‘That won’t be necessary, I’m sure,’ she sniffed. ‘Brian left us very well provided-for, as you can see,’ she gave a quick, casual wave that was meant to take in the entire house, not just the well-appointed room, ‘and I’ve been managing our affairs quite well on my own ever since he passed. Now, what’s all this about Iris? Oh, please sit down. Tea?’ she made the last offer abruptly, an obvious afterthought and one which she believed they’d forgo, because she was already sitting down herself.
‘No thank you, Mrs Baines, we’re fine for the present,’ Clement said, taking his cue from her without batting an eyelash. Here, he understood, was a woman with a one-track mind who would not be distracted by social niceties.
Consequently, he got right down to business. ‘We understand that Iris and Janet were friends? Best friends, in fact?’
Angela drew in a sharp breath. ‘Supposedly,’ she said. ‘At least, I know that’s how Janet saw things,’ she amended.
‘You saw them differently?’ Clement asked.
‘Of course. I’m older and wiser than my daughter, Dr …’
‘Ryder.’
‘Yes. Well. Janet was far too trusting in my opinion. She thought Iris was her friend, when it was clear the girl had no real feelings of friendship towards her at all.’
‘That sounds rather harsh,’ Clement mused mildly.
Angela’s thin lips tightened mutinously. ‘It may be so, but it’s true nonetheless. Oh, I could see right through that little Miss, right from the time they met in primary school. Even then, as a five-year-old, Iris was as jealous as jealous could be of Janet. It was as plain as a pikestaff,’ she added, nodding firmly.
‘Oh? In what way?’ Clement continued to keep his voice light and vaguely disinterested. This, he knew, would goad her on more than anything.
‘In every way,’ Angela said sharply. ‘She was green with envy because I gave Janet things that her own family couldn’t afford. Clothes, toys, books, you name it. If I gave Janet a new doll, Iris would somehow have to ruin it. Drop it, break it, get the clothes muddy. She just couldn’t bear for Janet to have nice things that she didn’t.’
‘Children can be very fierce sometimes,’ Clement said.
‘Oh, that was just the beginning. When they were little, I could make excuses for Iris, because she was, as you said, just a little child. But as they grew older, she became even worse – more sly and cunning. She began to deliberately get my Janet into no end of trouble at school. She’d do things and then run off, leaving my daughter to the take the blame. I think her teachers soon cottoned on to that though,’ she added with satisfaction. ‘They soon realised what was what. Iris was a good-looking girl, but then so is my Janet – in a less obvious way. They could see that Iris was always trying to undermine her.’
‘And this … rivalry … continued as they grew into adulthood, I take it?’ Clement asked.
Angela looked as though she might have snorted at this, if she hadn’t been so ladylike. As it was, she contented herself with a magnificent sniff. ‘I should say so! If ever a boy showed any interest in Janet at all, Iris had to snatch him away. If ever Janet had her hair cut in the latest fashion, Iris had to go one better. The same with clothes. If I took Janet shopping for a new outfit, Iris wouldn’t rest until she had something even more showy. It was pathetic really.’
‘And Janet never realised any of this?’ Trudy ventured timidly.
Angela Baines spared her a quick, pitying look. ‘Oh no. She always thought I was being hard on Iris if I said anything against her. Iris had a way of making herself look liked the sinned-against, rather than the sinner. But she didn’t fool me!’
‘It sounds as if she was a very manipulative young lady,’ Clement said.
‘I’ll say she was.’
‘We’ve been hearing that she might have been seeing other men, other than David Finch I mean,’ Trudy put in.
‘Of course she was!’ Angela said scathingly, as if it could be in any doubt. ‘That dreadful man, Mortimer Crowley for one – art dealer my eye! The man’s an obvious crook. Riding around in his fancy car, with all his arty friends and so-called “celebrity” pals coming up from London to spend weekends at his country place.’ Angela shook her head. ‘In my younger day, he would have been given the cold shoulder by the whole village. Everyone was respectable in those days. Nowadays though …’ She sighed as if in regret. ‘People are so influenced by money and a flashy reputation, aren’t they? Oh, Iris thought she was being so clever, getting her fingers hooked into him. No doubt she thought he could do her some good – help her become an artist’s model or something, I have no doubt. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she didn’t take off her clothes …’ She stopped abruptly and shook her head. ‘But then, I have no proof of that. I only know I didn’t like my Janet hanging around with her. Who knows what might …’ Realising she was in danger of revealing more than she might have liked, she broke off abruptly and scowled.
‘I don’t see what any of this has to do with that poor boy David taking his own life,’ she said, glancing suspiciously at Clement.
‘We were wondering if perhaps David had spoken to Janet before he died about Iris,’ Clement repeated. ‘Do you know if David called on her after Iris was found on the village green, Mrs Baines?’
‘Not to my knowledge,’ she said flatly. ‘And I wouldn’t have encouraged him if he had. No, I really don’t think that Janet can possibly be of help to you,’ she added with unmistakable finality,
