Murder in House

by Veronica Heley

  ‘I’m still here.’

  ‘Well, The Man’s throwing a drinks party at home this Saturday, and we want you to come, to show there’s no hard feelings, right?’

  ‘After what you lot did to me? No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Look, Ursula, we all got upset, didn’t we? We did things that maybe weren’t too clever—’

  ‘Tim, you held my hands up in the air while Anthony assaulted me.’

  ‘Not “assaulted”, not really.’

  ‘You laughed, Tim. You all did. You made me beg to be released. You made me cry. Do you think I’m going to forget that?’

  ‘I’m sorry, yes. It was bad. Destroying your mobile was wrong too. I don’t quite know what got into us that night. It’s something I don’t like to think back on, now. Look, I’ll buy you another phone, shall I? As for Anthony, I’m sure he’ll apologize, if that’s what you want.’

  A sigh. ‘Sorry, Tim. You were always the best of the bunch, after Dan. I wish you could learn to think for yourself sometime, and not always rush to obey Anthony’s slightest wish, but there it is. We are what we are. If Mia had still been around perhaps . . . have you any idea what happened to her?’

  ‘I . . . no, I don’t. She packed up and took off when we were all out one day. I must admit I miss her, but life goes on.’

  ‘Yes, it does. That part of my life’s over, and I’ve got to move on too. Let me know if you ever hear from Mia, will you? I wish you well, but I won’t be coming to your party.’

  ‘But Ursula—’

  ‘Goodbye, Tim.’

  EIGHT

  Tuesday evening

  Silence assailed her ears. She could almost feel the astonishment of the big house, which had never, in all its hundred years of existence, been subjected to anyone screaming in that unladylike way.

  And Thomas? Undoubtedly he would be shocked by her behaviour, so she didn’t look at him. She turned on her heel, pounded up the polished wooden staircase and went straight into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her. If he dared to follow her, she’d . . . she didn’t know what she’d do, but he’d better not!

  She threw herself on the bed and told herself it would do no good at all to cry as it would only give her a headache and then she’d be fit for nothing, and someone was going to have to clean up that mess in the hall, and she’d upset Thomas, too, and she didn’t care! Not she! They could all go to . . . wherever. So long as she didn’t have to see them or talk to them or . . . well, not tonight, anyhow.

  She sobbed a little, pressing her face into her pillow. She was not going to allow herself to cry. Certainly not.

  She reached for a box of tissues and blew her nose. Her throat was dry and sore. It would serve everyone right if her cold turned to pneumonia. Perhaps she really was sickening for something serious. Well, that would teach them all not to count on her to pick them up every time they fell over and hurt themselves.

  It was getting dark. She didn’t bother to get off the bed to draw the curtains. Too much effort.

  She pulled the duvet over her, fully dressed as she was, and sighed. Let the world go hang.

  She woke when one of the bedside lights was switched on.

  Whatever time was it?

  And oh . . . how appallingly badly she’d behaved. She’d had a full-scale tantrum, how awful! She felt as if she’d been run over by an express train. Her head ached, and her eyes were puffy and she was, astonishingly, hungry.

  She tried to sit up, and failed. She felt hot and sticky and horrible. And she needed to go to the loo.

  Thomas was bending over her, looking anxious. She avoided his eyes, reached for a hankie, couldn’t find one, connected with a box of tissues, blew her nose and sat upright. More or less.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. And then, ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m all right if you’re all right.’ He wasn’t smiling, either. There was another tray of food on a table in the window. He’d put it far enough away so that she couldn’t hurl it across the room. Oh dear. How awful of her to behave so badly, to make so much trouble for everyone else. But how satisfying it had been to throw Diana out! Ha!

  Thomas drew the curtains against the night and then stood watching her, stroking his beard. ‘Light of my life! Whatever will you do next? Am I allowed to kiss you now? You look like a white owl, all big eyes and ruffled feathers.’

  She tried to laugh and almost made it. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I don’t know what came over me.’

  ‘Flu, followed by too much pressure from everyone – including me – leading to an extreme reaction which I, for one, fully endorse.’

  She got off the bed. ‘But how awful of me, to throw out my only daughter.’ Her mouth curled into a grin. ‘I actually did it, didn’t I? But I feel so guilty, having all these rooms in this big house and I could easily have said she could stay. Except that I didn’t want her to because it would mean an end to our peace and quiet, and of course that’s a bad reason. But no, she went too far.’

  He knew what she meant. ‘Yes, she did. And no, I didn’t handle it too well. It’s not as if I haven’t had experience of women coming on to me. Pop stars and the clergy often get it, and I suppose it means as little to the pop stars as to the clergy. The pop stars can often get a minder to prise the groupie off their back, but a clergyman can’t risk manhandling a woman, so we usually send an experienced woman to deal with the problem. Which you did, very neatly.’

  She tried to smile. Not a great effort. ‘I feel all hot and sticky. I think I’ll have a shower. It might improve my temper.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had a temper.’ He didn’t seem to mind. ‘It’s good to know there are limits to what you’ll put up with.’

  ‘Actions speak louder than words?’

  As she came out of the shower she heard the landline ring and Thomas laughing. She shrugged herself into her white towelling robe – another present from Thomas – and joined him, murmuring, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Stewart,’ he said, and into the phone, ‘I’ll hand you over to her now, but before I do so, tell me, how did Maria react? Ellie broke two plates!’

  ‘What?’ Ellie snatched the phone from him. ‘Stewart? What . . .?’

  Stewart was laughing. ‘I was just telling Thomas. You won’t believe this! Diana turned up here half an hour ago, hung herself round my neck and demanded that I supply her with bed and board. So I yelled for Maria, who was more than equal to the occasion.’

  ‘What? How did she . . .?’

  ‘Maria said that Diana might doss down on the settee in the sitting room tonight if she’d take over the day nanny’s job tomorrow, but Diana should be warned that the baby’s got diarrhoea and will need her nappy changing every half hour. Diana was so incensed that she upped sticks and drove off, fuming.’

  Ellie was enchanted. ‘And did Maria break anything afterwards?’

  ‘She tidied the room ruthlessly, and then – er – well, she dragged me upstairs, not that I needed much dragging and . . . what a woman! She’s making a late night snack for us now, so I’ll cut this short. I thought you’d like to know the latest.’

  Laughing, Ellie put the phone down. And then blenched. ‘Rose. She was upset! I must go to her at once. How could I have forgotten—’

  ‘Rose is fine, tucked up in bed downstairs with a sandwich, watching telly, thrilled that you threw Diana out. The cleaners finished turning out my new quiet room and have gone for the day. I cleared up the mess in the hall, so you don’t have to worry about that, either. When did you eat last? I put up some more sandwiches, and there’s soup in the Thermos.’

  Ellie allowed herself to grin. ‘Spoils for the victor? Thank you, Thomas. I appreciate it.’ But as she relaxed, other thoughts crowded in on her. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, you should be working on your paper for the weekend and you’ve been rushing around after me, instead. And there’s Roy, and Felicity’s so worried about him, and if he’s coming round tomorrow, what am I going t
o say to him? And then there’s Ursula. I went to see DI Willis, but . . . Thomas, I should be doing all sorts of things, ringing up people . . . Thomas, calm me down. What do I do first?’

  ‘Eat, my little pigeon. Soup first. Don’t talk. When you’ve cleared the plates, then you can tell me all, and we’ll decide what – if anything – you need to do tonight.’

  Good advice, if she could have taken it. She started on the soup, but her brain was whirring with doubts and worries. ‘What of your day?’

  ‘I’ve printed off the paper I’m giving, and it’s all right, I think. And the magazine? Submissions include something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.’

  ‘How blue? Can you print it?’

  ‘Eggshell blue. And no, I can’t. Sometimes I worry that I might be losing my ability to be shocked by human nature. Sometimes I think plagiarism offends me more than the occasional swear word.’

  ‘Thus speaks a good editor. But copying someone else’s work is stealing, and it’s right to be offended by it.’

  He sighed, passing her the plate of sandwiches. ‘Surely at my age I ought to be past getting angry at such things?’

  She laughed. She was surprised at herself for laughing, after all that had happened. A gust of hail struck the windows, and both glanced towards it.

  Thomas said, ‘Diana can take refuge in her office, if the worst comes to the worst.’

  ‘In the office she’ll have the keys to all the houses they have on their books to sell. I’m not sorry I threw her out,’ said Ellie, ready for a fight if he disagreed.

  ‘I must admit to enjoying that moment too. I only wish I’d been a fly on the wall when Maria worsted Diana. You’ll want to discuss it at your usual property meeting tomorrow, anyway. Is it one of the ones that Kate comes to?’

  Ellie took the last sandwich, sighing with content. ‘I love you, Thomas.’

  ‘Ditto,’ he said. ‘And when you’ve finished making your phone calls, perhaps we can have an early night.’

  Ellie grinned. One of Thomas’s ‘early nights’ meant they’d sleep well.

  Wednesday morning

  Ellie did not want to think about Diana, but couldn’t stop doing so. Where had she spent the night? Had Ellie’s actions been sensible, or sinful? On the whole she still felt pleased with herself, but with an undercurrent of guilt.

  Turning her mind from an unproductive debate with herself over Diana, Ellie found herself worrying about Rose’s gentle decline. If she were to follow Aunt Drusilla into the grave . . . no, it didn’t bear thinking about.

  Ellie psyched herself up to enter the kitchen and found Rose already there, humming to herself as she made breakfast for them all. What a nice surprise! Rose said it had made all the difference not having to climb the stairs, and she’d had a lovely night’s rest though she was afraid she’d left the telly on all night, but that didn’t really matter, did it?

  No, it didn’t. What an enormous relief to see Rose dashing about, almost as spry as ever! Ellie told herself that she’d been worrying unnecessarily about, well, everything. Not that that did much good. If you were the worrying sort, then you’d find something to worry about, even if you didn’t need to.

  Thomas took the last piece of toast and final cup of coffee off into his office, even as the phone rang. Ellie took it in the sitting room where she’d gone to do the morning tidy-up.

  It was Ursula, speaking high and fast. ‘Mrs Quicke, we just got the mail. However can I thank you? When I got your parcel, I was so surprised I nearly dropped it. It was so thoughtful of you and I can’t tell you how much better it makes me feel. My mother will be pleased, too, knowing she can contact me easily. I do worry about her, you know.’

  ‘I dropped in to see her yesterday. She’s not fit to go back to work yet, but she’s coming on nicely.’

  ‘Of course she’s not fit to go back yet, but if I know her she’ll probably try to do so, because she worries so about her clients. She’s ultra-conscientious where they’re concerned. I’m going to ring her in a minute to give her this number, set her mind at rest, about contacting me at any rate.’

  ‘Talking of setting your mind at rest. I saw Detective Inspector Willis yesterday, but I’m afraid—’

  ‘I know. They’ve settled it in their minds that Lloyd got drunk and fell, and that Mia was a slag who went off with another man. Thanks for trying. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’ve been talking to some of my friends down here and they say that these things happen and that I really must put the past behind me, get on with my life. They say I’ve never really tried to get the most out of university because I was always going back up to London to see Dan and the rest of the gang. They’re right. I’ve missed out on a lot here. I’ve made a resolution to change all that.’

  ‘Sensible girl.’

  Ursula sighed. ‘I don’t feel very sensible. Too many loose ends, I suppose. You won’t believe this, but Tim Prior phoned yesterday asking me to go back up to town this weekend for some party or other. He says they don’t want to lose any more friends, and there’s someone they want me to meet. As if! I wanted to ask how they could forget it all so quickly, but I didn’t. I suppose I ought to have gone to the police about the way he and Anthony treated me, but –’ she tried out a laugh – ‘I won’t, because it would only prolong the agony. Evidence of a new maturity on my part, do you think?’

  ‘Probably, yes.’

  Ursula sighed. ‘My friends here want me on some committee or other, something to do with the Student Union. I said I’d give it a try. So think of me discussing fund-raising, instead of partying this weekend.’

  ‘If you’re short of a few pence any time . . .’

  ‘No, thank you, Mrs Quicke. You’ve done enough, and more than enough, and I appreciate it. And especially I appreciate the mobile. But I pay my own way; usually, that is.’ This time her laugh seemed genuine. She rang off.

  Ellie should have been heartened by this phone call. After all, how many young people nowadays bother to say ‘thank you’ for gifts? Ursula was a nice, sensible girl and Ellie wished her well.

  So why couldn’t Ellie be just as sensible?

  She stared out of the window, twitching at the long velvet curtains to let more of the drab winter’s light into the sitting room. She noticed that the little silver bell, which her aunt Drusilla had always used in order to summon Rose, had drifted back into the sitting room. A nuisance. It was supposed to be left beside Rose’s chair nowadays, but seemed to have a life of its own. Ellie supposed the cleaners had moved it again.

  She checked her watch. Time for the weekly meeting to deal with the properties left her by her aunt. She checked the radiators in the dining room. Yes, they were warming the room nicely.

  Stewart was the first to arrive, smiling a little. He’d obviously had a good night’s sleep too.

  Pat, Ellie’s middle-aged and efficient assistant, had come back to work for the first time for a week. She was still sniffling and not quite as sharp as usual, but then who was, on a dark January day? Kate, their financial whiz-kid, arrived with a tiny posy of daphne and winter jasmine plucked from Ellie’s old garden to cheer her up. Actually, it made Ellie feel more like crying, because there was neither daphne nor winter jasmine in the garden at the big house. Ellie put the flowers in a silver vase that she couldn’t remember ever having seen in use before, and hoped it wouldn’t leak. Then she chid herself for allowing such a depressing thought.

  Ellie tried not to think about Diana more than once a minute as the four of them moved into the dining room and settled down to discuss the housing situation and the possible effects on their tenants. Stewart gave his weekly report, and pointed out that in the present climate many of those in Ellie’s properties were going to find it hard to keep up the rental payments. Ellie could, of course, resort to the small claims division of the County Court to try to recover any money owing.

  Kate shook her head. ‘Time-consuming, costly, and probably counterproductiv
e. Might as well turn ourselves into a charitable housing association and be done with it.’

  ‘I’m thinking along those lines anyway,’ said Ellie.

  ‘Ouch,’ said Kate. ‘I wasn’t serious. Doing that – and it would take months to set up – means you’d reduce the income for the Trust. If you reduce the income for the Trust, then you’ll have less money to distribute to those in need, and the directors of the Trust wouldn’t be happy about that.’

  ‘Suppose we lower our rents for those in trouble financially?’

  ‘Tricky,’ said Kate. ‘We’d have to bring in means-testing. We’d still have high maintenance bills to pay and we’d have to pick up the slack.’

  ‘Could we ask appropriate families to downsize? After all, we have properties of all sorts in different neighbourhoods.’

  ‘We could. It would be a lot of extra work for Stewart and his team, but it would save our tenants from being thrown out on to the street. Any properties we can’t re-let immediately might benefit from a good wash and brush-up.’

  Stewart was frowning. ‘Someone once said that the poor are never grateful, and in my experience that’s true. It would be like stirring porridge to get them to downsize, but yes, it’s worth trying, and there are quite a few properties that could benefit from updating, particularly in the bathroom and kitchen areas.’

  Kate lifted a finger to attract attention. ‘There’s one more thing we ought to consider. In a recession, the price of houses falls dramatically. It’s true that Ellie is worth much less on paper now than before this happened, but she’s not short of a penny and doesn’t need to sell any of her properties at lowered prices. Instead of selling she might consider buying, as and when suitable properties come on to the market.’

  Ellie’s mind leapt to Prior’s Place, and from that to the block of flats which Roy had inherited. Kate looked at Ellie in her frowning way, as if expecting Ellie to pursue the subject, but Ellie wasn’t sure what she thought about either, so merely nodded and closed the meeting.