The Wild Wood Enquiry

by Ann Purser

  When he had married her, he foolishly thought she had been the undoubted best of the year’s debutante set, birdbrained and fit only for the pleasures of the season. But he soon learned that he had misjudged her. She was far from birdbrained and had several moneymaking little businesses on the side. Agencies for exclusive tableware, costly fabrics, that kind of thing. He discovered that one or two of them were not entirely snow white but not seriously dodgy enough to cause her to flee her beloved London.

  “Now then, Whippy,” he said, as he pulled on his clothes, “we have to make a plan. You and I are going to ignore the Honourable Katherine next door, and carry on with our routine as usual. If necessary, we shall proceed incognito.” He looked down at her enquiring little face and shrugged. “Well, perhaps not,” he said, and they went down to breakfast.

  DEIRDRE ARRIVED AT Springfields at ten o’clock to find Ivy and Roy sitting in the lounge playing cribbage. They looked up and nodded. “Sit you down, for a minute, Deirdre,” Ivy said. “I’ve nearly won. We’ve got ten matches on this game.”

  “One of these days,” said Deirdre, “you’ll play for real money and break the bank.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Ivy answered. “And what’s all this about an emergency meeting of Enquire Within this morning? We got a message from Gus. Something about his ex-wife. Is it our new assignment?”

  “Not sure, but I think I should prepare the way before we meet.” Deirdre then gave them a blow-by-blow account of her conversation with Gus last evening, and suggested they have coffee and discuss the likely outcome of the meeting.

  “We’re not agony aunts,” said Ivy, scooping up her matches. “It can’t be anything to do with a marriage reconciliation or some such rubbish.”

  “Not likely,” said Deirdre. “Gus’s ex-wife is a tricky customer from the sound of it. He’s more likely to want us to get rid of her, I should think. In the nicest possible way, of course.”

  “Trust that Miriam Blake to stick her oar in where it’s not wanted,” said Ivy, and Roy shook his head. “She’s not a bad sort, Ivy,” he said. “Been a very good neighbour to Gus up to now.”

  “And now she’s gone too far, most likely. Ah well, we shall see.”

  GUS SET OFF for the meeting just before eleven o’clock, and by this time had seen nothing of either Katherine or Miriam. As he went by his neighbour’s house, the curtains in the front bedroom window were still drawn across. He frowned. He knew that Miriam would be in the shop by now. Very likely she had left Kath in bed, expecting her to be up and around by lunchtime.

  As he approached the shop, he slowed. He was already late, but perhaps he would pop in and buy some of the chocolates that Ivy loved, just to oil the wheels. The shop was empty, apart from Miriam behind the counter, and she greeted him with a tentative smile. “Morning, Gus,” she said. “Lovely morning.”

  “Is it? Can’t say that I’ve noticed,” he said glumly.

  “Ah, that’s because you wish you’d given hospitality to your wife, I expect,” she said. “We had such a lovely talk last evening. She really opened her heart to me, you know.”

  “She hasn’t got one,” Gus said. “But she’s very good at pretending.”

  “Now, now,” said Miriam, as if to a recalcitrant child. “I found her an extremely pleasant companion. I think she was exhausted. Still fast asleep when I left. The rest will do her a power of good.”

  “Mm. I’ll have these chocolates, please,” Gus said.

  “For Katherine? Oh, how nice!”

  “No, not for Katherine. They are for Miss Ivy Beasley at Springfields, which is where I am heading. Thanks, Miriam. Good morning.”

  Miriam watched him until he vanished behind the trees outside Springfields. It was just as if she was in the centre of one of those lovely stories in her women’s magazine, where husband and wife have had an acrimonious separation, and then, little by little, helped through by an understanding friend, they come together, and live happily ever after. “And I am the understanding friend,” she said aloud, feeling a warm glow of anticipation.

  But then, as she said later to her friend Rose Budd, who lived at the end of the terrace, she came to her senses. The last thing she wanted was Gus reunited with his wife! Hadn’t she spent months softening him up, ready for the time when he decided he couldn’t do without her? No, she must be pleasant to Katherine but get her out of the way as soon as possible. Rose Budd had advised caution. “Never come between husband and wife,” she had said.

  BY THE TIME he reached Springfields, Gus was fully functioning and quite certain of the plan he would suggest to Enquire Within for their next assignment. He was unsure how they would take it but hoped his powers of persuasion had not completely deserted him.

  “Better late than never,” Ivy said, greeting him without a smile. “The coffee must be cold, Deirdre.”

  “Oh no, not in my new machine,” Deirdre said. “Hi, Gus. You look as if you need a strong black injection. Here, this’ll help you to tell us all. We’re consumed with curiosity!”

  “Not much more to tell,” Gus said, sitting down and placing his cup on the table in front of him. Deirdre noticed how his hand shook, rattling the cup in its saucer.

  “My ex-wife, Kath, has turned up with only a couple of hours’ notice, asking for asylum from an unnamed threat. I know her only too well to accept her brief explanation and flatly refused, but unfortunately Miriam Blake turned up and, no doubt thinking she was doing us a favour, offered her sanctuary for a few days.”

  “And is that all right, then, old chap?” said Roy sympathetically. He was fond of Gus, in spite of his irritating habit of making a mystery out of everything, and he too had noticed the shaky hand and tired-looking eyes.

  Gus shook his head. “No, Roy, I’m afraid it is far from all right. Kath would never arrive to ask a favour of me unless she had nowhere else to go. There is certainly something serious afoot, as they say, but she’s not likely to tell me yet.”

  “Would she tell that silly Miriam Blake woman, do you think?” Ivy had never had a high opinion of poor Miriam and thought it extremely unlikely that someone in big trouble would confide in her.

  Gus shrugged. “Who can tell? I never knew if Kath was telling the truth when I was married to her and certainly don’t know now.” He looked round at the eager faces and said that he appreciated their concern, but they should get on with Enquire Within business.

  “But isn’t this what we’re concerned with?” Deirdre said.

  “Ah, now that’s where it gets difficult and why I called us together,” said Gus. “There may well be something for us to take on, but until there are further developments, I can’t really say. It might be useful to itemise what we know. Kath is a divorcée, mixing in society circles in London and carrying on a number of small businesses. Some of these may be shady. She is attractive and clever, and she is in trouble. Possibly big trouble. She has landed herself on an unsophisticated, unsuspecting woman, who has a history of unwise romantic associations and poor judgement. Miriam Blake is very vulnerable, and I feel partly responsible for her, since Katherine was my wife. And in spite of everything, I wouldn’t want harm to come to Kath.”

  “That was a long speech, Augustus,” Ivy said, and continued, “I don’t know about you others, but if you ask me, I say we should support Gus as a member of our team and prepare ourselves for a crime that hasn’t happened yet.”

  Roy looked at her admiringly. “Well said, my love. Though quite how we do that, I am not sure. Can you help us out, Gus?”

  Deirdre interrupted, and looking directly at Gus, she said, “And is that really all you know? All you can tell us?” She asked without much hope of a constructive answer, knowing from past experience that Gus always knew much more than he intended telling them.

  Gus ignored her question, and suggested that he outline a plan of action. “This may seem a risky first step,” he said, “but I would like to enlist Miriam’s help. I shall persuade her to relay anything tha
t Kath might say relating to her flight from London, and at the same time assure her of our support if needed. I might even suggest one or two seemingly innocent questions Miriam might ask.”

  Silence. Then Roy cleared his throat. “Oh dear me,” he said. “I am not at all sure that Miriam Blake would be the right person.…” He tailed off and looked at Ivy. She nodded and said that if anyone asked her, she wouldn’t trust Miss Blake to add two and two and make four, let alone take on a complicated task like Gus was suggesting.

  “Oh, I don’t know, Ivy,” Deirdre said. “She’s not stupid. Well, not very, anyway. I think it’s worth a try. But I would like to say this,” she added firmly. “It may well be that Katherine ex-Halfhide has had a row with a boyfriend and needs to get out of his way for a bit. Something really unimportant like that. I don’t want to be a wet blanket, but I suggest we wait for a few days, and see what happens.”

  Seven

  DEIRDRE HAD FELT sorry for Gus, and even though she suspected that his ex-wife might have some right on her side, she took pity on him and asked him to stay and have lunch with her. He accepted with gratitude, but said he must dash back and give Whippy her midday meat and biscuit. Deirdre said surely the dog could wait a couple of hours, but Gus insisted. “Back soon,” he said.

  The lunch was duly prepared, and Deirdre sat down with the morning paper, glancing at her watch now and then, and finally getting up to turn down the heat under a pan of soup, swearing that it was the last time she invited Gus Halfhide to lunch.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said, puffing back into the house. “Whippy had escaped somehow, and I had to search everywhere. She has no road sense, so I couldn’t leave her to find her way home.”

  “So did you find her?” Deirdre’s tone was sharp.

  “Yep, I met her on her way home from the woods, carrying a baby rabbit. Dead, of course.”

  “Gus! Please, spare me the details! Anyway, the soup’s burnt now, so I’ll open another carton and you can calm down in the garden. It’s lovely out there. I’ll bring lunch out.”

  Gus wandered out, and stared down into the dark depths of the goldfish pond, dug out by hand by Deirde’s late husband, Bert. His head was still full of this morning’s meeting, and then his treacherous memory took him back to the fashionable church of St Paul’s, Knightsbridge, where Katherine had stood, slender and lovely in her long white dress, her father in his colourful uniform by her side. Both were waiting nervously for Augustus Halfhide, brilliant scholar and fledgling spy. A glowing future before the pair of them, everyone said, and until it all went wrong, he had believed them.

  “Gus! Lunch is ready!”

  He looked up, disorientated for a second or two, and then waved. “Coming!” he shouted, like any suburban husband summoned by his loving wife in a frilly pinny. What was it Katherine had said so cruelly? How are the mighty fallen.…

  “WELL, THAT MEETING was a waste of time,” Ivy said as she and Roy sat in Springfields’ lounge. “Something and nothing, if you ask me.”

  “I thought it might well be interesting,” said Roy mildly. “If Gus’s wife is really in trouble, we might be able to help her out with the added bonus of inside knowledge. After all, although they have been separated for years, he must still know something about her present life. Were there any children, Ivy?”

  Ivy shook her head. “As far as we know, none. But then, when you think how little we actually do know about Augustus, he could well have a tribe of six assorted offspring. As for being interesting, I think it’s much more likely to be dangerous. Besides, I don’t really approve of Enquire Within team members asking for help with personal problems. Doesn’t seem right, if you ask me.”

  Roy smiled at her fondly. “I am sure you are right, dearest, but at the moment, and until we know more, I tend to think it is probably even more important that we help our close friends.”

  “Close friends?” replied Ivy. “Would you call Gus a close friend? He may be a close friend of Deirdre’s—”

  “Very close,” interjected Roy, with a grin.

  Ivy ignored the interruption. “But I wouldn’t say we knew enough about him. Still, you may be right. After this investigation, if Miriam Blake worms dark secrets out of that Katherine woman, we may know a whole lot more. Perhaps more than he would like.”

  MIRIAM BLAKE HANDED over duty in the shop at half past two and set off for home in a very different mood from the elation she felt on leaving her visitor sweetly sleeping this morning. She had not had many customers, leaving her plenty of time to think. How could she have been so silly? She had plans for Gus, and of course she did not want Gus and Katherine to be reunited! No, she would do her very best to prevent it.

  She walked swiftly down Hangman’s Lane and up to her front garden gate. There she stopped, frowning. Good heavens, the lazy woman had not even drawn back the curtains. Determined on a different regime designed to get rid of Katherine as soon as possible, she opened her door and went through to the kitchen. She felt the kettle. It was stone cold, so she was probably still in bed.

  “Well, Mrs. Ex-Halfhide,” she muttered to herself, “if you think I’m waiting on you hand and foot, you have another think coming.” She walked through to the foot of the stairs and listened. No sounds coming from the spare room. “Yoo-hoo!” she called. “Time to get up?”

  There was no reply, and Miriam sighed. This was going to be more difficult than she had thought. She climbed the stairs, stamping her feet to warn Katherine of her approach and knocked firmly. No answer. With rising anger, Miriam pushed open the door and looked inside. There was nobody there, not in the unused bed or in the small bathroom next door.

  Miriam looked carefully around upstairs, including in the cupboards, which made her smile. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself, Katherine’s up and dressed, made her bed, packed her bag and dumped it with Gus and gone out for a walk or something.…

  She returned to the kitchen and walked out into the garden. No sign of her. Ah well, she thought, the woman is a townie and probably went out in search of what she insists on calling “air like champagne.” She could have gone anywhere round the village or up through the woods. No food for her, then, Miriam decided, unless she’s back here in the next half hour.

  After a solitary snack, eaten with little appetite, Miriam felt she had been taken for a ride by Katherine Halfhide. She had been so friendly last night, telling her all about Gus’s early life when they were married. Some of it she should probably have kept to herself! But now, this morning, there had been no note of explanation, no indication of where she had gone or when she might return. She had behaved as if Miriam were running a boardinghouse for travelling salesmen. Well, two could play at that game. There would be no cooked tea if she came back hungry. Miriam was off to the Women’s Institute meeting this evening, calling for her friend Rose Budd on the way, and would have a quick sandwich before leaving.

  Perhaps she would just nip along to Rose’s cottage at the end of the row and check on what they had to take with them. A demonstrator was booked for this evening, showing members how to make delicious dishes from ingredients collected from the countryside. Nettle soup, thought Miriam with a shudder, and mushroom omelette made with poisonous toadstools and pigeon’s eggs! Still, they had to show willingness. Numbers were dropping from the membership, and Miriam couldn’t bear the thought of Barrington without a WI.

  Rose Budd was in her back garden but heard Miriam calling. Her hands were covered in sand from the children’s sand boat, a new trendy toy supposed to be cleaner than the usual sand pit. “Some hopes!” Rose had said to her husband, David. Her two boys were capable of messing up the Queen Elizabeth cruise liner, let alone a boat-shaped wooden box with a climbing mast, filled with sand and plastic buckets.

  She heard Miriam and sighed. Miriam Blake was years older but a good friend. Rose knew she wasn’t overfond of children but always willing to babysit or stand by if Rose had to rush out on her own. She called out to her to come around
the back and watch out for buckets and heaps of sand strewn around the garden.

  “What are you taking tonight?” Miriam asked, picking her way over to the sand boat.

  “Oh goodness, haven’t thought,” said Rose, pushing her fair hair out of her eyes with sandy hands. “Ouch! Oh blast, have you got a tissue, Miriam,” she said, blinking and shaking her head.

  Miriam produced a neatly folded handkerchief with MB embroidered in one corner and handed it over. “Poor you,” she said. “I suppose you don’t fancy a walk to pick some whatevers, just to show we care.”

  Rose nodded. “Anything to get me away from sand,” she said. “Can you wait a few minutes while I clean up, and then we’ll go up to the woods. Should be something there, if it’s only a half-eaten sandwich left by picnickers.”

  “I need to lock up,” Miriam said. “See you in five minutes?”

  “Yes, okay. We must be back in time for me to pick up the boys from holiday club.”

  Miriam returned to her house, gave a cursory look-around for any signs of a returning Katherine but quickly gave up. She wrote a note to Gus, telling him she assumed he knew where his ex-wife had gone, but in any case, she could no longer put her up as a guest. She collected a basket from her garden shed, locked up and made her way back to meet Rose.

  THE WOODS WERE pleasantly cool and shady, with dappled sunlight spreading over grassy patches between the trees. Miriam and Rose walked along chatting, with eyes to the ground for likely looking plants, and both agreed that even if they found nothing useful, it had been a good idea to have a walk. “There’s always something to do in the house,” Miriam said, brushing aside undergrowth in search of young nettle leaves.