by Sarah Ward
‘I thought you wanted me to find her so I went out to Cold Eaton.’
‘I don’t want to hear about there.’ It was as loud as Mina had heard her mother in the last few weeks.
‘I thought Valerie might still be living in the village, that’s all. I didn’t mean to upset you. It was you who mentioned Cold Eaton.’
There was silence.
‘You don’t want me to find her then?’
‘She died.’ Hilary was drifting off again. Mina lightly held her wrist. ‘Mum, listen, you told that girl Catherine about a cutting. What did you mean?’
But Hilary was asleep. Mina kissed her mother on her cheek and left the room. There was a different nurse at the station.
‘She’s better today.’
‘That’s good. She’s still very ill but we’ve got her temperature down a bit.’
‘She doesn’t remember what we spoke about yesterday. Is that normal?’
‘Completely. She’ll have been in and out of consciousness yesterday. It can be very confusing when you feel a bit better.’
Mina thought of Hilary and Catherine’s anxious face. And that most horrible of words. Cutting.
‘I don’t want anyone else seeing her apart from me. No visitors. Okay?’
13
Catherine – Three Weeks Earlier
She turned up on the doorstep at midday as promised. She’d had to bunk off the last morning lesson at school, inventing a visit to the doctor and composing a note in her mum’s writing. She’d then walked down to the bus stop three streets away from the classroom so no one would notice that she was heading in the direction away from the cluster of Bampton’s doctors’ surgeries. The person she’d come to see was waiting near the door and it swung open before she’d even had time to lift her hand up to knock.
‘It’s you. Come in.’
Catherine was ushered into a room where the sunlight revealed particles of dust hanging suspended in the air. She was shown to a chair and left alone, allowing her to take a puff of Ventolin to ease the tightness in her chest. The woman returned with a glass of Coke still fizzing in the glass. Except it wasn’t Coke but bitter tasting. Catherine made a face, and placed the glass back on the table with a bang.
‘It’s dandelion and burdock. Have you never had it before?’
‘No. It’s awful.’
‘It’s the taste of the country. It’s made from plants that you see around you. Go on. Try another sip.’
Catherine tried again. It was no better but she wanted to please this woman who had picked up her own glass and taken a seat opposite her.
‘Does your mum know you’re here?’
Catherine shook her head. ‘I didn’t tell anyone, like you asked.’
‘It’s for the best. Not everyone likes their secrets on show. We can talk more freely if I know it’s just between you and me.’
‘Thank you for helping me.’
‘You want to know about your family?’
‘Mum won’t tell me anything and, anyways, it’s not her side I want to know about.’
‘You don’t remember your dad?’
Catherine scratched her arms in embarrassment. ‘I remember him a little bit. I remember him laughing and, later, lying in bed for a long time. But it’s not only him I’m interested in. It’s about my grandmother too. I want to know about her.’
She looked up and was surprised to see an expression of satisfaction on the woman’s face. ‘Your grandmother? Well, there’s a story that you might be sorry to hear. Are you sure you’re ready for it?’
14
Connie looked at her watch. Four thirty. Should she make the offer? It was only on a Friday that she allowed herself a drink before seven. Her mother’s struggle with alcoholism that had led to her early death had left its mark on Connie. She liked a drink, enjoyed socialising with colleagues, but kept an eye on her intake. Friday was the exception when she’d go out to the pub straight from work. Today, however, a new member of the team had arrived, which should be marked in some way.
‘Fancy a glass of wine?’
Dahl looked up. ‘I’d love one but I can’t.’
‘Okay. Another time maybe.’ Connie, embarrassed, sank into her chair.
‘Is it a regular thing? Drinks after work, I mean.’
‘Not really. Just when we fancy it. I thought, given it’s your first day and Sadler is away, that we could do something. Matthews is busy sucking up … oh forget I said that bit. And as for her …’
Connie nodded over to Mayfield, who was once again massaging her enormous bump.
Dahl picked up a file. ‘I’m about to finish off things here. Listen, I’ve been in touch with the GP and social services. None of them visited Nell at the time her neighbour mentioned. So whoever her neighbour heard, it wasn’t from her regular visitors.’
‘Family?’
‘She doesn’t have any, remember.’
‘Maybe it was someone connected to the book she was writing.’
‘The subject of which we don’t know.’
Connie groaned. ‘I wish Sadler was here. Books are more his thing. He might have an idea who else we could contact.’
Dahl closed the file and put it to one side. ‘I’ve called everyone I can think of. I guess it’s the best we can do. We can let Matthews know at the team meeting tomorrow.’
‘I’m desperate for a drink.’ Mayfield sighed. ‘With the last two kids, I went off alcohol completely. Even the thought of it made me sick. This one, I’m craving a glass of red so badly, I think I might take a bottle into the delivery room so I can have a slug straight afterwards.’
‘I thought a glass was okay when you were pregnant.’ Dahl began to pack his things away.
‘The advice changes all the time and suppose something went wrong? I’m thirty-nine. No point taking any chances. Anyway, this one will be my last.’
‘You said that last time.’ Connie was chuckling as she too got ready to leave.
‘Yeah, thanks a lot. If birth control was as simple as saying “not tonight thanks”, life would be much simpler.’
Matthews opened the door to see what the laughter was about. ‘All okay? You’re not going, are you, Connie? You’re on shift until six.’
‘I wasn’t going to leave, I was tidying up.’
Matthews looked at her watch. ‘It won’t take you an hour and a quarter.’
Furious, Connie sat down and opened up a window on her computer screen. Looking embarrassed, Dahl put on his coat. ‘I do need to go. I’m sorry.’
Connie shrugged, still looking at the screen.
‘Listen, do you think you’ll still fancy a drink after nine?’
Connie looked up. ‘What, tonight?’
‘Yes, I mean, if it’s too late just say but I’m up for a drink later on.’
Connie thought about the takeaway she’d planned. She could have it first and go out later. ‘All right. Sounds like a plan. Where do you want to meet?’
‘Do you know The Trip to Jerusalem?’
‘There?’
‘Why, don’t you like it?’
‘It’s just that it’s off the beaten track.’ A suspicion entered Connie’s mind. ‘We’re not hiding from someone, are we? You don’t have a wife you’re trying to keep secret?’
Dahl smiled. Unoffended. ‘No wife. I’m busy until nine, that’s all. Fancy meeting up or not?’
‘You’re on. I’ll get there at five past if you don’t mind. I don’t fancy sitting on my own in that place.’
In silence, Connie and Mayfield watched him walk out.
‘He’s quite fanciable.’ Mayfield opened a drawer and started to put her stuff away. ‘A bit geekish if you like them like that. I think it must be the glasses. But still, fanciable.’
‘I’m staying away from relationships in the workplace. Even with the single ones. I simply wanted to offer him a welcome drink. Why do you think he had to rush away?’
Mayfield looked at her watch and sighed. ‘The longe
st hour of the day. I don’t know. Maybe he has something on. He wasn’t being particularly mysterious. He just didn’t want to tell you what he was up to.’
‘Funny, though. Chuck me that file on Dahl’s desk.’
Connie reached over and took the buff coloured folder from Mayfield’s hand. It was thin, consisting of the death report and a couple of witness statements. She looked at the record of people Dahl had rung. A substantial list mainly of authorities dealing with the elderly plus the woman’s GP surgery. He’d taken a highlighter pen and run it over the name of the woman whose funeral notice had so interested Nell. Ingrid Neale.
She wondered why Dahl had highlighted it and what the hell he was doing buggering off at five o’clock anyway.
*
The thin tower of Bampton church came into view as Sadler picked up his pace. The rumbling of his stomach reminded him that he’d forgotten to pack the sandwiches he’d carefully made that morning and which were still sitting on top of his kitchen counter. He’d left Bampton shrouded in mist but the air in the hills was clear and he hadn’t wanted to slow his pace by stopping at an indifferent pub. Now, after a day of walking, he decided to reward himself with dinner at the Wilton hotel. The alternative was a pub meal or perhaps the warm sandwiches still in his kitchen. Neither appealed and, as the outline of the grey stone building loomed up at him in the dark, he could feel the rumblings in his stomach increase.
Perhaps his hunger was responsible for the feeling that had followed him around all day. The worry that something undefined was wrong. He’d mulled over Max’s comments about Nell Colley and was still undecided what to do next. He didn’t want to interrupt his holiday but, if there was an issue, surely it couldn’t wait until the following week. He got out his mobile and called Connie’s desk number. She answered it immediately. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be away?’
‘I am away. Well, sort of.’
‘What do you mean sort of?’
‘Oh, nothing. What’s happening there?’
‘Missing us, boss?’ Her voice turned smug.
‘Something like that.’
‘Aren’t you going to ask me about Matthews?’
‘I’m sure she’s doing a great job.’
‘She is indeed.’ Connie’s voice spoke volumes.
‘There you are then. So, what’s happening?’
‘We’re investigating burglaries and a possible unexplained death. Nothing specific to worry about but …’
‘Unexplained death?’ Sadler could feel his heart thudding but kept his voice light. ‘What’s that about?’
‘A possible victim who goes by the name of Nell Colley.’
Sadler closed his eyes. Everything comes full circle, he thought.
‘I’m looking at it with the new guy, Dahl. We’re going over it with a fine-tooth comb. Nothing tangible at the moment but we’re checking out some things that don’t really tally.’
Sadler debated whether to mention the conversation with Max. Finally, he said, ‘Will you call me before signing everything off? Nell’s name came up in conversation with a neighbour of mine.’
‘Really?’ Connie sounded curious.
‘She was writing a book and was worried about libelling herself.’
‘Nell’s neighbour mentioned something about a memoir but we haven’t found any evidence of her having started it. Funny that you mention it too. You think the subject matter might have been libellous?’
‘Nell was concerned about it but no one knows what she was writing about.’
‘I wonder. I’ll ask Matthews tomorrow if we can do some more digging.’
‘Will you keep me informed of progress?’
‘Of course.’
After the call disconnected, Sadler switched off his mobile and put it in his pocket, the sense of uneasiness still knotting his stomach.
*
‘You will double-lock the door when I go out, won’t you?’
‘I always do. Why? Are you going out after dinner?’ Alice Dahl’s voice was calm, careful not to sound too curious.
‘I’m nipping up to the pub. The Trip to Jerusalem. It’s not far and it’s got good mobile coverage. I checked last night when I walked past. If there’s a problem, call me.’ Dahl carried on peeling the spuds for the roast potatoes.
‘I’ll be fine, as I told you, and I’ll lock the door after you.’
‘It’s not just tonight, though. I’m talking generally about locking the door when I’m not here. You can deadbolt it from the inside. I can override it with my keys but it’s hard to break into.’
‘Why the concern? I may be crippled with arthritis but I haven’t lost the use of my brain. I know how to lock the door.’
‘Sorry. I know.’ Dahl dropped the potatoes into the hot goose fat on the tray. They hissed for a moment and then settled, swimming around in the old copper pan his mother had been given as a wedding present. He put the dish into the oven and reached over and started peeling the carrots.
‘It’s not going to hold you back, is it? Coming here. You were doing so well in Glossop.’
‘We’ve been through this before, Mum. I asked for the transfer to a CID with a better record of working patterns.’ And a better reputation for decent bosses, he thought. ‘Bampton approved the transfer. If they didn’t want me they wouldn’t have said yes. They’re not a charity.’
‘And they’re fine with you leaving at five some nights?’
‘It’s flexible working. As long as I put in my hours, I can leave early. Why are you still worried, Mum?’
Alice used her walking sticks to move nearer the stove and Dahl pulled up a stool so his mother could rest on it.
‘I never thought it would end up like this. I thought you’d get married. Have kids. I’d carry on working into my sixties. And look where we are. I’m living off my savings and you’re here looking after me.’
‘We have help.’
‘Yes, but you still have to leave work early some days. Does anyone know why?’
Dahl kept his back to her so she couldn’t see his face colour slightly. ‘I haven’t mentioned it to my colleagues.’ His thoughts turned to Connie who was clearly one of life’s nosy parkers, although in their job this was a strength not a weakness. ‘I’m sure they’ll get to know in due course.’
‘Don’t be ashamed of it. I couldn’t bear that.’
‘Mum.’ Dahl turned to her and hugged her close to him. ‘I’m not your carer. I just have to help out sometimes. It’ll be fine. I promise you, it won’t impact on my job.’
‘What about when a major investigation comes up? Then what? I remember the hours you put in during that murder case in Hadfield. What if that happens here?’
‘We’ll manage. The neighbours are good, aren’t they? You have friends too. We couldn’t rely on them on a regular basis any longer. It was too much to ask. For short term help it will be fine.’
‘I could pay someone to come in for extra hours if that would help.’
‘Maybe.’ Dahl was noncommittal. They were getting no state help as it was. If a major investigation came up, he was damned if his mother would be spending even more of her hard-earned cash.
‘What are your colleagues like?’
‘They seem nice.’
‘Male or female?’
Dahl laughed. ‘Mum. I’d never go out with a copper. It’s too incestuous.’
‘You’re going out tonight, though.’
‘You don’t miss much, do you? It’s a drink with a fellow DC. I have a feeling I need her on my side if I’m going to settle into Bampton. She invited me out for a drink so I’m going.’
‘Is she nice?’
Dahl thought of Connie, who despite her scepticism of the wisdom of investigating an unsuspicious case had nevertheless diligently done so.
‘She is nice.’ He laughed. ‘Actually, she’s really nice.’ He saw his mother’s face. ‘As a friend. I want her to tell me more about DI Sadler. He’s going to be my boss and I want to make a
good impression.’
‘There’s no need to worry about that. You’ll impress them all.’
Dahl gave his mother a final hug. ‘You will be careful, won’t you? Lock the door when I’m gone and don’t leave any windows open.’
‘Of course. Why the sudden concern?’
Dahl turned back to the peeling. ‘No reason.’
15
Mina gently lowered herself into the canoe and pushed off from the bank. None of her neighbours were up, although the light had broken through the clouds half an hour earlier. A huddle of ducks were sheltering under the edge of the towpath, next to a swan with its head tucked under its wing. Used to her morning exercise, they didn’t stir as she glided past towards Higgs Lock.
As she made her way westwards away from Bampton, the water turned dark and brackish. She stayed in the middle of the canal. One morning, a group of hooded boys, the air around them reeking of cannabis, had thrown stones at her as she’d passed a derelict warehouse, shaking her composure. The police had been helpful and, now, occasionally she would see some PCSOs walking this deserted stretch on the lookout for anti-social behaviour.
It was a hazy autumnal morning and Mina used the exercise to clear her mind of the ever constant worry about her mother’s illness and the more immediate problem of Hilary’s agitation over her childhood friend, Valerie. Had it been the voice of a woman in her delirium? In Mina’s dreams, faces sometimes reappeared from the past, but her mother had been frightened. Scared after seeing a woman she had been certain was dead. What had she said? ‘Valerie’s dead. Grumps told me.’ So Hilary had been told of Valerie’s death. What was the comment about killing Valerie then? You can’t kill someone and not know about it.
Mina reached a tunnel, thankfully one that she was allowed to paddle through according to the canal rules. She had spotted some other canoeists turn around when they reached the entrance, inhibited from creeping into the unknown, but this was the part she most enjoyed. Entering a cocoon and living in the moment. No future and no past. Inside the tunnel, the outside world shrank to a murmur with only the sound of her boat lapping through dimly lit darkness. Although it only took a few minutes to pass through, during that time Mina was aware of a peace she hadn’t felt since her mother’s revelations. She stopped the canoe at the side of the tunnel for a moment and waited in the darkness, closing her eyes so that the only sensation was the damp on her face and the sound of the slap of water against the brickwork.
