All Things Bright

by Ted Tayler

  Gus groaned. Some things were best forgotten.

  “I’ll send Geoff a text,” he said,” to tell him we won’t make it to the allotment before half-past two. After you’ve changed out of your riding gear, you can give me a hand preparing the picnic. I’ll get this shopping stored away.”

  Suzie went through to the bedroom, and Gus heard the shower running a couple of minutes later. When Suzie returned, Gus had cleared the worktop for action. They worked side by side, in silence, for thirty minutes, and then Suzie fetched the wicker basket from the hallway.

  Gus began loading the food and drink into the basket. It had been ages since that slice of toast, and his appetite was back.

  “Not bad,” said Suzie, “we’ve got everything ready, and it’s not two o’clock.”

  Suzie persuaded Gus to take a stroll along the lane, telling him the fresh air would do him good.

  “You’re quiet,” she said. “What’s the matter?”

  “Last night, I suppose,” said Gus. “I made a fool of myself, didn’t I?”

  “Don’t be daft,” said Suzie, wrapping her arms around him. “There’s nothing wrong with twenty-nine minutes.”

  Geoff Mercer gave the couple a cheery wave as he passed them by the Lamb in his car.

  “Geoff looks happy enough,” said Suzie.

  “Maybe he’s decided,” said Gus. “What if he can’t wait to get out of Devizes?”

  “That wasn’t what you said earlier,” said Suzie. “You claimed your wit and diplomacy would win the day. The battle isn’t lost yet.”

  Geoff was on his phone, still sat in his car by the allotment entrance when they arrived. Gus walked across to his garden shed and unlocked it. Suzie helped him retrieve the fold-up table and two chairs from inside. Gus placed the wicker basket on top of the table for later. Their first job was to get on with the gardening.

  “The Reverend has been busy this morning,” said Suzie admiring the tidy plot next door. “I wonder whether she’s writing her sermon this afternoon. Or she could be in the Lamb with Brett Penman.”

  “Clemency’s bicycle wasn’t chained up outside,” said Gus as he disappeared into the shed to fetch his tools.

  “Brett could have collected her from the Rectory in his car,” said Suzie.

  “Good afternoon, you two,” said Geoff Mercer. “A lovely day for it.”

  “I hope that phone call doesn’t mean you have to dash off, Geoff,” said Gus.

  “No, it was only Christine. Hark at me, only Christine. She’d kill me if she’d heard that. Why do women make such a fuss over fixtures and fittings?”

  Gus swallowed hard. It was worse than he thought. He had pinned his hopes on Christine Mercer putting her foot down regarding a move to Worcester. If she was choosing carpets and curtains, then Geoff must be past the considering stage. West Mercia would soon reveal their latest Assistant Chief Constable.

  “A costly business, moving,” said Suzie.

  “It’s been so long since we moved to a new house,” said Geoff. “You forget the hassle, don’t you?”

  “It didn’t take you long to find a place,” said Gus. “That course you attended was only weeks ago. From what I can remember, a move can take six months minimum.”

  “What’s the course got to do with it?” asked Geoff. “Christine has been in favour of us downsizing for years. We’ve driven around Devizes every weekend for the past nine months, viewing different cottages. Christine finally found one she liked and with luck we exchange contracts in four weeks.”

  “I thought you were leaving us to move to Worcester,” said Gus. “The ACC told me that West Mercia had been after you ever since you attended a course where you outshone every other speaker.”

  “I did do rather well that week,” said Geoff, “and yes, they approached me to suss out if I was available.”

  “What did you tell them?” asked Suzie.

  “That my wife and I were perfectly happy in Wiltshire, and I hoped to stay here until my retirement. Gus reminded me earlier this year I wasn’t Chief Constable material. I aspired to reach the top of the tree when I was young and foolish, but I love where I am, and what I do. The family’s more important at my age.”

  “Kenneth is still under the impression that you’re mulling over whether to accept the West Mercia offer,” said Gus. “One reason I suggested we meet was that the ACC thinks you’ve been avoiding him. Kenneth told me that any meetings you attend get cut short. You stick to the agenda and make an excuse to dash off if it looks as if he’s going to raise another subject.”

  “True,” said Geoff. “I’m frightened the PCC will offer me the ACC role that will become vacant when they’ve found a new Chief Constable.”

  “I thought you would jump at the chance,” said Suzie.

  “I would,” said Geoff, “but the timing’s wrong.”

  “You’ve lost me,” said Gus.

  “I never gave the West Mercia idea any consideration. It wasn’t for me. Setting the job situation aside, Christine and I had enough to consider with the upheaval of moving looming over us for the past few months. That’s why I’ve kept my distance. Every time I’m with the ACC, I sense he’s itching to ask me whether I’m leaving.”

  “I think I get it,” said Gus. “If the PCC called now, it would feel it was just to stop you moving, not that he thought you merited it. Why do you think the PCC would do that?”

  “Geoff thinks the PCC has found the right candidate for Chief Constable,” said Suzie.

  “He has,” said Gus, handing Geoff Mercer a plastic cup.

  “Where from?” asked Geoff.

  “Kenneth’s wife has agreed to postpone her world cruise so she can bask in the glow of her husband’s elevation to the top job for a year or two,” said Gus. “He told the PCC that his one caveat was that you were to be his replacement. Kenneth insisted that the team stayed together.”

  “The ACC’s has been fearing the worst,” said Suzie, “when you kept avoiding him he thought you were off to the Midlands.

  Gus removed the bottle of white wine from the wicker basket.

  “I shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach,” said Geoff.

  “You can have half a cup,” said Gus, “as you’re driving. We’ll bring you a bottle when you and Christine invite us to the house-warming party.”

  “Where is the idyllic cottage that Christine fell in love with?” asked Suzie.

  “Clench Common,” said Geoff. “It’s out Marlborough way, and further to drive to London Road than at present, but it’s perfect for when we’ve both retired. Christine is planning for the future.”

  “We intend to work on the land this afternoon,” said Gus, “but we can take half an hour off to enjoy the moment.”

  “You carry on,” said Geoff. “I promise not to sneak another cup of this wine. I will have one of your salmon sandwiches, though. You make a lot of food for just the two of you, don’t you?”

  Suzie laughed.

  “Gus thought he’d have his work cut out persuading you to stay. He said he’d miss you.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day when Gus Freeman got sentimental,” said Geoff.

  “I never thought I’d call you a friend,” said Gus, “but as I told Kenneth, my opinion of you has changed over the past months. I had to prevent you from leaving. The three of us work well together. If I had two unfamiliar faces from other areas as my superiors, the Crime Review Team would have a new consultant at the helm. We’re a winning team, and only a mug would jeopardise that.”

  Suzie and Gus tackled a few of the lighter tasks on the list for the afternoon. It was too warm to do anything too strenuous. Geoff lounged in one of the chairs and watched. When Gus looked over, there never seemed to be a time when Geoff’s paper plate wasn’t fully loaded. He would never change.

  “Where’s that old chap you keep mentioning?” asked Geoff. “The retired butcher.”

  Gus studied the church clock next door.

  “It’s a quarter past
three,” he said. “Bert’s eighty-five, so he paces himself. On a scorching afternoon, he might sit under the apple trees in his garden, dozing. If he thinks something needs attention on his allotment, he’ll arrive here around five. After an hour’s work, Bert will reckon he’s earned a pint of cider in the Lamb.”

  “Then he stays there, sat on a stool at the end of the bar, chatting to all and sundry until chucking out time,” said Suzie.

  “It’s the company he craves at his age, not the cider,” said Gus. “He’s always got several flagons of the stuff at home, I know, I’ve helped him drink it.”

  “I ought to get going,” said Geoff. “Christine will wonder where I am. She mentioned up-lighters on the phone.”

  “Don’t run off yet,” said Gus. “I said there was another item on the agenda for this afternoon. What’s the story with this Geraldine Packenham character? Suzie told me she upset Kassie Trotter yesterday, and when I spoke with Kassie, the last time I was at London Road, she said she and Vera were on staggered lunch breaks now. All in the interests of efficiency.”

  “Geraldine came highly recommended,” said Geoff. “Gareth Francis got transferred to Gablecross, and at first, the PCC thought we could cope without a replacement. But the county lines cases have stretched our resources as thin as they can go without breaking.”

  “I could almost welcome Gareth back,” said Gus. “His thinking is clearer these days; perhaps Jake Latimer is a good influence. Anything would be better than someone who’s trying too hard.”

  “DI Packenham shouldn’t trouble you, Gus,” said Geoff. “Her brief is to raise London Road performance, initially in the administration section. Kenneth won’t allow her freedom to interfere with either our refreshments or the Crime Review Team.”

  “Glad to hear it,” said Gus. “We must preserve Kassie’s baking at all costs.”

  “Agreed, Gus,” said Geoff. “Leave it with me. I’ll ask Geraldine to take things easy.”

  “I’ve had a thought,” said Suzie. “Now everything is out in the open, who will be in line for Geoff’s position when he moves up the ladder?”

  “We promote from within, wherever possible,” said Geoff. “We have several DI’s at London Road with varying levels of experience. The Chief Constable and his two Assistants will make recommendations to the PCC. He will be under pressure from other parties to select a certain type of candidate. Who knows which way he’ll jump?”

  “I don’t need to ask whether you’d be interested,” said Gus, looking at Suzie. “It’s only a matter of time before you move up the ladder.”

  “I’ve got less experience than several of my colleagues, Gus,” said Suzie. “It’s not likely that they will ask me. Geraldine has only been a DI for a year or two, so I wouldn’t panic about finding her in Geoff’s office when you report on a Monday morning.”

  “There’s plenty of water to flow under the bridge before we need to face that decision,” said Geoff. “Are you two sure you’ve had enough grub? I can take a doggy bag if you don’t want to carry it home.”

  “You scoffed most of it already,” said Gus. “Take the food, but leave the wine. Suzie and I can drown our sorrows. We’ve got to accept that you and Kenneth Truelove will be around for a considerable while yet.”

  “That’s what you wanted all along, you crafty fox,” said Geoff. “How’s that latest case of yours going?”

  “We have two potential suspects,” said Gus, “that we’re interviewing on Monday. We could tie up loose ends after that, or be on the Wilts & Berks canal without a paddle. I can’t quite work out what it is I’ve missed yet.”

  “Well, good hunting on Monday. Despite what I’ve learned this afternoon, I still need the PCC to make the first move. Can you let slip to Vera Butler, or better still, Kassie Trotter, that Christine is shopping for up-lighters for her new cottage deep in the Wiltshire countryside?”

  “I’m sure we could arrange that, Geoff,” said Suzie, “leave it with me.”

  Geoff Mercer wrapped the rest of the food in several serviettes and walked to his car.

  As he drove away, Gus and Suzie raised a plastic cup containing the last of the white wine.

  “Let’s drink to the restoration of the status quo for the foreseeable future,” said Gus.

  “Let’s,” said Suzie, “I like things just the way they are.”

  CHAPTER 11

  With Geoff Mercer out of the way, Gus and Suzie spent the next hour alone working on the vegetable patch. They had plenty to discuss. Geoff would soon break the news to Christine that as well as the new home to look forward to, her husband was to take one last step up the ladder. They both knew Christine would be a happy bunny.

  Suzie evaluated her DI colleagues from London Road to determine who would be the best fit for the Detective Chief Inspector role. Gus was unimpressed with any of the names she mentioned, and Suzie accused him of being biased.

  “The worst thing that could happen would be if they drafted in one of the ‘woke’ brigade,” he muttered. “That Packenham woman is bad enough. Geoff’s role needs strong leadership and management skills, which he has aplenty, but he doesn’t act as SIO on cases these days. He’s the lynchpin that the ACC relies on to keep the various teams functioning at the highest level.”

  “A candidate’s seniority is more valuable in the final analysis,” said Suzie. “Someone with the respect of each team leader. I suppose that’s what typifies every successful team; even yours.”

  Gus resolved that whoever got the job would have to be someone he could respect. There were frequent occasions when he asked himself why he’d ever agreed to return to work. The cold cases intrigued him, but unless his ways of working had the approval of those he reported to, it would be a fruitless exercise. This allotment would see him more often.

  Kenneth Truelove and Geoff Mercer had benefitted from giving Gus his head. So had several senior detectives who hadn’t found answers that Gus and his team had in the past months. Three wheels were in place, but it took just one dodgy fourth wheel to make the car undrivable.

  There was plenty to look forward to at London Road.

  True to form, just as the old clock on the church tower next door gathered itself to strike the fifth hour, a car pulled into the gateway. Brett Penman and his grandfather had arrived.

  “You appear to have caught the sun, Miss Ferris,” said Bert, touching the peak of his battered straw hat. “Good afternoon, Mr Freeman. My word, your patch looks a sight better than yesterday.”

  “It’s been warm work, Bert,” agreed Suzie, “I was out riding my horse early today, and we’ve been here since just after two, so I’m not surprised. I feel as if I’m glowing.”

  Bert gave Suzie a quizzical look that Gus didn’t miss.

  “I’ve kept Bert out of the heat as much as possible today,” said Brett, when his grandfather went to open his shed. “He needs to remember how old he is, slow and steady will benefit him these days. It’s tough getting the message through that hard head of his.”

  “How are things progressing with the house and your job?” asked Suzie.

  “I move into one of Monty Jennings’s cottages next Monday, the thirtieth; and then, I start work in Wootton Bassett on Wednesday. The cottage is part-furnished. My belongings from Canada are en route, but won’t arrive for another five to seven days. Bert has a contact in the village whose son will help get my gear into the cottage during the day, whenever that is, so I won’t need to take any time off work. I hope to get everything in its proper place next weekend.”

  “It will be a relief to have a place of your own,” said Suzie.

  “Will we get an invitation to a house-warming party?” asked Gus.

  “I’m sure there will be several names on that guest list, Mr Freeman,” Bert called out. “Irene and me, and the Reverend, of course.”

  “Where is Clemency?” asked Suzie.

  “Finishing tomorrow’s sermon,” said Brett. “I see my grandfather’s getting stuck in over there
. I’d better lend a helping hand. See you later.”

  “Are we staying much longer, Gus?” asked Suzie.

  “Have you had enough?” asked Gus. Suzie nodded.

  “We had a late night last night. If we stay here, we’ll join the gang in the Lamb. As much as I enjoy their company, tonight I just want to chill out at home. What d’you say?”

  “I’ve heard you call it home several times in the past twenty-four hours,” said Gus. “What more could I want? The Lamb will be there another night.”

  Monday, 23rd July 2018

  The start of a new week dawned. Gus and Suzie felt refreshed. A quiet Saturday evening listening to music and chatting had been followed by Sunday lunch in a large family pub near Redpost Drive on the A3102 overlooking the adjoining allotments.

  Suzie wondered where they were heading as Gus drove into Devizes and out onto the Beckhampton straight.

  “We’re not going to one of our usual haunts, are we?” she said.

  “Variety is the spice of life,” said Gus.

  After a great pub lunch, Gus suggested they took a walk. The car would be fine in the large car park for an hour. He showed Suzie the spot where someone saw Stacey Read arguing with another teenager. Then they followed the route he and Neil Davis took onto the nature reserve and the footpath beside the canal.

  “Look at the number of people enjoying the beautiful surroundings,” said Suzie. “Couples just out for a walk, like us. Cyclists and joggers are taking advantage of the footpath for exercise.”

  “Family fun at its best in an English summer,” said Gus. “There were four canal trips scheduled for ‘Dragonfly’ today. They started at half-past ten from the landing stage at Wichelstowe. The last cruise leaves there at a quarter to three.”

  “How long before it sails past?” asked Suzie, looking over her shoulder.

  “The trip is twenty-five minutes out and twenty-five back, so I should have timed things to perfection.”

  Gus and Suzie continued to walk towards the furthest navigable point. When Gus spotted the steps leading from the road, he heard the Dragonfly’s engines' throb.