‘Why aren’t you two at school? It’s only lunchtime.’
‘Last day of term.’ That was Nettie, the older one. ‘They let us high school kids out early.’
‘Did the bus drop you up by the cottages?’ Vera thought she should place Dorothy and Karan’s cottage on her mental map too. They were part of the Brockburn estate.
‘Yeah. Josh was going to pick us up but he’s having car trouble again.’
‘Do either of you drive?’
‘I was too young until my birthday.’ Cath sounded resentful, then smiled. ‘But I’ve got my test booked now. I’ve been driving round the farm for years.’
‘I passed my test a month after I was seventeen,’ Nettie said, ‘but the parents are making me wait until my next birthday until I can get a car.’ A pause. ‘That’s so mean. I only need an old banger.’
Vera leaned against the gate to catch her breath, her mind still fluttering with ideas. ‘Did you hear about Miss Browne?’
‘Of course.’ Cath this time. ‘It’s all over social media. A serial killer on the loose in Kirkhill. We were warned at school not to wander about on our own.’ She didn’t sound scared. Excited, if anything. The invulnerability of the young.
Vera thought that when she made it back to the Land Rover, she’d get Holly to check social media and see what was being said.
‘You still doing extra classes with Karan Pabla?’
‘Yeah, no real holiday for me.’ Cath didn’t appear upset, though.
Vera looked up the track towards the farmhouse. ‘Is your brother at home?’
‘I guess,’ Nettie said, ‘unless he could con Dad into lending him a vehicle. He’s stranded without his car.’
Vera followed the girls up the track in the hope of talking to Josh Heslop, but when they got there, it was Neil with his head inside the bonnet of the car, looking at the engine.
‘Shouldn’t that be Josh’s job?’
The girls had sloped off into the house. Neil emerged, wiping his hands on a bit of rag.
‘Ah, well, he’s not exactly practical, my lad. Which is why he let his vehicle get into this state.’
‘Is he around?’
The man shook his head. ‘He’s gone into Newcastle on the bus to catch up with some of his mates.’
‘Did you know he was friendlier with Lorna than he first let on?’
‘She was a bonny lass,’ Neil said lightly. ‘No doubt there were a few lads in the village had their eye on her.’
‘Do you think Josh could be the baby’s father?’
‘No.’ Now the man was definite. ‘My son’s a good man. If he was the father there’d be no need to be secret about it. He’s single and free. He’d have taken responsibility for the bairn and we’d have supported him, welcomed Lorna and the boy into the family if that was what they all wanted.’ He closed the bonnet. ‘That’s patched up for now. It’ll last a while longer. I’m heading into the house for a bite and you’d be welcome to join us.’
Vera hesitated for a moment. No doubt there’d be home-made cakes, maybe a pan of soup. Rosemary, Neil the Viking and the two girls would be sitting round the table together for lunch. But she decided she wasn’t in the mood for happy families and her brain was still whirring with ideas. The walk back to Kirkhill might clear it.
She’d almost reached the village when her phone rang. The sound startled her. There was so little mobile reception here that it was the last thing she was expecting. She didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway.
‘Vera, it’s Ernie. You’re a tricky person to get hold of.’
Ernie was the retired Wildlife Liaison Officer. She remembered she’d sent him the photo of Lorna’s painting. ‘You know where that cottage is?’
‘Of course.’ His voice was smug. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it yourself. It was close to one of your father’s old haunts.’
Cocky bastard.
‘Well, don’t keep me in suspense.’
‘It’s on the Brockburn estate. Only a couple of miles from the big house, but you’d not find it if you didn’t know it was there. I’ll send you the grid reference.’
Vera thought she had no map with her and the GPS on her phone wouldn’t work out here, even if she knew how to follow it. ‘Why don’t you meet me in Gloria’s? I’ll buy you lunch and then you can show me yourself.’
He pretended to think about it before answering. ‘Could do,’ he said at last. ‘There’s nothing on this afternoon that won’t wait for another day.’ She could tell, though, that he was delighted to be asked.
Chapter Thirty-Four
ERNIE WAS WEARING A WAXED JACKET, corduroy trousers and leather boots, and until he opened his mouth, he could have been a member of the gentry he claimed to despise. He was a small man, slightly hunched with a rat-like face and thin hair. Vera thought he had a wife at home, but couldn’t remember her name and Ernie had never mentioned her.
Once they’d finished eating, he spread an ordnance survey map over the table. The lunchtime rush was over and they had Gloria’s cafe to themselves.
‘It’s down here by the burn.’ He pointed with a thin finger. ‘It was a water mill once. Jinny’s Mill, the locals call it. But only the shell of the miller’s cottage is left. When
