Till Daph Do Us Part

by Phillipa Nefri Clark

  “I can’t wait to hear!”

  John had a couple of projects on the go. Accustomed to working long hours and being active for his adult working years, the caravan life—as he called it—left him wanting more. He loved being on the road with Daphne, exploring Victoria and seeing her happy in her new career, but he couldn’t fish all the time and needed his mind busy. Genealogy was a growing passion but what he had to show Daphne was something for them both.

  He opened his laptop on the table. “I’ve been dabbling with this for a few weeks, mainly to keep our friends in River’s End up to date with our travels.”

  Daphne shuffled closer, resting her head on his shoulder as he connected to the internet and then typed in an address. The screen changed and she sat bolt upright with a gasp.

  “But…that’s Bluebell!”

  “Sure is.”

  “Is this a blog? Called Bluebell’s Blessings?”

  “Yup.”

  “You clever man! I love it.”

  For the first time today, John’s spirits lifted. His girl was happy and he found himself grinning. “As I mentioned, the original idea was to keep our friends up to date. I’ve taken lots of photos of Bluebell,” he moved to the ‘gallery’ page. “Inside and out.”

  Daphne squealed. “How did you make the living area look so big?”

  “Found a neat little trick with my phone. Now here, on this next page, is our itinerary on the map of the state. At least, a rough outline, based on your commitments. And if you like, I can link this to your website. Gives potential customers a bit of insight into who you are as well as allows them to look here and see if you are already booked on a certain day.”

  Before John knew what was happening, Daphne threw her arms around him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  He laughed when she released him. “Take that as a yes.”

  “Yes. I’m so glad you’re doing this. Not just for our friends or as something to look back on, but so you have something to do. I’ve worried a bit whether you would get too bored traipsing the countryside for me.”

  “Bored is not a state I could ever be in when you are involved. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being married to you for some forty years, Daph, it’s that life always has a twist.”

  Twists Indeed

  Those words of John’s rattled around in Daphne’s mind for a while. Life always had a twist. When she’d married her high-school sweetheart after they graduated, she’d relished the idea of raising a large family with him. The twist was trying to start a family for ten years before discovering it could never happen.

  A cruel twist.

  Daphne believed in silver linings though. They moved to the seaside town of River’s End where John opened his business. For a long time they were foster parents and loved welcoming young ones into their hearts and home until more permanent arrangements were made. As a teen, local lad Martin Blake, who’d lost his own parents young and lived with his granddad, made it his business to help the Jones’ out and befriend often troubled and confused kids who needed a new path. And even now, Martin spent time each year teaching at a camp for troubled teens.

  A good twist.

  Some of those foster children kept in touch while others stayed with the Jones’s only long enough to tiptoe into Daphne’s heart before they were moved to their permanent homes. One in particular lingered in her memories and perhaps one day, they’d meet again.

  Daphne was unsure yet how to view today’s events. A twist indeed. Tragic. Unexpected. But was it murder? With the arrival of evening and having spent a couple of hours talking with John about Bluebell’s Blessings, her earlier contention of foul play was a bit dented.

  “What about this one?” John asked.

  They wandered arm in arm after walking into town, following a path to the river and a bridge not far from the caravan which offered a short cut.

  “This one is Mexican. Oh, but we had tacos last night.” John said. “Looks like Italian up on the corner.”

  “Italian sounds ideal.”

  For a country town in the middle of Victoria, Little Bridges had a wonderful selection of eateries. They had planned to stay another two days, but that might change if the police needed them to be available for interviews. As long as they left by Thursday, they’d cover the distance to the next wedding with time to spare.

  Once settled at a window table made cheery with a red and white checked tablecloth and matching candles, they choose from a small menu and John ordered a bottle of local red wine.

  Daphne sighed and reached across the table for both of John’s hands. “This is lovely. Thank you, love.”

  “I’m happy to see you smiling.”

  “Well, I feel much better. And seeing all the work you’ve put into Bluebell’s Blessings filled my heart up.”

  John’s face reddened but his eyes sparkled. He wasn’t a man to expect compliments but deserved every one ever given. Over their lifetime together, he’d helped more people than Daphne could remember. The real estate agency sponsored local kids sports as well as making a hefty donation each year to different local charities. He was a good man.

  Two waiters moved a couple of tables to form a large one beside Daphne and John. They set it up for eight patrons and chatted the whole time.

  “Didn’t think they’d still come out tonight.”

  “Boss says they never cancelled but yeah, who’d go to a restaurant almost straight after what happened.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “Steve Tanning? Went to school with him.”

  Daphne smothered a gasp as the waiters continued.

  “Sorry, man. Are you okay?”

  “Oh, we weren’t friends. He and his cousins were part of the cool group. You know, the ones who think they’re better than anyone else and push everyone else around. Can’t say he’ll be missed.”

  The conversation ended as they returned to the kitchen. Daphne leaned closer to John. “You heard that?”

  “Would you like me to see if they can move us further away, love?”

  “Further? Oh goodness, no. Right here is perfect.”

  Perfect to listen in and perhaps get some updates on the events after they’d left.

  “Daphne, what are you thinking?” There was a touch of lament in John’s voice.

  She smiled as widely as she could. “Nothing at all. Here comes our wine.”

  By the time their wine was poured, the diners on the other table were settling in. Daphne decided to focus on her evening with John. They chatted about plans for the next day, which included a nice long walk around town and a visit to the local bookshop.

  From the corner of her eye, it was impossible not to recognise some of the faces from the wedding. Most were around the age of Bob and Margaret.

  Daphne moved her chair a bit so she couldn’t see them. A plate of garlic bread arrived and that gave her something yummy to concentrate on. More people arrived and before long, the restaurant was filled with laughter and talk. Exactly what she’d hoped for.

  “They should have been arrested.”

  She wasn’t going to listen. Daphne shuffled again, as close to the window as her chair would allow. But the man’s voice carried and she couldn’t very well put her fingers in her ears.

  “Coming onto Bob’s property and starting a fight.”

  “I suppose the police took their grief into account.” A woman suggested.

  “What about Bob and Margaret’s grief?”

  Nobody could have expected what came next.

  Laughter.

  Daphne and John turned as one. All but two of those at the next table were laughing. The ones who weren’t amused were the oldest couple, a man and woman in their seventies.

  “Come on, Pat and Gina. You know it’s true.” It was the first man. “They were horrified that silly girl of theirs wanted another go with a Tanning. Best thing for everyone if you ask me.”

  Gina frowned. “Be careful nobody outside this group hears you s
ay so. A family feud is still no reason to wish harm on another. And he was only a boy.”

  Before they were caught listening, Daphne and John each grabbed another slice of bread. Their eyes met across the plate.

  The first man continued. “Bertie will be happy. I reckon Lisa marrying into the family of his arch enemy started him going downhill. Nothing like a couple of good accidents to set things right.”

  Daphne shoved the bread in her mouth. She was getting tired of having to suppress gasps and really shouldn’t be listening.

  More laughter.

  A waitress attended the other table and talk turned to selecting food and drinks. Seemed as though at least one of them already had quite a bit to drink from his loud-mouthed comments. Did he actually know something about the deaths of Sam and Shane?

  What if he’s the killer?

  Oh dear. There she went again, thinking of Steve’s death as murder. It wasn’t her business and she wasn’t about to make it her concern.

  “John, I’m staying out of it. Promise.”

  “I know.”

  Their mains arrived and the table near them stopped discussing the wedding. The food was a delight and Daphne wasted no time enjoying it rather than worrying.

  Before dessert arrived, she visited the restroom. As she washed her hands, the woman who’d been referred to as ‘Gina’ came in. She was a thin woman, heavy makeup covering deep wrinkles, wearing pearls and a fitted black dress. Their eyes met in the mirror.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear, dear.”

  Daphne tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “I know you are at the next table. Saw you the minute we arrived. One of our party had a few drinks earlier from the shock of the events at the wedding, so don’t think for one minute he is making sense.”

  There was nothing to say. Daphne dried her hands with paper towel.

  “You’ll be leaving soon. On your way to the next town. No reason to dig around in our family history. Or in my family’s town. So move on and forget about us.” Gina said as if making small talk. “You were in such a rush to speak to the police at the wedding. Not a good look.”

  Well, well, well! Somebody wanted to hide something.

  “I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about. My husband and I are simply having dinner—”

  “At the same restaurant half of Lisa’s family are attending. Did my great-niece tell you we’d be here?”

  “Lisa? Of course not. We just walked—”

  “Either way, you aren’t welcome. You played your part and now is the time to toddle along.” Gina looked Daphne up and down, her eyes stopping on her stomach. “After your dessert of course.”

  It took a moment for Daphne to get the message but then ice filled her veins. She couldn’t answer because Gina had left. Obviously, her visit to the restroom was designed to speak with Daphne. To insult Daphne. And warn her off.

  Daphne lifted her chin. She might not wear pearls and a tiny little dress but she had heart.

  “And courage.” Half-tempted to follow Gina and tell her some truths, instead, she straightened her top. “And manners.”

  Change of Heart

  Dawn was John’s favourite time of the day and since they’d embraced the travelling life, he’d managed to photograph some glorious sunrises. One day, he might put all of them into a book and publish it. For now it was a hobby to enjoy.

  He wandered down to the river, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and phone in the other. Daphne was still asleep, exhausted from the previous day. Once she woke, he’d make them a nice breakfast. Being able to spoil her a bit more these days was long overdue after her dedication to his needs for so long. His and their foster family over the years.

  The sun peeked through the gums near the town. The river turned to gold.

  John put his cup onto the grass and took lots of photos. Phone cameras today were every bit as good as a high quality camera and he loved the little tricks he was experimenting with to get the most out of every shot.

  Birdsong filled the air. Magpies warbled. A family of kookaburras launched a cacophony of chuckles quickly elevating to their characteristic laughter. A flock of sulphur crested cockatoos screeched overhead as they swooped to see if John had anything interesting on offer.

  “Come to the country, they said.” John picked up his coffee. “It’ll be quiet, they said.”

  He turned back. There was movement in Bluebell, a shadow crossing the kitchen window. He must have disturbed Daphne. For a moment he stopped, nursing the cup and sipping the coffee.

  Their dinner last night was meant to help her unwind and move on from the trauma of the wedding. Instead, something happened to upset her more. He’d seen that woman called Gina follow Daphne to the restroom and leave first. Daph came back to the table a few minutes later, her eyes down. She forced a cheeriness he recognised as covering up hurt. On the walk back she’d said little and once in the caravan, headed to bed.

  This mess with the accident yesterday, compounded by comments from the next table at the restaurant, all stirred Daphne up. Back when they were still in River’s End, her friendships and sense of adventure dragged her into a few unusual situations. Mysteries she’d helped solve. She’d always been one to jump in. And more than once, John had asked her to stay out of other people’s business. Just when she got too enthusiastic. But she had a way of seeing through lies and deception and if she really believed Steve was murdered, then John would back her all the way. Even if it meant getting a bit more involved than he was comfortable with.

  “There you are!” Daphne opened Bluebell’s door. “Kettle’s on if you’d like another.”

  “Good morning. Yes, please.”

  She stepped back to let him in and he gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “John, do you mind if we go to the police station this morning? I’d like to see if they can take my statement.” Her voice was flat.

  “If you’d like. Or we can wait for them to call.”

  With a shake of her head, she took John’s cup and turned to the kitchen. “I thought if I can do the statement, then perhaps we can get going. To our next destination.”

  “Today?”

  “I think it’s best.”

  “Daph—”

  “So, would you like eggs for breakfast?”

  When John let himself out of the caravan earlier, Daphne was awake. She’d heard the kettle boil and considered getting up to join him. But the thoughts in her head weren’t ready for sharing and she had to find a way to deal with all of this without getting worked up and teary.

  Gina had hurt her last night. Not only by insinuating Daphne was there to snoop around but the swipe at her weight.

  Daphne turned on her back to stare at the ceiling. Her hands moved to her stomach. Where Gina had stared. It might be a bit more round than a few years ago, and she’d never fit into the figurative ‘little black dress’, but what business was it of anyone other than Daphne? And perhaps John, who was too sweet to ever comment on her growing waistline. Sliding her hands from under the blankets, she held them up. Her fingers were a bit thicker than they used to be although her long nails gave an illusion of length. But those hands were used for good.

  In all the years she’d lived, Daphne had never concerned herself with fitness or being trim. Long ago, she’d decided her body would be what it wanted and she’d care for it to her best ability without obsessing. Enjoy her cookies sometimes but also love a good long walk. It all balanced up in the end.

  Speaking of ends, she’d noticed her suit pants were a fraction tight when she’d donned them yesterday. Either they were shrinking with the regular dry cleaning, or she was spreading thanks to all the good food they enjoyed. A bit more walking might be the go. And walking away from this place was something high on her new list of priorities. There was no point staying where she wasn’t welcome. John deserved better than the flow-on effect of nasty people. No, it was time to go.

  Once dressed, Daphn
e put the kettle on in anticipation of John’s return. Well accustomed to his pre-dawn wanders to take photos, it always gave her a few more minutes in bed and she appreciated how he tiptoed around so not to disturb her. She’d cook some eggs for them both then once the police station was open, she’d ask if she could do a statement today.

  Don’t run away, Daph. You’re an adult now.

  She held back a sob. No more tears. It was best they left now. More time to spend along the way to the next town. And get away from the upsetting events in Little Bridges.

  Not Going Anywhere

  Constable McIntyre was apologetic but firm. “We’re understaffed and working at capacity to investigate yesterday’s incident. That and dealing with almost constant interruptions from…well, other parties, means we can’t get to all the interviews just yet.”

  Daphne and John were at the counter in the police station. Behind the constable were three other police officers. Two spoke on the phone and one covered a whiteboard with notes. Sadly, a bit too far away for Daphne’s eyes.

  “If you really need to get to your next town, we can arrange an interview at another police station.”

  “I understand. It’s just that I have some information you might find useful.”

  “Is it about the photos from the catering van we discussed on the phone? The photos you should not have taken?”

  “Well, yes. And last night we overheard what sounded like inside knowledge of the deaths of Lisa’s previous husbands.” Daphne said.

  “Didn’t we talk about not getting involved?” There was no malice in his tone, only a touch of defeat. The young man was obviously tired. His eyes were a bit bloodshot and he looked as though he’d been up half the night.

  Her initial assessment of him changed. There was nothing offensive or dismissive about him. He was right. They didn’t need her help or her getting under their feet.

  “Let me check I have your details. One minute, please.” He headed towards a desk.