what?’
‘They’re helping me,’ Rosie said suddenly. ‘I own the barn. And the White Lodge estate.’
‘Ah.’ Hugh nodded. ‘I see. So my friend Mr Vindari was right.’
‘He told you?’ asked Libby.
‘After your last visit. He also said you’d told him the police were digging up bodies. I’m afraid I told him he was too gullible.’ He shrugged. ‘And then when the police came and didn’t say anything we decided it couldn’t be murder or we’d know about it. But it was.’
Libby turned back to the window. It was interesting to note, she thought, that the two gardens belonging to Ashton Terrace between the Court and the barn both led on to a field behind, which in turn bordered the estate trees. It would be easy to gain access from there, even if overlooked from here. Although there was little sign of any disturbance to the line of trees.
‘Who owns that field?’ she asked.
‘I do. I own all the land beyond the terrace and the church as far as the next farm on the Heronsbourne Road.’
‘Is that as big as mine?’ Rosie asked ingenuously. Libby narrowed her eyes at her. Surely Hugh wasn’t naive enough to fall for that. He smiled, rather suavely, Libby thought.
‘I shouldn’t think so. The White Lodge estate, we now know, although we didn’t before, runs all the way between this road and the coast road.’
‘Is that the road White Lodge is actually on?’
‘Yes. We call it the coast road, but it really only runs parallel with the coast.’
Rosie nodded and turned back to the windows.
Libby felt Fran nudge her shoulder slightly. About to ask, she saw Fran nod at the window. Below them, Aakarsh Vindari stood in one of the gardens looking up at them.
‘Do we wave?’ muttered Libby.
‘Well, it was really good of you to show us, Hugh,’ said Fran, moving away from the windows, ‘but Brenda will have our meals ready by now.’
‘Yes, thank you so much,’ said Libby. ‘Very enlightening.’
Hugh raised his eyebrows, but before he could speak Rosie broke in.
‘I’d like to see more of your barn,’ she said. ‘Could you apologise to Brenda for me, girls? And don’t wait for me if you’ve finished before I get back.’ She smiled sweetly. Hugh looked surprised, and Fran and Libby aghast.
‘Up to Hugh,’ said Libby.
‘No, of course I don’t mind,’ he said, looking down at Rosie for all the world as if he were going to pat her hand and call her “little woman”.
Outside on their own, Fran and Libby looked at one another.
‘Well!’ said Fran.
‘Harry was right about her. She is an inveterate flirt,’ said Libby.
‘And at her age!’
‘You’d think it would be difficult to find men personable enough at that age to flirt with, if you know what I mean.’
‘Who didn’t want women young enough to be their granddaughters,’ added Fran.
‘Which most of them do,’ agreed Libby. ‘We were both lucky.’
Fran nodded solemnly and they walked back in silence to the Ashton Arms.
Libby apologised about Rosie and Brenda shrugged. ‘S’allright,’ she said. ‘She’d paid up front. I’ll bring yours over. Stayed up at the Court has she?’
‘Er – yes. She wanted to see over it,’ said Fran.
‘Don’t know how he does it,’ said Brenda, going towards the kitchen. ‘Charm the knickers off a nun, he would.’
Libby snorted with laughter.
‘Just right for each other then, aren’t they?’ said Fran as they went to sit down.
‘Although I would say Rosie is what we used to call a prick-teaser,’ said Libby thoughtfully. ‘I bet what happened with Andrew is that she led him on and when he pounced she got the shock of her life.’
‘More traumatised than that,’ said Fran. ‘We’ll probably never know. You were sure they’d gone to bed together.’
‘Mmm.’ Libby watched Brenda approaching with their food. ‘Ooh, I did enjoy that sausage pie. Hope this is as good.’
It was.
Rosie had not appeared by the time Fran and Libby had finished their lunch and coffee.
‘Well, I’m not waiting around for her,’ said Libby, standing up. ‘Come on, Fran.’
Once outside, she stopped dead. ‘Her car’s not here.’
‘Perhaps she moved it to the Court,’ said Fran.
‘No we’d have seen her go past the window if she went that way,’ said Libby. ‘She must have crept round the side and driven off towards the coast road.’
‘To see how big Hugh’s estate really is?’ Fran laughed.
‘I expect she might already have found that out,’ said Libby with a giggle.
