by Agatha Frost
“When did you sign them?” Dot asked.
“March,” Julia mumbled pathetically. “They were on my kitchen counter for months before I could even open them.”
“It’s only July!” Dot cried. “Oh, Julia. You silly, silly girl. It needs to go before a judge before it’s official, and that’s only if you’ve both signed the agreement.” Dot was just echoing what the lawyer had told her on the phone the night before. “Eat your dinner. You can’t go hungry.”
Julia looked down at the lamb chops and mash, but she wasn’t hungry. She had been pushing the food around the plate, as had Sue, who looked as upset as Julia at everything that had happened. Julia tried to smile at her sister, to reassure her that she was fine, but she knew her eyes betrayed her.
“I can hit him,” Jessie remarked suddenly after pushing her plate away. “Or even better, I’ll get Billy to do it.”
“What good will that do?” Sue asked with a shake of her head as her hands rested on her bump. “Violence doesn’t solve anything.”
“It will make me feel better,” Jessie mumbled. “And a black eye might make Julia feel better.”
Julia wasn’t sure what would make her feel better. She picked up her phone and called Barker for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It had been an hour since his phone had stopped ringing, now going straight through to his voicemail. Julia had tried to leave a message more than once, but she knew nothing she could say would fix the mess she had caused.
“There’s still a murderer out there,” Dot said softly, reaching out to touch Julia’s hand. “That should keep your mind off things.”
“Is that supposed to cheer her up?” Sue asked with a laugh. “Half of the village think Julia did it, and the other half think Jessie did it, and the rest think both of them did it together.”
“You can’t have more than two halves,” Jessie corrected her with a roll of her eyes. “That baby has pickled your already tiny brain.”
Sue sat up in her chair, clearly offended. Julia let out a small laugh. It was the first time she had felt an emotion all day that wasn’t dread. Sue dropped her stern expression and joined in the laughing.
“Leave my little lime out of things,” Sue said with a rub of her stomach.
“I don’t like limes,” Dot mumbled thoughtfully. “Lemons, on the other hand, they’re a real fruit. They taste delicious and are great for polishing silverware.”
“They taste the same,” Jessie fired across the table. “Both sour.”
A heated debate about the difference between lemons and limes started across the table, but Julia had already tuned out. She was glad they were talking about something other than her divorce, or lack of one. She picked up the letter and read over the legal jargon that her lawyer had sent special delivery overnight, just confirming what he had told her on the phone.
When the debate died down, neither side having won, Julia helped Dot clear away the dishes, while Sue and Jessie went through to the sitting room where the café’s leftover cakes were waiting for them.
“I think Rosemary is dating Jerrad,” Julia thought aloud as she scraped her dinner into the bin. “She’s twenty years older than him.”
“Men are fickle,” Dot replied as she filled the sink with water and washing up liquid. “One minute they want someone younger because they feel old, and then they want someone older because they realise twenty-year-old girls have empty heads and nothing in common. What did Rosemary have to say for herself?”
“Nothing much,” Julia said as she closed the bin and placed her plate on the pile of others. “She didn’t seem to care that her husband was dead. If she had suspected me of actually killing him, I’m sure she would have thanked me.”
“I don’t blame her,” Dot mumbled as she snapped on her pink rubber gloves. “Your father and Anthony were cut from the same cloth. Both selfish, money-obsessed fools. If they can’t throw money at something, they’re not interested.”
Julia thought about the five hundred pounds still sitting in her biscuit tin. She knew her father’s vision was clouded by money, but she knew he wasn’t as bad as Anthony had been.
“Did you know Anthony’s mum?” Julia asked.
“I still do,” Dot said as she put the first plate on the draining board. “Not that I’ve seen Barb in a while. She doesn’t get down from the nursing home that often. We used to be quite close. Brian and Anthony were the best of friends from being knee high, right up until that nasty business with Anthony taking your father’s share of their company. I didn’t speak to Barb again after that, just on principle. I might not be your father’s biggest fan, but I have my integrity.”
“I should speak to her,” Julia said, almost to herself. “She might know something useful.”
“I doubt it,” Dot said as she added the second dish to the draining board. “Her and Anthony were never close. She once told me she looked for the mark of the devil on his forehead when he was sleeping. But, if you want to talk to her, we’ll go now.”
Dot snapped off her rubber gloves and tossed them on the side, leaving the rest of the dishes for later.
“Now?” Julia asked as Dot grabbed her coat from under the stairs. “I don’t think it’s a good time.”
“No time like the present!” she announced as she pulled on her beige coat. “It will keep your mind busy. Girls, we’re going out. We’ll be back in a jiffy. Don’t touch my good biscuits!”
Julia almost protested, but her gran was right. She needed something to take her mind off things, and talking to Anthony’s mother provided that distraction, if only temporarily.
Oakwood Nursing Home sat on the outskirts of Peridale, surrounded by acres of sprawling countryside and no other signs of life for miles. They took a small winding lane up to the old manor house, which dated back to the early 19th century, according to Dot. It looked like a luxury hotel, rather than a place where the elderly would spend their twilight years.
“If I start dribbling and you need to put me in a home, I’d like it to be this one,” Dot whispered as she looked up at the canopy of oak tree leaves above them. “Not that you’d ever be able to afford it.”
Julia’s tyres crunched against the gravel as she followed the signs for guest parking, which took her around the back of the building. When they parked next to the half a dozen other cars, they walked back to the entrance, pausing to stare at the beautiful stone water feature directly in front of the grand doors.
Once inside, the scent of flowers hit them immediately. They walked along the marble floor of the grand entrance hall towards a reception desk, which was filled with fresh, white lilies.
“This is the life!” Dot exclaimed excitedly into Julia’s ear. “Luxury at its finest! Ol’ Barb has done alright for herself here.”
Julia approached the reception desk while her gran marvelled at the grand chandelier glittering above. Applying her friendliest smile, Julia waited until the well-dressed young nurse behind the reception desk looked up from a copy of Sense and Sensibility. She waited until she finished the page she was reading, before turning and looking up with a smile so wide, it looked too bright to be anything but genuine.
“Hello,” she cooed softly. “Welcome to Oakwood Nursing Home. How can I help you today?”
“We want to speak with Barb,” Julia said, realising she didn’t even know the woman’s surname “Barb Kennedy?”
“Barbara?” the nurse asked with a nod. “We have a Barbara here.”
“She went by Barb in my day,” Dot mumbled out of the corner of her mouth. “Probably too common for lady muck now.”
“Are you on her approved visiting list?” the nurse asked, her smile still beaming. “Is she expecting you?”
“What is this?” Dot asked, slapping her hands on the desk. “Prison?”
The nurse’s smile faltered for the first time as she recoiled her head. Her smile bounced back in a second before she rolled across the marble floor in her chair to the computer.
“The
y’re going to ask us to take our shoes off and send us through scanners next,” Dot whispered. “Ridiculous!”
“Rosemary?” the nurse asked, looking up at them.
“Yes, that’s me,” Dot said quickly, pushing Julia out of the way, plastering a smile on her face. “I am Rosemary.”
“Barbara wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, but I’m sure she won’t mind the early visit,” the nurse said as she typed away at her keyboard. “And you are?”
“This is my daughter,” Dot said before Julia could answer.
“Gareth?” the nurse asked, her brows arching as she stared suspiciously at Dot.
“It’s short for Garethina,” Dot blurted out, stamping on Julia’s foot to let her know not to say a word. “It’s a very common name in Germany.”
“You’re German?”
“Fräulein uske-be clair!” Dot chanted enthusiastically. “May we enter your fine establishment now?”
“Barbara is in the television room enjoying a cup of tea,” the nurse said as she pressed a button under the desk, which buzzed and unlocked the nearest door. “Through there, follow it down to the bottom, and take the first right.”
“I’m sure we’ll find it,” Dot mumbled, slipping her hand through Julia’s and dragging her to the door, before pausing and turning back to the nurse. “You’re only a receptionist, you know. You’re not holding the keys to heaven.”
With that, Dot tugged Julia through the door before the young woman could reply. Julia didn’t need to see her face to know she had probably lost her bright smile.
“I didn’t know you spoke German,” Julia whispered as she pulled her hand free.
“I don’t,” Dot said with a shrug. “That was complete nonsense, but it sounded good, didn’t it? You’ve got to think on your toes, Julia! Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve cracked so many murder cases! I’ll chalk this one down to you having a lot on your mind. Ah, here we go! The television room.”
From what Julia knew of nursing homes, the television room was usually a dark and depressing space were the silent elderly faced a tiny, ancient TV, while watching Cash in the Attic, Songs of Praise, and Countdown in between bouts of medication. What she hadn’t been expecting was an airy, open room, lined with bookshelves, and filled with chatter and laughter. Comfy chairs cluttered the room, facing in every direction other than the TV, which appeared to be there purely for background noise. A group of men were gathered around a pool table in the middle of the room, taking it in turns to pot the ball, while the rest of the residents looked on, chatting in between pots and cheering when a ball made its way into a pocket.
“There she is,” Dot whispered, marching forward to a group of women who were sat in a cluster of armchairs in the corner of the room as they played a game of chess.
“You’re cheating, Barb!” one of the women exclaimed. “You’re far too good at this!”
“Just because I’m about to win, it doesn’t mean I’m cheating,” Barb replied with a wicked grin. “Checkmate!”
The other woman sat back in her chair and sighed, while Barb sat back and crossed one tan-tight covered leg over the other, looking pleased with herself. Julia wasn’t sure if she had been expecting a frail old woman, but that’s not what Barb was. Just like her gran, she looked at be in her eighties, and also like her gran, didn’t look like she was ready to slow down and accept old age just yet. She was wearing a white and pink floral blouse, and her white hair, which looked impossibly long, was swept up into a giant bun that sat neatly on the top of her head, not a single hair out of place.
“Dorothy?” Barb called out. “Is that you?”
“It is, Barb,” Dot said. “You’re looking well.”
“As are you,” Barb said through a strained smile. “Ladies, excuse me.”
Barb got out of her low armchair with ease, nodding to the women in her group as she did. She hooked her arm through Dot’s and led her through open French doors and into the never-ending garden.
“I didn’t realise Oakwood was taking applications,” Barb said as Julia lingered behind. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”
“I’m just here visiting,” Dot said. “Well, we’re here to see you, actually. This is my granddaughter, Julia.”
Barb sat on a low wall overlooking the saturated vegetation ahead of them, its hue impossibly vivid. She smiled her recognition at Julia, before narrowing her eyes, and snapping her fingers together.
“Brian’s daughter?” she asked, looking Julia up and down. “I haven’t seen you since you were in nappies! How’s your mum?”
“Dead,” Julia answered.
“Of course,” Barb mumbled, tapping her chin with her finger before it drifted up to her temple. “The memory fades with age. I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean any offence. What’s the reason for your visit today? I’d like to say it was to rebuild old bridges, but I know you don’t do anything for nothing, Dorothy.”
“It’s Dot, now,” she corrected her. “As you are now Barbara.”
“We all change, Dorothy,” she said, ignoring her gran’s correction. “You don’t look a day over eighty-nine!”
“I’m only eighty-three,” Dot seethed through pursed lips. “You know I’m five years younger than you.”
“Ah, yes,” Barb said, tapping her temple once more. “The memory.”
Dot glanced atJulia out of the corner of her eye, giving her the impression it was nothing to do with her memory, and more to do with this being how Barb was.
“I assume you’ve heard?” Dot asked.
“About my son’s murder?” she replied coolly. “Of course. News travels fast in this village.”
“You don’t seem upset,” Dot said bluntly. “He was your son.”
“You know we weren’t close,” she said with a wave of her hand. “One reluctant flying visit every Friday for ten years doesn’t constitute a close relationship. He looked at his watch the entire time. I was a chore to him. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Julia was struck by the woman’s coldness, despite delivering everything with a sweet smile. She couldn’t imagine her gran being so callous if her own son died, no matter how strained their relationship was. Julia wasn’t a mother, so maybe she didn’t understand the complexities that came with it, but she had Jessie, and no matter how far apart they might drift, they were connected forever, and if anything ever happened to Jessie, Julia wouldn’t be able to brush it off as something as trivial as a change in the weather.
“The thing is, Barb, somebody is trying to frame my granddaughter for your son’s murder,” Dot said, glancing uncomfortably at Julia. “Naturally, she didn’t do it, but she found the body, and there is some rather - let’s say - incriminating, evidence.”
“Okay?” Barb replied, glancing back at the television room as though she wanted nothing more than to return to her game of chess. “How can I help?”
“We were just wondering if you knew if Anthony had any enemies,” Julia asked, speaking up for the first time. “I just want to piece things together so I can clear my name.”
Barb leaned forward and looked at Julia, her lips twisting as though she was containing a laugh. She held it back for a second before letting it burst free as she looked between the two of them.
“How long have you got?” Barb asked with a chuckle. “My son’s favourite hobby was making enemies. From the time he first realised that money equalled power he was out for himself. He was a lovely baby, you know. He first stole from my purse when he was four. Took a shilling and six pence and used it to con one of his friends out of their Slinky. Sold it on to another for half a crown. Sometimes, I wonder if there was anything I could have done, but some children just come out wrong.”
That sounded like the Anthony Julia knew. Even when she had been a child, he would dig through the toys her mother would buy her from car boot sales to see if any of them were rare or worth a penny or two.
“We were looking for some specific names,” Julia asked.
; “Ask your father,” Barb snapped, her smile dropping. “How did you even get in here anyway? Neither of you is on my list.”
Barb looked like she was going to continue with her rant, but a young nurse with long dark hair appeared behind them, holding a silver tray with a cup of pills and a glass of water.
“Ah! Yelena!” Barb exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Just in time. Dot, it was nice catching up. Julia, good seeing you again. I must go and take my pills. You know what it’s like at this age.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Yelena said, her accent clearly Eastern European. “But you said –”
“You’re not interrupting anything,” Dot mumbled as she scratched the side of her head, her brows high up her forehead. “See you around, Barb.”
With that, she pushed off the wall and walked back into the television room, followed by Yelena who smiled meekly at Dot and Julia over her shoulder. Julia looked on in disbelief as Barb took her pills, shooed Yelena away, and started another game of chess. Just like Rosemary, she was totally unfazed. She wondered if this was a natural reaction she was going to receive from anybody close to Anthony.
“Imagine being that evil that your own mother doesn’t mourn your death,” Dot said. “Let’s get out of here. I can feel them trying to absorb your youth like a nicotine patch.”
They hurried back through the television room, back down the corridor, and into the entrance hall. The receptionist jumped up and ran forward, clutching something in her hands.
“Take a brochure?” she asked Dot with a bright smile. “We offer competitive rates.”
“Thank you,” Dot said, taking the thick, green volume before walking towards the exit and dumping it straight into the small bin next to the door. “I take it back, Julia. If I ever need putting in one of these places, take me to the fields and shoot me like a horse with a broken leg. Did you see how cheery they all were? It’s practically sickening!”
