Murder by Suicide

by Veronica Heley

  Wrong-footed by her daughter’s neediness, Ellie became flustered. Besides, Frank was both heavy and unhappy. ‘Were you expecting any messages? Aunt Drusilla is expecting you this afternoon, I know, but …’

  ‘I told some of my old friends that I’d be down this week. Do be careful with that buggy, one of the wheels is loose.’

  Ellie had already discovered this, and that baby Frank was wet and smelly. At Christmas he had been a loving, cuddly child, but he seemed to have suffered a sea change since then, and was now a roaring, struggling bundle of hate.

  Diana began to take the suitcases upstairs, ignoring her son.

  ‘Oh, have you put me in the back bedroom? It’s very small, isn’t it? Much smaller than I remembered it. Of course, we have such a nicesized master bedroom in our house.’

  It was annoying how quickly Diana could make Ellie feel inadequate. She could hear herself being placatory.

  ‘I put little Frank in the small bedroom. Is that all right?’

  ‘Oh yes, I suppose that will do. The journey down was terrible. He cried most of the way. Teething, I suppose. Stewart didn’t want me to bring him, but I know Aunt Drusilla will want to see him.’

  Ellie was not convinced about that, but set about changing the little boy and soothing him. His dark eyes looked up at her with an expression she had often surprised on Diana’s face. It was not a loving look. She smiled at him, clucking away, trying to reach him with her love, but his expression did not change.

  Oh dear, were there going to be two tyrants in the house?

  ‘When’s lunch?’

  ‘I’ve just got soup and sandwiches for now. We’ll have roast beef with all the trimmings tonight.’

  ‘Roast beef? Mother, I did think you’d remember that roast chicken is my favourite.’

  ‘But you always used to want—’

  ‘That was when I was young. Beef is so bad for you. You don’t know where it’s been.’ Diana snorted with laughter at her own joke, but Ellie was perturbed.

  ‘Honestly, darling. The butcher gets all his beef from Ireland, and …’

  ‘Oh well, never mind. Shall I wear this suit … or this one … this afternoon? I need to impress the old bat with my executive abilities, don’t I? Either way, the blouse will need ironing. Perhaps you can do that while I snatch a bite and ring Stewart to tell him I’ve arrived. He does fuss so.’

  Ellie pressed the blouse and fed baby Frank – who was growing fast and, yes, definitely teething. She listened to Diana talking on the phone, and over lunch while she coaxed baby Frank to eat, she listened to Diana explaining her plans. Ellie kept her mouth shut. Come to think of it, that had been her role in the past, before Diana got married and moved away, and before Frank died. Oh well. Only once did she venture to raise a query during Diana’s monologue.

  ‘You’ve actually given up your job? But …’

  ‘Yes, of course I have. This job with Aunt Drusilla solves all our problems. I’ll make her give me a whacking big salary, and who knows what other opportunities there’ll be for making money when I’m working for her.’

  ‘Are you so sure she will give you the job? And what about Stewart, and your house and his job?’

  Diana waved all this aside. ‘We couldn’t afford to keep the house, as you very well know. If you hadn’t been so miserly, if you’d bailed us out, then perhaps it might have been all right and I might have found another good job up there eventually. But with me working down here – and of course I’ll move back in with you for the time being so that you can look after Frank while I’m working – it’s a perfect excuse to put the house on the market without losing face. Stewart is going to ask Head Office if he can transfer down here, and if not, he can get some sort of flat up there and join me down here at the weekends.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘I’ve got it all worked out. The old bat’s getting on, and will be only too happy to leave the management of the flats in my hands. I expect some of the people who have been working for her are not very good, and it’ll be a doddle to get her to change to others … and that’s where those handy introductory fees come in …’

  ‘That’s corruption!’

  ‘Oh, mother. You’re so old fashioned. It’s sound business sense. I’ll be making double what I made up north, and I’ll be my own boss, too. What’s more, she’s not going to last for ever, and she’s bound to leave me her house and all her flats, and then … you won’t see me for dust!’

  Ellie saw that Frank had opened his mouth to yell, and automatically shoved another spoonful into the gap. She thought: Diana’s fooling herself, isn’t she? Aunt Drusilla may be old, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Besides, Diana has had a copy of Frank’s will. She must have seen that I inherited Aunt Drusilla’s house. Do I remind her, when she’s so happy and excited about the future? No, I don’t. Aunt Drusilla will live for years, with care. Besides, perhaps Diana is right, and she does deserve some of the family money. But I really don’t like the thought of her moving back in with me.

  Diana swept out to have her interview with her great-aunt, leaving Ellie to put a fractious Frank to bed. He resisted with all his might. She had only just got him settled, done the washing-up from lunch and started the preparations for supper, when Diana returned. She slammed the front door so hard that Ellie was afraid little Frank would be woken again. Ellie took off her apron and stepped into the hall, only to see Diana lifting the phone with the squinty-eyed air of one doing mental arithmetic.

  ‘Stewart? Yes, of course I got the job. I beat her up on terms, too. It’s going to be even better than I thought. I start tomorrow. Mother will look after baby Frank, get him into a crèche or something. Did you get an appointment to see about transferring down to London? Oh. Well, that will do, won’t it? Now, put the house on the market first thing tomorrow …’

  Ellie went back into the kitchen, redonned her apron and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. Diana only drank Earl Grey. Or perhaps she was into one of the herbal infusions nowadays? Anyway, it was time to put the beef on for supper, and make the Yorkshire pudding. She could hear Frank wailing upstairs, but she closed her ears to the noise. Let Diana deal with her son. There was a limit!

  The front doorbell rang. Diana sang out, ‘Mother, doorbell!’ She had finished her conversation with Stewart, but was now on to one of her old friends. Ellie finished putting the joint in the oven, poked an onion under the foil covering the beef and, still with her apron on, stepped past Diana to the door.

  It was Archie, wearing an orchid in his buttonhole and carrying a bottle of wine. He looked taken aback to see Diana, with whom he’d had harsh words when she’d last descended on Ellie. Diana scowled and turned her shoulder on him, still talking on the phone. Frank was making an appalling noise upstairs.

  Ellie hesitated. ‘Oh, do come in Archie. I wanted a word, anyway. You remember my daughter Diana, don’t you? That’s my grandson making all that noise upstairs. Diana, what about little Frank?’

  ‘Oh, leave him. He’ll tire himself out presently. No, not you …’ and she returned to her phone conversation.

  Ellie gestured Archie into the hall, her mind on the timing for supper. She really ought to be making the batter for the Yorkshire pudding at that very moment. Archie’s timing was way off, if he’d planned a romantic tête-à-tête. She invited him to come into the kitchen if he wanted to talk to her. Diana’s eyes swivelled in annoyance as Archie tiptoed past her and went into the kitchen after Ellie.

  He said, ‘I wouldn’t have thought you were old enough to have a grandson.’

  Even he recognized the falsity in his tone. He reddened. Ellie sighed, and resumed weighing out the ingredients for the Yorkshire pudding. She wondered if he expected to be asked to join them for supper. She decided that the invitation would not be given.

  He flicked on a gold-glinting smile. ‘I thought you might like a quiet supper out somewhere.’

  She shook her head, breaking an egg into the seasoned flour in the
bowl. ‘As you can see …’

  ‘Is your daughter planning to stay long?’ That didn’t come out very smoothly, either.

  ‘I’m really not sure.’ Ellie whisked in milk. ‘Half a tick, and we can go in the other room and have a cuppa or a sherry.’

  He looked totally out of place in the kitchen. He tried to perch on the edge of the kitchen table, but was not tall enough and slid off. There was an indignant squawk from Midge, who had been sleeping on one of the chairs, and then a clatter as he exited through the cat flap. ‘Gracious, what an enormous cat! Is he yours?’

  ‘He is,’ said Ellie, throwing the tea things onto a tray. ‘Would you carry this into the living room while I fetch baby Frank down? I can’t let him cry himself sick.’

  ‘Ah, suffer little children.’ Archie tried to be understanding. ‘We never had any, the wife and I.’

  Ellie gave him a social smile, recalling that, according to gossip, his ex-wife had had cause for complaint in the bed department. She whisked upstairs, retrieved a red-faced and soaking toddler from his cot, soothed and changed him and bore him back downstairs, to find Archie and Diana sitting at opposite ends of the room, with Diana pouring out the tea. Archie was eyeing Diana as if she were a time bomb.

  Diana pulled a face. ‘Mother, you’ve made this tea far too strong.’

  ‘Have I, dear? Do give Archie a cup, won’t you?’ She put little Frank on the floor on a blanket and placed his box of toys within reach.

  Diana produced a business envelope from her handbag, unfolded a single sheet of A4 with a word-processed message on it, and waved it in Archie’s direction. ‘I presume this piece of filth refers to you, Mr Whatever-your-name-is …’

  ‘Mr Benjamin,’ said Ellie, taking a seat and a cup of tea. ‘And no, if that letter says what I think it does, then Mr Benjamin is not involved. Archie, would you like a biscuit?’

  ‘What? What?’ Archie went a dull purple. ‘Is that another of those poison-pen letters? But … about me?’ His voice went up an octave.

  Diana read it out. ‘“Did you know your saintly mother was consorting with a con man, whose only interest is in her money?”’

  ‘What?’ Archie tried to laugh. ‘How absurd! Me? After Ellie’s money?’

  But the glint in his eyes as he sought and then avoided Ellie’s gaze told her that he had known she’d been left very comfortably off. Frank must have told him. Oh.

  ‘You deny it?’ Diana was well into her best tragedy queen mode.

  ‘Of course I do. It’s absurd … known Ellie for years … best friends with Frank … always working together … want to help the little lady all I can …’

  ‘You can’t deny you’ve been courting her!’

  ‘No, no. I mean, yes. That is, I would have if … a few invitations, nothing to make a fuss about, really. That’s true, isn’t it, Ellie?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ellie. ‘Really, Diana, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Archie has been very kind and helpful, but …’

  ‘And he didn’t come round specifically to ask you out this evening? I heard him ask you out, remember.’

  Archie gobbled. ‘Yes, of course I did, but no harm intended, I assure you, and then there was the question of the church notices which your dear mother kindly produced for us this week, the details not quite right, and our dear curate’s name misspelt, such a small thing, but you know people do notice, and I thought I could just mention it, make sure it didn’t happen again …’

  ‘Faugh!’ said Diana, smacking her hand down on the arm of her chair.

  Archie hesitated, mouth open. His eyes sought Ellie’s. Young Frank started bawling. Ellie picked him up, one eye on the clock. Such sound and fury, she thought. And all about nothing.

  She said, ‘Diana, you are quite wrong. Archie is innocent and so am I. Oh, and by the way, Archie, I meant to have a word with you about the church notices. I was not experienced enough on the word processor to produce them properly, so I had them done at the secretarial place in the Avenue. I’m sorry about the misspelling. I’ll have another go this week and see if I can do better.’

  Diana was not to be deflected. ‘Mr – er …’

  ‘Benjamin.’

  ‘Whatever. Can you truthfully say that you have no designs on my mother?’

  Ellie cringed. ‘Oh really, Diana. This is too much – and none of your business, anyway.’

  The doorbell rang again. Everyone froze. Then Ellie put Frank back on the floor and went to answer it.

  This time it was Roy, bearing a bunch of carnations and a bottle of wine. Ellie wondered who else was going to call. Bill, perhaps? Kate and Armand? Young Neil? She had a schoolgirlish impulse to giggle as she ushered Roy into the sitting room.

  ‘Join the party. Shall I make some fresh tea, or is it time for a sherry? Do you know Archie Benjamin? Yes, of course. You’ve met at church. This is my daughter Diana, and my grandson on the rug. Diana, this is Roy Bartrick, an architect prospecting for development work in the area.’

  Roy, like Archie, was dismayed to find Ellie in a family situation, but pulled his mouth into a superficial smile and held out his hand to Diana. She ignored his hand, so he gave a sort of welcoming wave and took a seat near Archie with a smooth comment about the weather forecast being stormy. Archie looked at his bottle of wine, and then at Roy’s offerings. Roy looked at Archie’s bottle, and set his bunch of flowers and his own bottle down on the floor in front of him.

  Ellie thought, Archie made a bid of one bottle, Roy upped the ante with a bottle plus some flowers. What is Diana going to make of that? Diana looked down at the letter in her hand, and up at Roy. Ellie could see her reassessing the potential of the newcomer. Before she could start crossquestioning him, Ellie rushed out of the room, calling back that she had to put the potatoes on, and would Diana get the sherry out?

  The potatoes had already been peeled and cut lengthways. Ellie put them on to boil, checking that she’d salted them already. The carrots were also already peeled and diced.

  Roy appeared in the kitchen, ostensibly to ask if there were any more Amontillado sherry, as the bottle was almost empty.

  Actually he came to ask, ‘How long is your daughter going to be around? Could we get away for a quiet dinner somewhere?’

  ‘Can’t you see I’m cooking supper?’

  He sniffed the air. ‘Ah, home cooking!’

  She aimed the tea towel at him, half-amused and half-annoyed. ‘You’re not getting an invitation, no matter how much you beg. Now get out of here.’

  He didn’t move. ‘Look, Ellie. We really do need to talk. Can’t you get rid of the others and—’

  ‘Get rid of who?’ Diana appeared, looking thunderous.

  Ellie rescued the pot of potatoes which had come to the boil, drained it, emptied some flour into the pan, and shook it till all the potatoes were covered with flour. ‘Out of my way everyone, please!’ She took the roasting tin out of the oven, emptied the potatoes into it, turned them over till they were basted, and returned the tin to the oven.

  Diana said, in an unpleasant tone, ‘What I want to know, Mr Arctic …’

  ‘Bartrick.’ Roy was keeping his temper beautifully.

  ‘Bar-tick,’ said Diana, deliberately misunderstanding. Roy’s mouth tightened.

  ‘Back in the other room.’ Ellie swept them before her. ‘Sherry, everyone?’

  ‘What I want to know,’ repeated Diana in a louder voice, ‘is which of you two is the fortune-hunter? Who has been turning my mother’s head with flattery?’

  Roy’s eyebrows did their juggling act. ‘Are we talking about the same woman?’

  Archie heaved himself to his feet. ‘This is outrageous!’

  Ellie intervened. ‘I quite agree. Diana, this is none of your business.’

  ‘Of course it is. Someone has been kind enough to inform me that you are being conned by a man who is only after your money. Well, whichever of you it is, perhaps you’d better understand that my mother is not the sole owner of this
house, because I am the legal owner of half of it. So put that in your pipe and smoke it! Perhaps that will make you think again!’

  Ellie caught a fleeting look of amusement on Roy’s face as Archie bent over and took her hand in his. ‘My dear Ellie, I was not going to say anything yet. Far too early, I know. But this has forced my hand. I’m not interested in your money. I’m very comfortably off, as you know. But I’ve often wondered, hoped … dreamed even, of the day when perhaps you and I …’

  Roy held up his hand. ‘I don’t believe this! The man is actually going to propose! Go on, Archie. Do it properly, if you’re going to do it at all. Get down on your knees and …’

  To Ellie’s horror, Archie felt for the arm of the nearest chair and prepared to go down on one knee. She jumped to her feet, muttering that they must excuse her, they really must, the parsnips, you know. She ran for the kitchen, where she buried her face in some tissues and bent over the kitchen sink, trying not to make too much noise. She laughed until she felt weak and had to hold on to the nearest chair for support. There was pain in the laughter, too, for that nasty little scene had shown her that not only Archie but also Roy knew more about her finances than she had realized.

  It had been sweet to be courted again, even if she had never had any intention of marrying Archie. As for Roy, well, she had to admit that a daydream or two had featured a future with him at the beginning, but the notion had floated away – not, perhaps, without a twinge of regret. No, it would never had done. He was too like Frank in many ways, and …

  Oh, she missed Frank dreadfully.

  She put the parsnips on to boil and removed the foil from the joint, basting it at the same time. She wished the men away from the house. Diana had succeeded in devaluing her relationship with both of them. Made her feel dirty. She could hear raised voices from the sitting room.