‘Tell us again what she said on the phone,’ said Jessica, sounding rather official all of a sudden.
Ant repeated the familiar words. ‘She said she wouldn’t be able to come home, because somebody was dead.’ Digby moaned gently in the background.
‘Right. So what do you think she could possibly have meant? That was yesterday, you said? Presumably Blackwood was still alive then?’
Everybody looked at her. ‘You think?’ said Thea.
‘Carla hasn’t seen him for quite a bit longer than that,’ Ant remembered. ‘And nobody goes into those woods. He could have been there for days.’
‘Ah.’ Jessica grimaced. ‘That’s not good. You’re telling me that your mother and your landlord might have both disappeared at more or less the same time.’
‘Have the police worked that out as well?’ wondered Thea.
‘They still don’t know that Beverley’s gone AWOL,’ said Digby. ‘We’ve been careful not to tell them.’
‘Ah,’ said Jessica again, looking even more uncomfortable. ‘You’d better put that straight, then. Otherwise you’ll be had for concealing evidence.’
‘Come on,’ said Thea. ‘Beverley can’t possibly have killed him. I mean – Beverley.’ She forced a laugh, which nobody echoed.
Jessica sighed. ‘All right – you know her and I don’t. But from what I can understand, Ant, your mother could have been held up by the unexpected death of somebody she knows, and is upset about it. She phoned to tell you she can’t come home. She was about to tell you her whereabouts, when the phone expired. That’s the best spin we can put on it, and it still doesn’t look very good, does it?’
Ant had already realised that the story had a host of horrible implications. Jessica was forcing him to see that here was a family where the wife went off on her own without telling husband or son where she was going. It was a family that lived in a state of disorder on an estate that was otherwise pristine and evidently extremely affluent, earning their living by buying and selling whatever came to hand, doubtless much of it under the counter and free from tax. They lowered the tone by their very existence. And now the affluent landlord was mysteriously dead, and every reasonable person hearing this story would draw one very obvious conclusion. He clumsily articulated these thoughts, addressing his father in particular.
‘We’re not tinkers, you know,’ Digby protested. ‘Whatever it might look like, we’re perfectly decent people.’
‘Of course you are,’ soothed Thea.
Stephanie went from Ant’s side to Digby’s. ‘You’re very nice people,’ she said. ‘And sad because of what happened to Aldebaran.’
Digby clutched her hand, pulling it to his chest. Ant watched, wondering whether this was another piece of play-acting. It showed every sign of being genuine for once. ‘You’re right, lovey,’ Digby said. ‘Nobody knows how that feels. You’re a good girl for reminding everyone.’
‘It must have been awful,’ said Jessica, just slightly too briskly. ‘But not relevant to the case in hand.’
There was clearly nothing to be said about that. A long time ago, in another country – but not to be lightly dismissed. ‘Did you go out there?’ the young woman asked.
‘We did,’ nodded Digby. ‘She had made her home there, and we wanted to see it. We had her cremated and brought the ashes back with us.’
‘But you’re not thinking Beverley might have gone back there now? For Christmas, perhaps? Nothing like that?’
Ant’s head went up at this new idea. ‘God, no. That wouldn’t have occurred to her. Would it, Dad?’
Digby shook his head emphatically. ‘She would never have afforded the fare, for a start. And she would tell us. Our daughter is long gone now.’ He looked around at them all, gathering himself for an overdue speech. ‘The point, you see, is that it never leaves you. Once you know that the worst thing in the world can actually happen, you never really relax again. And when your wife disappears for two days without a word, you get worried.’
Ant was both impressed and confused. ‘But you haven’t been really worried about her, have you? You’ve been weirdly calm ever since she went. You don’t even seem to be taking it seriously now. What if she’s charged with killing Blackwood? Then what?’
‘I’m worried enough, lad, and don’t you doubt it,’ said the old man angrily. ‘But I know enough to understand that sometimes all a man can do is sit back and wait.’
‘For what?’ asked Jessica softly. ‘Just what are you waiting for, Mr Frowse?’
After that, there seemed to be little to be gained by staying any longer. ‘We’ve got to walk back, and get on with all the Christmas stuff,’ said Thea. ‘We shouldn’t really have come, according to Jessica. But I’m glad we did. Thanks for explaining it all to us.’
‘I’m glad too,’ said Jessica. ‘I’m sorry if I sounded a bit officious. It’s really nothing to do with me – you don’t have to do anything I say. But I really think the police ought to know about your mother. It’s in her own interest, in the long run, to come back and give an account of herself.’
‘She’ll come back when she’s ready,’ said Digby, who was making no secret of the offence he had taken. Jessica’s challenging attitude had forced him into a renewed silence, which had the effect of making the guests feel they should go.
‘Well, I don’t suppose much is going to happen before Wednesday now,’ said Thea. ‘Won’t there have to be a post-mortem before there’s any real progress? And they won’t do that on Christmas Day or Boxing Day, will they?’
‘Shouldn’t think so,’ Jessica agreed. ‘All the same—’
Thea cut her off. ‘That’s enough, Jess. We’ve heard the story and had our say. We should leave these poor men in peace now.’ She addressed Ant. ‘Phone any time if you want to talk. If Beverley comes back, I’d love to know what she says. Or just that she’s safe. Any time,’ she repeated.
‘Thanks,’ said Ant. ‘You’re a good friend.’
Digby looked up at that.
