‘Yes, I am,’ she said.
‘Can you spare a little time?’ His voice had a rusty edge.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Good. I hope we can help each other.’
She sat on the worn and slippery banquette facing him and he added: ‘I’m Brother Percy. I would be happy for you to call me Percy.’
ELEVEN
The man took a healthy swallow of wine, propped his elbow on the table and continued to hold the glass in long, almost transparent fingers. ‘I understand you own this place.’
‘I do. How can I help you?’ His age was difficult to guess. He could be fifty or seventy – he had an unworldly air.
‘Please tell me about Dominic, about what happened to him. I spoke to a policeman. At first he was interested. Had all sorts of questions. But I couldn’t tell him anything he wanted to know. I wanted to say what I knew about the brother, and that I’d like to see him. I learned you found Dominic so I came to find you.’
Slowly, Alex slid to the edge of the bench and rested her forearms on the table. She couldn’t feel her hands any more. Cold anticipation made it hard to talk. Dominic.
Her breath shortened and her skin began to prickle. The start of a panic attack? She hadn’t had one in months, not even when she’d come upon the dead man. Panic could describe what she’d felt when someone fooled with the motion sensors at her house, but that was different from the real thing. Alex knew all about that.
‘Dominic was the man who died in the woods up there?’ She nodded toward the hills opposite the pub.
‘I believe so.’ Percy nodded and demolished a sausage while he waited, with apparent patience, for her to say something else.
‘You’re hungry,’ she said, startled by her own comment. ‘I mean … Yes, you are hungry.’ With an awkward little laugh, she rubbed her hands over her eyes, taking deep, calming breaths. ‘His hair was cut like yours. For a moment … I knew you must be something to do with him.’
He smiled and papery wrinkles drove webs of fine lines around his eyes and mouth. Transformed by the kindness of that smile, Brother Percy warmed Alex a little. Her muscles started to ease out of the grip of tension.
‘Who was the policeman you talked to?’
‘A detective,’ Percy said. ‘Lamb, his name is. Nice fellow I imagine, but busy.’
‘Wasn’t interested in what you had to say?’ The idea amazed her. Surreptitiously, she placed the flat of her right hand just above her waistband and felt the next inhalation. She kept it slow.
‘He was interested but since I couldn’t give him the name he was looking for, he took what information I had and said he would have to verify who I say I am before letting me see Brother Dominic.’
Ethereal – that described this person. Almost as if he might disappear if she closed her eyes for too long, although the speed with which he dispatched his meal suggested he was quite human. His hooded cowl stood away from a corded neck. Beneath a threadbare raincoat far too flimsy for the weather, his tunic was a very dark brown and tied high at the waist with a rolled and knotted raw linen cincture.
‘You have a name for the man who died. Dominic. And you’re Percy. I’m sure they can check the rest.’
‘I should explain, although it won’t interest you particularly.’ He smiled again. ‘Once we were called Gyrovagi – monks without a cloister. Wanderers on a quest others didn’t understand or felt threatened by. We were considered undesirable. Charlatans, even. I won’t bore you with more of that. I don’t know Brother Dominic by any other name, not the name he was given as a child – if he even knew it. But he was a man in search of simplicity and truth, not the name he was once given. And I long ago shed my own. It’s irrelevant. I cannot give the police the pieces of paper they want. They would have to accept my word that my path crossed that of Brother Dominic.’
‘You must see him.’ Desperation didn’t make for a clear head. Brother Percy admitted he didn’t have a home. That meant he could disappear.
Sadness dragged the lines of his face downward. ‘I would have liked that. And to spend a few minutes with him. I have something of his by mistake. He would have missed it by now. Not important, I suppose, but I’d have liked to … leave it with him. Some would have called him inestimably sweet – perhaps he was – but I was only caught by his goodness, and I supposed what I felt was a troubled spirit still searching.’
Wanting nothing more than for him to keep talking, Alex sat still and held his gaze. She wanted to ask him if Brother Dominic wore a ring. Not yet, though.
Cathy wiped the table and asked if Brother Percy was ready for more wine. He only smiled at her.
‘Dominic was dissatisfied with himself. I felt that. Once he talked of things he had yet to put right, if he could ever discover how to do that. He missed someone called Lennie but I wasn’t sure who he meant. It isn’t our way to ask questions, simply to listen. We are essentially silent.’ His sudden laugh jolted Alex. ‘He had a dog. It caused him more problems than he already had but he would never have given it up once it came to him. It’s hard enough to feed oneself as we live. I think Dominic sometimes chose not to eat in favor of that little fellow.’
Cathy picked up Percy’s empty plate and glass. ‘Will you have pudding?’ she asked Brother Percy.
‘No, but thank you,’ he said, and took the bill from her.
This man would go away, Alex knew it, and then she might never find out more than the few insights he was giving. She glanced toward the fireplace where Bogie lay curled up on his blanket. ‘You know …’ No, Percy was unlikely to want Bogie but she couldn’t risk it. Silly when she’d only had the little dog since yesterday.
‘It’s all right,’ Percy said, his clear eyes shining with a touch of humor. ‘I saw him by the fire when I came in, but I couldn’t look after him anyway. And I’m glad he’s here. Dominic will be glad.’
Alex shivered. A calmness hovered about Percy and when he spoke of Dominic as if he were somewhere around she thought she felt the other man’s presence, too.
Cathy approached with two glasses of red wine. She put one in front of Alex. ‘The gentleman was drinking your favorite Burgundy,’ she said. ‘I thought it might be nice for you to have some together. These are nasty days and the nights are enough to freeze your bones. It’ll warm you up.’ She set down the other glass near Percy and left.
With a slight frown, Percy regarded the second pour of wine.
He can’t afford it. ‘You didn’t ask for that one,’ she said with a smile. ‘It’s on the house.’
‘I should be going,’ Percy said. ‘But thank you.’
Alex furiously thought of ways to keep him. In the morning she’d see Dan O’Reilly and she’d like to take Percy with her. ‘Stay and chat,’ she said, knowing she sounded forced. ‘Where will you spend the night?’
The Burke sisters had come into the pub, Mary leaning heavily on her cane and forcing a few coughs. Alex waved at them.
‘I’ll know when I get there,’ Percy said and picked up the new glass of wine. ‘I’ll be warm enough,’ he added and smiled.
Laughter followed Harriet and Mary toward their table by the fire. Alex could only imagine what outrageous complaining Mary was tossing out. She was a one-woman put-down artist when it came to the darts team from the Horse and Hounds – or just about any other team that competed with the Black Dog. She’d be full of derisive comments tonight. The laughter grew and, from the gesturing of the woman’s free hand, Alex could tell she was enjoying herself.
Will kept a ‘reserved’ sign on the sisters’ table to avoid any scenes should someone else try to sit there, and the two were soon ensconced amid a chuckling group of neighbors.
‘You like what you do here,’ Percy said. ‘You would have enjoyed Brother Dominic if he ever managed to put his worries to rest. It seemed important for him to get to this place.’
How she wanted to ask about those worries and the tiny bits of information the monk had told her. But if she st
arted asking too many questions it could be a big mistake.
‘I never expected to do anything like own a pub,’ she told him. ‘I came back to the village when my life changed a lot. I worked in London as a graphic artist, but I don’t miss it.’ Not completely true, but the rest was too complicated.
He raised one eyebrow quizzically but didn’t press for more information.
‘Did you read about Dominic in a local paper?’ she asked. ‘What happened, I mean?’
He looked vague. ‘I heard,’ he said and reached into the pocket of the raincoat he wore, pulling out a small leather purse. ‘I knew it had to be him. Someone he knew should say what needs to be said.’
‘Please stay here at the inn tonight,’ she said. ‘We have plenty of room and that way you’ll have a comfortable bed to sleep in and a healthy breakfast before you set off again.’ All she could visualize was the elderly man trudging along, who knew where, in the darkness.
Then there was the spectre of a malevolent presence lurking out there.
‘That’s not my way,’ he said. ‘But I do thank you for your kindness.’ He opened the purse and began to assemble coins on the table.
She had to keep him here. ‘Reverend!’ She called to the vicar, who immediately saw her signalling him and came toward them. ‘This is someone I want you to meet. Brother Percy, this is Reverend Restrick, the vicar of St Aldwyn’s here in Folly-on-Weir.’ Sending a distress signal without Percy noticing stretched Alex’s inventive abilities. ‘I’m trying to get Brother Percy to stay the night in the village. Tell him it’s too cold and getting too late to go on.’
The vicar waited for the other man to shift along the bench and sat beside him. He shot Alex an understanding glance.
She excused herself and fetched the vicar’s drink from the bar. In the short time it took for her to get back the two men had fallen into easy conversation and she wished she could just creep away and leave them to talk.
‘Drink your wine,’ the vicar told her. ‘It’s good to see you relax.’
If only he knew how she really felt.
‘Brother Percy knew the dead man,’ she blurted out.
Before she could apologize for her clumsiness, the vicar said, ‘Yes, so he’s said. Brother Percy … perhaps we shouldn’t talk too much more about it all until he’s had time to rest and think. He isn’t a man accustomed to being with so many other people.’
Percy raised a hand in protest. ‘I don’t expect my peculiarities to be accommodated, Reverend, but thank you for your consideration. It doesn’t seem I can be of any more help anyway and the longer I stay – comfortable as I am here – the later it gets.’ He smiled a little and emptied the second glass of wine. ‘Not that the night has ever held any fear for me.’
‘I’m not as comfortable with my own company as you, Percy,’ the vicar said. He had already drained his whiskey. ‘Charlotte, my wife, is visiting her sister so I’m fending for myself. It would be a pleasure to have you use the spare room at the vicarage. It’s always made up. Then I’d have a companion for breakfast in the morning before you go on your way – if you’d like that. I make good coffee, I’m told, and fry an edible egg. I’ve some Cumberland sausages, too. Best there are.’
Brother Percy fiddled with the coins on the table.
‘I don’t want you to feel pressured, of course,’ Reverend Restrick said.
‘Thank you, Reverend, thank you. Yes, I’ll be grateful to stay with you, but I’ll be away before breakfast.’ He started to move and the vicar immediately got to his feet to let the monk out from behind the table.
‘We’ll see,’ Reverend Restrick said, smiling at Alex as the other man walked ahead of them.
TWELVE
Whatever Tony felt, it wasn’t good. There had been something off in his father’s voice. Come to that, it was off for him to call late in the evening at all. If there had been something worth saying, something that couldn’t wait for a more reasonable hour, they could have spoken at the Black Dog, or so he’d have thought. This summons, and that’s what it had sounded like, pressed all of Tony’s warning buttons.
Katie ran ahead along the pathway toward the doctor’s home and surgery. Multiple rose arches punctuated the way where, if it were light enough, the dormant vines would show, thick and brown. At 39 Bishop’s Way – the house wasn’t named – a fifteen-foot-high stone wall with impressive ball-topped gateposts edged the narrow verge that butted the roadway. A brass plate with the number and Dr Harrison’s surgery information was set into one gatepost. The property stretched back a deceptively long way and James Harrison’s all but lifelong gardening hobby had produced a lush, mature half acre that became a destination view in summer when great splashes of color vied for attention among mature trees, and the lawn behind the house rolled, emerald, down to a bubbly feeder stream.
Curtains were drawn over the study window but the conservatory lights glowed and Tony ran to catch up with Katie before she could scratch the door.
He pushed between counters crowded with pots where the air smelled of mulch and loamy soil.
Another half an hour and he would have left for home. If his paperwork weren’t in such need of a major attack, he would already be on his way. His assistant in the office and surgery was on holiday.
‘Dad,’ he called, crossing the old stone tiled back hall and putting his head around his father’s study door. ‘You called – I came.’
Looking at him over the top of his half glasses, his dad didn’t return Tony’s smile. A book lay open on his knees but it had slid sideways, as if unread.
‘Good, good. Get us a drink, would you? I’ll have a splash of soda in mine.’
The Scotch wasn’t decanted. An almost full bottle of Macallan and a soda siphon stood on a shelf among a cluster of mismatched crystal glasses. James Harrison liked good crystal and picked up any piece he fancied, regardless of size or pedigree.
‘Damn frigid out there,’ he said, holding his hands to the wood fire that curled up the soot blackened breast of a fireplace surrounded by royal blue and dark green tiles. ‘Cold enough to knock the bottom off a brass monkey,’ he added in what was about as lusty as his language ever got and clearly an attempt to take the edge off an already strained atmosphere.
Tony poured the drinks. He didn’t believe in diluting good scotch with anything and took his own neat. ‘This’ll warm me up for the drive home,’ he said. ‘Probably shouldn’t be too much longer – got an early call in the morning.’
‘Mm.’
His dad’s mind was elsewhere, apparently buried in whatever topic had also distracted him from the book now sliding, unheeded, toward the floor.
Although the room was small, when Tony’s mother had been alive she had sat in the chair he used now to read or sew while she kept her husband company in the evenings. He could imagine the two of them there now and, although he was grateful for the closeness they had shared, thinking about how his father had missed his wife saddened Tony. At least his dad got out more these days.
‘Never thought I’d see the day when this village got turned into a horror story,’ his dad said. ‘A lot of people are frightened. You can feel it but there’s only so much you can say when you try to soften things a bit.’
‘I know. And I can’t get my head around the idea of it being a religious man who’s been victimized. You can’t get away from that being true, can you?’
‘No, son.’ The doctor sank more deeply into his cracked, green leather chair and didn’t react when the book hit the carpet.
The room still looked as it had when Tony’s mother had been alive. The greens and blues in the old fireplace tiles were repeated in draperies, carpets and cushions. In summer, with the windows open, it felt as if the inside and outside were one.
He waited but his father didn’t say anything more.
‘You said it was important for me to come by tonight, Dad.’
The doctor took a thoughtful swallow from his glass. ‘I was sorry you and Penny di
dn’t have a smooth path with your marriage but not completely surprised. You were very young when you met and I think she expected to carry on in a sort of fairyland where she was the princess forever.’
Penny had not been the topic Tony expected.
‘I don’t blame Penny for anything,’ he said, although the words didn’t ring completely true even in his ears.
‘We’ll have to put you up for sainthood then. But I need to organize what’s on my mind. You like Alex Bailey-Jones, don’t you?’
So that was it. ‘We’ve known each other since we were kids and it’s easy for us to be together.’
His father still looked expectant.
‘In the past couple of days we’ve had reasons to talk a lot, but we don’t know a whole lot about one another’s lives between leaving Folly and coming back again – permanently, I mean. But, OK, yes, I like Alex. She’s kind and smart and she isn’t a quitter.’
‘She’s also a pretty woman who knows how to stand on her own feet,’ his father said. ‘And I think she’s been through a lot, although she keeps it to herself.’
‘Has Lily ever talked about what happened with Michael?’ Tony asked without thinking. His dad wasn’t the kind to discuss other people’s confidences.
‘Only that there’s been real sadness and Alex likes to keep her own counsel. Does she know about you and Penny?’
Tony breathed deeply through his nose. ‘She knew Penny a long time ago – only through me, of course. I was already at university. You remember how I used to bring Penny home. That’s how Alex met her.’
‘Don’t beat around the bushes with me, son.’
‘No, then. She hasn’t asked about Penny or anything else in my past and there’s been no reason to bring it up.’
His dad gave a short, humorless laugh and bent to give Katie an absent-minded scratch between the ears. The dog liked to lie with her head on his checked woolen carpet slippers.
‘Why don’t you just spit out what’s really on your mind?’ Tony said. He drained his glass and got up for a refill.
Folly Page 8
