‘You would say that, wouldn’t you, now you’re all tied up with Wonderboy. Everything works out for you. And there aren’t that many half-decent fish in the sea, because I’ve looked.’ She sniffed. ‘After all, Fergal’s very presentable, and he’s got his own hair, teeth and hips. They haven’t all got the full quota, you know.’
Kate didn’t want to get into an argument; she’d heard all this before. Yes, she’d been lucky to meet Woody but, over the years, she’d not always had a great deal of success when it came to romance. Angie was the pretty one, the actress, with a husband who adored her and put up with her dalliances. She was not accustomed to feeling insecure in her relationships with the opposite sex. But she’d met her match with Fergal.
Twelve
On Monday, when Kate reported for duty, she noticed that her first patient was Mr Oliver Pratt, of Seaview Grange. This could be another opportunity to find out more about the residents perhaps.
‘What can I do for you, Mr Pratt?’ Kate asked.
‘Oh, call me Ollie. We have met before, if you remember?’ He plonked his enormous bottom on one of the metal chairs.
‘Oh yes, I do remember,’ said Kate. ‘How are things up at the Grange?’
‘Very tense,’ Ollie replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. ‘Edina’s passing has affected us all. You’ve heard, I suppose, that she had some sort of poisoning?’
‘Yes, I’ve heard,’ Kate said briefly. ‘Now, what seems to be the trouble, Ollie?’
‘I’m having palpitations,’ he replied, ‘and I’ve never had palpitations in my life before, never. Last night I’m just sitting there with one eye on some rubbish Gloria likes to watch on the telly, and then my old ticker starts banging away, faster and faster and faster. And for nearly an hour! I thought I was going to die.’
‘Let’s check you over then,’ Kate said, and proceeded to give him a thorough examination. ‘Everything seems pretty normal, Ollie, although your blood pressure’s on the high side, but I see you’re on medication for that. Have you ever considered losing a little weight?’
Ollie sniffed. ‘Well, I know I’m a little on the tubby side…’
‘Would you step on the scales, please?’ Kate registered his weight. ‘I have to tell you that you’re obese, close to being morbidly obese. And that’s affecting your heart as well as everything else. Why don’t you and your wife consider joining a weight-loss group? Or I can give you some diet sheets if you’d prefer?’
Ollie frowned. ‘To be honest, Nurse, I think these palpitations are due to stress. Did you know that I used to do lots of jobs for Edina? I made her some bookcases and she was really pleased with them. She even got me interested in opera! I’ve never been to an opera in my life but, after listening to her singing some of that stuff, I’ve got really keen. She lent me some CDs, you know: La Bohème; La traviata; Madame Butterfly! Drives poor Gloria mad! I don’t mind telling you, Nurse, I’m devastated. And, to make matters worse, dear little Hetty gets back from Bournemouth tonight and I dread telling her. She loved Edina, you know; they were best mates.’ He tapped his nose and narrowed his eyes. ‘I’ll tell you something else – somebody at the Grange had it in for Edina, you mark my words.’
‘Well, we can only hope that the police get round to doing their job,’ Kate said, still smarting from her interview with Bill Robson.
‘I reckon it’s the old vicar,’ said Ollie as he got up to go. ‘After all, it makes sense after the way his wife died.’
Before Kate got the chance to ask what he meant he was out the door.
The number of suspects who might have wanted to murder Edina was growing. The Potter twins were convinced David Courtney had something to do with it. There was general agreement that Cornelius Crow had been driven mad by her singing, and now Ollie Pratt had pointed the finger at Edgar Ellis. It’s time to make my list, Kate thought when she got home in the late afternoon. They were all suspects, no doubt about that. She put David Courtney at the top of her list, then Cornelius Crow, then Edgar Ellis. It was unlikely to be Ollie Pratt, but she wrote down his name next, along with Gloria. Then there were the two old Potter twins. Even more unlikely, but they were residents so down on the list they must go. And Hetty Patterson, who wasn’t even there, but she was a resident. Who else? Of course! Sharon Starkey, the cleaner, and her husband, who turned out to be the gardener/handyman. What was his name?
And what was it Woody had said? Something like means, reason and opportunity? Why had Ollie Pratt singled out poor Edgar Ellis? He appeared to be a rather harmless character. Why would he want to kill a woman he was plainly besotted with? Perhaps it was time to try to find out a little more about the Reverend. It was a long shot but maybe a phone call to her cousin, Pam, might shine some light on the situation. But first of all she’d check the map to see if Pam lived anywhere near Little Barrington. According to Google, Little Perrinton, where Pam lived, was no more than ten miles or so from Little Barrington so she might be familiar with the area. She was due to give Pam a call anyway because she hadn’t spoken to her cousin for months. Pam was a widow, and a merry one at that, so chances were she wouldn’t be in. She’d had a succession of men friends who were always very well-heeled, and thus Pam was an expert on exotic locations and upmarket cruises.
On this occasion, however, Pam was at home.
‘Who?’ Pam
