‘But surely if she’s put up with it for all these years – and everyone knows – it’s a bit late in the day to do something about it now?’ Kate said, remaining unconvinced.
‘Ah yes, but I’ve heard they’ve been rowing a lot lately, ever since the Frenchman left. And she’s got a fiendish temper, has Sandra. And I’ve been hearing she went outside for a smoke during that WI meeting and came back in ages later. She couldn’t come back in until she cleaned herself up, see, because she’d be covered in blood, wouldn’t she?’
‘That’s very unlikely,’ Kate said thoughtfully. ‘All the blood was underneath.’
Angie looked doubtful. ‘But Des is convinced it’s Kevin Barry.’
‘Only because he’s reappeared after all these years. Anyway, he’s got an alibi so they’ve had to let him out. But Barry’s OK. Yeah, I know he knocked down that little girl, but he was completely stoned at the time – it was an accident – and, let’s face it, he’s paid the price. I know he didn’t serve the full sentence, but he was in there for around seven or eight years. He’s a nice enough bloke; I was chatting to him earlier.’
‘Kate here met Seymour on the coastal path today while she was walking the dog,’ Angie remarked.
‘Old Seymour? He’s all right,’ said Luke. ‘He’s a big shot up in London, you know. I wonder how he’s coping with it all?’
‘Well, I got the impression he was putting a brave face on things,’ Kate remarked.
‘Ah well, he’s the stiff-upper-lip type. Probably doesn’t want to talk about it anyway. Mind you, he hardly spent any time with Fenella, being up in London so often. Never seemed much bothered about her love affairs, but he must have known because everyone else did.’
Kate was becoming increasingly fascinated by the subject but she was tired. ‘Well, I’m ready to go home,’ she said, taking the opportunity to get a word in edgeways and looking towards the door to where the detective was still deep in conversation.
‘I fancy staying a bit longer,’ said Angie. There was a whine in her voice.
‘No, I don’t think you should,’ Kate said firmly. ‘Have a nightcap at home, if you must. I’m not having you coming home late on your own.’
‘Perhaps I should have brought the saucepan?’
‘You probably should have,’ Kate agreed, relieved to see her sister wasn’t about to start arguing. ‘Nice meeting you, Luke,’ she added as she shepherded Angie towards the door.
‘It’s only half past nine,’ Angie was muttering.
As they reached the exit the detective had to stand aside to let them pass.
‘Good to see you again,’ he said, smiling at Kate.
She smiled back, aware of a slight increase in her heartbeat.
Six
By Saturday the initial shock and excitement had abated a little in the area. Angie had even replaced the saucepan in the kitchen. Kate spent the morning in B&Q and returned with some emulsion paint for her bedroom. She’d never realised there were quite so many variations of white, particularly as she’d once been taught that white was not a colour. Well, it certainly was in B&Q, and the paint manufacturers must be making a fortune out of all their fancy whites, she thought. Kate had finally decided on ‘sunbeam white’ and, in preparation, had begun to move the smaller items out of her bedroom and onto the landing, and then spread dustsheets over the bed and the floor. She was almost ready to begin – stepladder in position – when the dog appeared with that look in his eyes.
‘It’s Angie’s turn to walk you today, Barney,’ she said, wondering where her sister had got to. She called out, ‘Angie!’
No reply. Kate wondered if perhaps she’d gone out to do some of her artwork and decided to investigate before she prised the lid off the paint pot. But there was no sign of Angie anywhere. She can’t be, Kate thought. Surely she can’t have sloped off to the pub already? She looked at her watch: half-past one, lunchtime. There seemed little point in beginning to paint with Barney haunting her and so, feeling annoyed, she attached the lead to the dog’s collar and set off for The Greedy Gull.
The pub was busy, being Saturday, and as Kate peered in the door it took her several seconds to spot her sister, on a barstool, surrounded by three men, one of whom was Luke.
Kate strode in, the dog at her heels. ‘What are you doing in here?’ she asked Angie. ‘You promised to walk Barney today so I could get on with painting.’
Angie looked up and Kate could see from her slightly unfocused eyes that she’d already had a few.
‘I’ll be home in a minute,’ Angie said crossly. ‘The dog can wait for a bit, surely? Let me introduce you to…’ She hiccupped as she turned to a short man with a beard. ‘I seem to have forgotten your name?’
‘Don’t bother!’ Kate was angry. ‘I can’t rely on you to do a damned thing!’ With that she turned around and she and the dog stomped out. Outside, she took a deep breath of sea air to calm herself down. This was one of the many occasions when her sister drove her crazy.
Angie was still an attractive woman with her big blue eyes and highlighted hair. But she’d put on weight and was now quite chubby, due in no small part to her endless consumption of gin and wine. As a teenager Angie had badgered their parents to send her to drama school because she was going to become a big star. Just you wait, said she. Eventually they gave in and off she went to drama school where she learned that acting wasn’t just all
