Bella launched in an enthusiastic scene-by-scene. Eve let out a deep breath. The hairdresser might be a bit tactless, but she liked her enthusiasm for life.
Ben spent the evening in his office. He and John shared their meals, but apart from that Ben kept to himself for a change. He stared at his computer, trying to make sense of the code, but his mind drifted off. Ten hours, and he’d managed twenty minutes’ work, if that.
He could drive over to Eve as soon as his father was asleep, to apologise. John had taken half a diazepam and would be out for the count.
The only problem was, he’d meant everything he said. She didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, because there were things he kept buried away in his mind. Dragging them out in the open would be the end of everything.
Eve decided to take her afternoon stroll in the opposite direction from her usual path. Along the meandering way, bird-houses hung from oaks and beeches. The splitting wood and fading paint established their age, so the local avian population should be used to them. It would be easy to find another animal to transfer her interest to. Eve hoped her owl would miss the human who used to drop by, but who was she kidding? She could be gone, and in six weeks she’d be forgotten by pretty much everyone. She used to prefer it that way, but now it felt lonely.
As soon as she returned to Ivy Cottage, she’d book her flight to see her father and Crystal. She could make it a long vacation, two weeks at least. The thought of getting to know her dad again, and his wife for the first time, cheered her up.
Eve whistled an unrecognisable tune. One of the perks of her solitary status. She could sing or whistle as tone-deaf as she wanted, and nobody told her to shut up.
It wasn’t as if she’d asked Ben for a serious commitment, she told herself. She simply objected to being treated like an embarrassing secret. The human equivalent of smelly feet.
She’d solve the mystery, admittedly with help from her friends. Then she’d present him with the solution and sail off into the sunset, although unfortunately not literally. Her rental agreement was in place for another ten months.
She envisaged herself, smiling vaguely at Ben, as she strolled past with a gorgeous man at her side. She’d used a dating site before, as a dare with a friend from college, and finding someone to go out with would be easy enough for an attractive, young, and unattached woman. That would teach him. Not that she cared about his opinion.
Eve sauntered back, her cheerful mood restored for the moment.
Her cottage looked drab and spinsterish as she opened the door. She needed a change of scenery.
The sun was still up when she rang on Kim’s door. A few moments later, she climbed up the stairs.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said. “I should have called first.”
Kim switched off the television. “That’s fine. I’ve got nothing planned for tonight.”
“Would you like to go out with me for a drink?” Eve fussed with her hair, an old habit when she got restless.
“Okay. Where shall we go?”
“You’re the local. Surprise me.”
They ended up in a wine bar that doubled as art gallery. A pianist and a singer in a vintage dress and a curly black bob reminiscent of pre-war Hollywood presented classic swing. Eve found herself swaying to the sultry music.
In London, this bar would have been packed with trendy people who came to be seen and heard. Here, the audience came to see, and to listen.
The singer hit the last melancholy note of “One for my Baby” and put the microphone on the piano, standing still in the soft spotlight.
Eve applauded until her palms hurt.
The singer blew kisses into the audience, her scarlet lipstick glistening.
“She’s amazing,” Eve said. “Why isn’t she somewhere on the big stage?”
“Andrea used to tour the States, but she became homesick. And she owns this bar.”
“Do you come here often?”
“It’s a good place to remember. And to forget.” Kim signalled the waiter for another glass of wine. Eve declined a second drink, regretfully, because she had to drive home.
“What happened to that date of yours? Any progress?” Kim savoured the fruity bouquet of her Chardonnay.
“It’s over. That is, it was never really on. Just one of those butterfly moments.” Eve pulled a face.
“That’s a pity,” Kim said.
“Not all all. It’s much better this way. I think I was getting caught up in this whole, mysterious stranger thing, and I felt a little lonely as a newcomer.”
“I thought you’re used to that,” Kim said.
“I am, but once in a blue moon I have this idea that I’m on the wrong track. It never lasts long.” Eve glanced towards the singer, who launched into “Voodoo”. “How about you?”
“No. No-one since Donna. I miss her every single day.”
Chapter 21
Kim’s words hit Eve like a punch in the stomach. She gulped, glad the music drowned out the sound. How could she have been so blind? The pictures of the blonde woman who seemed vaguely familiar, anti-histamine medication for a woman who was allergic to dog hairs, the fact that Kim had given Laika away for a few horrible weeks.
Eve touched Kim’s hand. “That’s tough. You must have loved each other very much.”
“She came into the shop one morning in May, carrying a blue coat with a gash in the lining over her arm. The sun caught the window at an angle that created a halo over her head. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t breathe.”
She paused, gazing blindly into the distance. Eve waited for her to continue, ashamed how much Kim’s bombshell excited her.
Nothing had happened for a while, Kim said after an eternity. “We became friends, that’s all. We clicked. She wasn’t happy at home, I knew that much.” Kim cupped her chin and lost herself in a distant memory. “It’s hard to break free, even if there’s no love left, if it ever existed at all.”
“Did she have children?” Eve hated herself for misleading Kim, even in the best of causes. She’d come close to forgetting the original reason why she sought her out.
“No, only a father in law who disliked her. Well, the feeling was mutual. And her husband.”
“And then she fell in love with you.”
Kim’s lips curled up into the hint of a smile. “It took her forever. We’d been out for lunch, at ‘The Flower Pot’. We always met there.”
“The same place for every date?” What about the diary entries about “Little Italy”?
“The table closest to the wall. It was like our private hideaway. A lush, evergreen paradise far removed from the outside world.”
They’d talked about work. Donna complained about a rude customer, and Kim gave her a gift, an Italian pendant shaped like a twisted silver horn, which would ward off the evil eye.
“It was a joke between us,” Kim said. “She told me her father-in-law was giving her the evil eye.”
Donna attached the pendant to her chain necklace and leant over the table to give Kim a thank-you kiss.
Kim touched her lips, lost in the memory. “She used to kiss me hello, and good-bye, but this kiss landed on my mouth. She stared at me, with a kind of wondering gaze, and then she kissed me again. That was all it took for us to fall in love.”
“How long did you have?” Eve asked.
“Five months, three weeks and two days.”
“That’s terribly short. What happened? An accident?” Eve’s stomach revolted at her falsehood, but she ploughed ahead. The truth mattered more than her newly discovered sensibilities.
Kim gulped down her wine. Her hand shook. “She was – Donna was killed. Murdered.”
“Oh my God. I hope they sent the person responsible away for life.”
“They never got him.”
“How horrible. Not even a suspect? What was it, robbery?”
Kim stared at the ground. “Nobody knows the reason. The husband had an alibi, and there was nobody else who
could have a motive to hurt her.”
Eve handed Kim a tissue to wipe away a tear. “We don’t have to talk about Donna.”
“It’s good to get it out of my system. For years, I’ve been lying awake, wracking my brain. It’s the not knowing which is the worst part. I could walk along a street, or push a trolley in the supermarket, and run into the person who took away her life.”
Eve shivered. “You believe in the husband’s alibi.”
“Why should he kill her?” Kim asked. “She told me he was relieved when she told him she’d file for divorce.”
“Some people hide their jealousy well. Or it’s about money.”
“We’ll probably never know. The case is done with, and that’s all there is to it.”
“But you need closure.”
“We all need a few things. Doesn’t mean we’re going to get them.” Kim slammed the table, only to give Eve a rueful look. “I didn’t mean to dump my misery on you.”
“It’s okay,” Eve said. “It really is. We all need a listener.”
“Let’s make it a more cheerful evening on our next visit.”
“Deal.”
Donna and Kim were lovers. Eve could barely begin to imagine the hell of losing the person one cared most about and having to hide the grief and pain. Kim had said they hadn’t been out in the open yet. Donna’s death made it impossible to change that.
She could picture the gossip, and the accusations which would condemn Donna and Kim as quickly and possibly with more relish than Ben had experienced. Greed, or jealousy made a good story. But a lesbian love-triangle and a spurned husband would take the crown any day.
If Ben preferred to play the innocent victim, he only had himself to blame. Eve eased her car into a space next to the kerb, glad to be alone with her thoughts. Her visit, only intended to keep her distracted, had yielded unexpected results. Clearing Ben’s name no longer claimed the top spot on her priority list. Instead, she’d make sure Kim got the closure she needed.
Nice piece of reasoning, her inner voice whispered. Nothing’s changed, but you can fool yourself into believing it’s not still all about a man who doesn’t want you.
Speaking of man – Kim’s story explained where Donna intended to go, but it shed no light on the man Donna had been seeing before. Her diary was proof of another secret, and so were the condoms. Donna had no need for contraceptives with Kim.
Hayley tallied their weekly, and monthly accounts. They looked slightly worse than she’d expected, not even counting the increased expenses thanks to Heather and Grace.
“Is anything wrong?” Letty peered at her.
“We’re a few quid down on the takings, that’s all.” Compared to the rest of the year, they’d made close to a hundred less per week. If it was a fluke, they could easily weather it. If it turned into a trend, she might have to let Grace go.
“So much for healthy economy and growing wages,” she said.
“Is it the drinks or the food side?” Letty stood up from her sofa and sat next to Hayley at the table. She’d kept the books until Hayley decided she needed to learn, and if a number held a secret, Letty got to the bottom of it with the same ease she’d run the business with, until age caught up with her.
Hayley went through the stack of hand-written orders. The bar staff keyed in every request on the bar computer, but Letty and Hayley insisted on ordinary pen and paper duplicates. Technology could glitch, and books needed to be precise to a penny.
Letty leafed through them. “Heather’s cooking is popular.”
“Customers still miss your food,” Hayley said.
“I don’t. It’s nice to prepare a stew or a pie for the two of us, but I’ve had my share of twenty litre pots.” Letty held the notes close to her eyes. Her annual vision test was overdue. Hayley chided herself for neglecting her nan’s needs because she got swept away with Eve and Ben on top of her regular work.
“It’s the drinks,” Letty said. “Lager and the guest ales have sold less.” They offered a changing selection of small brewers’ beers.
“That’s weird. They used to be wildly popular when we started before Christmas. Perhaps the novelty has worn off.” Hayley paused. An image of a group of wiry blokes came to her mind, all drinking whatever sort was chalked up on the blackboard. The same group of men who’d itched for a fight with Ben.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” Hayley said. “I drove our customers away. With standing up for Ben and threatening to send them packing.”
“A few of them, and good riddance.” Letty put her hand on top of Hayley’s. “They’ll return soon enough, don’t you fret. You did the right thing.”
Hayley traced the numbers with her finger. “The sooner all of this is over, the better,” she said.
“I quite enjoy the excitement,” Letty said to Hayley’s surprise. “It’s good to have an interest outside the ‘Green Dragon’.”
“Sleuthing as therapy?”
“Would you rather I shut down like John?”
“Impossible.” Hayley planted a kiss on Letty’s cheek.
Ben’s head sank to his chest. His fingers touched the keyboard, and a beep brought him to his senses. After two o’clock in the morning. He needed sleep, and a clear head, instead of letting his thoughts run in circles, following the same grooves they had for five years.
It was all Eve’s fault, he repeated to himself. He’d said that straight away, as soon as she inveigled herself into his life and into affairs that were solely a Dryden matter.
Ben avoided any prolonged sessions with John. He had too much work ahead, he told himself, because tomorrow he’d have to leave for a two day business trip.
John put on a brave face too, keeping out of Ben’s way. Maybe Letty’s talk had shown results, or the fact that Ben would also be away from Eve. Whatever it was, John only mentioned that Chris would come over for breakfast. Since Ben’s annual trip had been planned since January, arranging dates for him to look after John had been easy. If Chris ever left, they’d be doomed, Ben thought as he ticked items off his to-do list.
He toyed with the notion of dropping in at the “Green Dragon” on his way but decided against it.
Hayley (and through her, Eve) would laugh if he started to inform her about every little absence of his.
He put his weekender-bag on his bed and packed.
To make up for his trip, he suffered through an evening of “Carry On” television comedy which only John considered funny.
His father caught Ben glancing at his phone. “If there’s anything you’d rather do, I won’t keep you.”
“No. We’re good.”
His forced jollity made his jaw ache. John quietly nodded his head, satisfied he’d got his way.
Ben breathed easier. They both deserved a break from each other.
Ben grabbed bag and briefcase as soon as Chris took over the reins in the morning.
“You’re in a hurry,” Chris said.
“I’d rather be prepared for traffic delays. The joy of the British motorway.”
“I told you to take the train.” John watched from the living room.
“Horrible suggestion. They’re always delayed or cancelled. The car is the only sensible way to travel.” Chris winked at Ben. “And there’s no need to rush back if you have something planned with what’s-her-name? Eve?”
John’s face turned darker, a sign for a brewing storm. Ben stifled a groan. Couldn’t Chris see he only made matters worse?
“Nice offer,” Ben said, “but I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“I’m just saying, John and I will be fine.”
Ben managed to get through a full day’s meeting without sparing a single thought for his private dilemmas. If he’d mastered anything at all in those last years, it was the fine art of compartmentalisation. Otherwise he’d be in the loony-bin by now.
He dined alone, in the hotel restaurant, and afterwards prepared for tomorrow’s meeting. The good thing about being on your own was that you
also were the only person you could let down.
Eve found herself mindlessly strolling towards the cabin. She squared her shoulders. This was a public right of way, and she had as much justification to be here as the rest of the population.
A tiny sense of unease lingered. What if she ran into Ben and he thought she was stalking him? Which she wasn’t. Far from it. If anything, he was stalking her. After all she’d begun her owl-watch before she even met him, and he knew about her interest in the bird.
If they met, she’d point out to him that he was the one who could easily avoid her.
They did not meet. Nor did Ben appear the next day.
“Anything wrong?” Hayley asked as Eve ordered tea and crumpets after her second day without spotting the owl or Ben.
Eve pouted. “I feel stupid, that’s all.”
“Why don’t you go up and see my nan? I’ll bring afternoon tea.” Hayley slid a warning glance towards the Pink Panthers who sauntered through the door.
“Thank you,” Eve said.
Letty snored gently on the sofa.
“Hello?” Eve poked her head through the door.
Letty gave a tiny start. “Did I doze off?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I’m glad you came to visit. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“It’s all under control, Nan.” Hayley pushed the door closed with her elbow and sat a laden tray on the table. “The Panthers will pace themselves until Dom’s shift begins and Grace should be fine until then.”
She spread lashings of golden butter on the hot crumpets.
The dough oozed with it as Eve took a bite.
“What’s going on with you?” Letty asked. “Hayley tells me Ben got cold feet?”
“I probably should have waited in best Victorian manner until the head of the family gives up his resistance.” Eve shrugged it off. “I always thought tyrannical parents went out with girdles and petticoats. Or Ben uses his father’s ill health as an excuse, so he won’t hurt my feelings.”
Let Sleeping Murder Lie: A cozy mystery Page 17
