by Leo McNeir
Anne was uncertain about what they should do, but Marnie was in no doubt and in no mood for holding back. With a cry of “Hey, you!” she charged forward brandishing the steel torch, leaving Anne to try to keep up. The watcher, taken completely by surprise, glanced quickly in the direction of his assailants, turned and ran. He managed one step before colliding with a tree, bouncing backwards and falling to the ground with a bump. Before he could gather his wits, Marnie was standing over him, pulling back the hood.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Marnie said in as hard a tone as she could. She looked down at the intruder. He was little more than Anne’s age. He raised a hand to his forehead where a cut above his eye was starting to bleed.
“Sorry, I … I … can I get up, please?” His voice was trembling, and Marnie’s fierceness evaporated. She reached out a hand to help him to his feet.
“Now don’t you try and run off. You’ve got some explaining to do, and it had better be good.”
“I don’t feel like running anywhere.” A trickle of blood ran out below his hand and down his cheek.
“The first aid kit’s in the cupboard in the office,” said Anne.
*
Marnie dabbed the wound with cotton wool soaked in TCP. The intruder winced and jerked his head back. Marnie dabbed again. “It isn’t much of a cut. No need for stitching.”
“I’ll put the sewing machine away then,” Anne said, pulling a surgical wipe from a packet. Marnie took it and mopped the boy’s cheek. He glanced towards Anne.
“Have we got a plaster to cover this?” Marnie asked.
Anne inspected the medical kit and produced a plaster. The boy looked at it. “That’s not very big,” he said softly.
“Don’t worry,” said Marnie. “Size doesn’t matter.” The boys cheeks turned pink. Marnie got up, went to the sink and washed her hands while Anne put the first aid box away. They came back to sit on Marnie’s desk, looming over the intruder like inquisitors. “So, what’s the story? Why were you spying on us? You’d better start with your name.”
He hesitated. “Ronny.”
“Is that your real name?” He nodded. “Okay. Ronny what?”
“Ronny Cope.”
“Where do you come from?”
“I live in the village, the other side of the church. Martyrs Close.” Marnie and Anne knew it, a small exclusive development of executive homes.
“Go on.” He looked awkward. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“And why were you watching us?”
“I was just …” His voice faded. “I come down here sometimes to go for a walk.”
“The truth,” said Marnie. “You weren’t walking, you were hiding in the bushes. I’d call that ‘skulking’. The police might call it prowling or even stalking.”
“The police?” Panic showed in his face. Marnie was already getting the picture.
“Do you smoke?”
“Sometimes. It’s not illegal. I’m over sixteen.”
Marnie sighed. “Do you feel like a cup of tea?” Anne got up and crossed to the kitchen area. To her back Marnie called out. “Anne, I think you’ve got an admirer.” At the sink, Anne missed the spout of the kettle that she was filling from the tap and sprayed herself and her surroundings with water.
*
Friday 6 January – late morning
Anne looked up from checking the invoices file. “I keep worrying about Dolly. What can have happened to her? I don’t believe she’s run away.”
Marnie put her pen down on the drawing board. “No, definitely not. Though I could accept that, if I knew she had found a better home and was all right.”
“She couldn’t find a better home than here. Shall I make coffee?”
“Good idea. But without creating the interesting office water feature this time, if possible.”
“That was your fault,” Anne protested, filling the kettle with inordinate care.
“I did feel badly about the cut on his head, once I knew he wasn’t spying on us.”
“I wonder what he told his parents about it.”
“Probably that he was wounded in the pursuit of true love, I expect,” Marnie said. Anne stuck out her tongue. “Seriously, though, it is quite flattering. Had you seen him before?”
Anne shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, he seems a pleasant enough boy, and it’s nice to have an admirer.”
“Talking of which,” Anne said, “What time are you collecting Ralph from the airport tomorrow? I haven’t got a time in the diary.”
“About eleven in the morning, I think. What about you? Have you any plans? Do you want me to drop you in on your folks for the weekend?”
Anne concentrated on making the pot of coffee. “I hadn’t thought about it, really. Are you going on to Murton?”
“Actually, we’ve had to change plans from what we originally thought. Ralph needs to sort out his college work and his jetlag, and I have to do something in London, so I’m just going down to meet him, have lunch, or whatever meal it is for Ralph, and put him on the express coach to Oxford.”
Behind her there was a knock on the door. This was strange, and Marnie immediately became wary. She had heard no footsteps outside. “Come in.” Perhaps she had imagined it. In a louder voice, she repeated: “Come in.”
The door swung slowly open, and into the office walked a bedraggled, but still sturdy black cat. Two voices called out in unison: “Dolly!”
From behind the door appeared Ronny Cope, proud and pleased to think that he had found a way of making two women happy at the same time. Beaming broadly, he looked up from the cat, who was now sitting washing herself in the middle of the floor, to find himself confronted by two people with tears streaming down their faces.
*
That night, the best brushed and fed cat in Britain lay contentedly purring in her basket in the saloon on Sally Ann. In the sleeping cabin, Marnie put out the light and began drifting off to sleep. Her last thoughts, for the first time since the start of the new year, were pleasant. Dolly had returned, and the thought made Marnie smile to herself in the darkness.
15
Saturday 7 January – late morning
“You look much better that I thought you would.”
“What did you expect?” Ralph was still holding her firmly in his arms in the arrivals area at London Heathrow airport.
“Red-eyed and yawning, I suppose. All jetlag and stubble.”
“I’m glad you have such high expectations of me, Marnie. I think I’m running on adrenalin at the moment, seeing you again. It seems ages.”
“Come on. Let’s go and feed you before you nod off.” They kissed again and headed for a restaurant. Marnie swung Ralph’s smaller bag over her shoulder while he guided a larger suitcase on wheels through the crowd.
“Anne sends greetings. She’s looking forward to seeing you.”
“She’s running the office this morning? And the rest of the country as well?” They stepped onto an escalator.
“Actually, she’s entertaining a visitor for lunch. Anne has an admirer.”
“A boyfriend!”
“Not quite. At least not so far. They only met yesterday.”
“How romantic,” Ralph said.
“Not exactly. We attacked him with blunt instruments, and he made the confession while we were trying to stop his wounds bleeding.”
“Really. I’m glad your usual reticent charm hasn’t completely faded in my absence. Talking of wounds …”
“Oh, I’m much better. Good as new.”
“You certainly look it. Better than ever, I’d say.”
“I can’t be sure if you really mean that or if you’re just scared of my reticent charm. Look, there’s a place over there. Are you hungry?”
*
Unable to decide what meal this was for his body-clock, Ralph opted for scrambled eggs and smoked salmon with toast and coffee. Marnie, who had not eaten that morning ch
ose the same. As they ate, Marnie brought Ralph up-to-date. He frowned throughout her narrative, only brightening up when she explained about Dolly and Ronny Cope.
“So he found her in a shed. Presumably not one of yours.”
“No. Right up in the village by the old peoples’ bungalows. He just went round calling her name and she responded. We’ll never know how she came to be locked in there. It’s the one bright interlude we’ve had since you left.”
“And it doesn’t seem as if any real progress has been made with the Edmonds investigation,” Ralph said.
Marnie sighed. “I don’t know. The police never tell you anything. Or if they do, you can’t tell if they mean it or if they’re trying to trip you up.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t been a little more forthcoming with Malcolm Grant. He’s one of the Law and Order brigade.”
“He said they have him down as a suspect. Well, perhaps things will change now they’ve got the note from Tim Edmonds.”
“Mm. It doesn’t prove much, Marnie. Though I suppose it does corroborate his story, if the note is genuine, which I expect it is. It’d be too easy to detect a forgery. I wonder how far the police have got with solving it all.”
“No idea,” Marnie said. “I think about it all the time.”
“That’s only natural.”
“You know when you see a detective film on television – Morse or Dalgliesh or Poirot – the story seems to follow a recognisable pattern, one incident leads on to the next, and at the end it all somehow falls into place.”
“That’s how they write them, I suppose.”
“Yes. And you know what’s going on because you get clues and evidence. Well, with this business, just like the murder in the village last year, I have no idea what’s happening. Every now and then the police turn up, I get a glimpse of what they’re doing and then I get dropped.”
“Would you expect them to take you into their confidence?”
“No. In fact, I’d rather have nothing to do with them at all. But of course I can’t choose that because of finding the body and being part of their evidence. But what gets me is that I could possibly be of more help to them if I knew what they were thinking. I’m not even on the outside looking in. There’s nowhere for me to look.”
“And Grant’s no wiser? I’d have thought he would get some impression of what’s going on. He’s certainly got connections.”
Marnie sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know what to think, Ralph. I’m not even sure if he really trusts me. The whole thing’s a confusing mess.”
*
“Do you like trout?”
“Sure. I eat anything.”
“Good. I should’ve asked you first, really.” Anne opened the fridge and took out a bottle of Orvieto. “Do you drink wine?”
“Yeah. Well, I like it, but I don’t drink it often. Do you?”
“Not every day, but quite often. Just a glass, usually a spritzer if it’s white.”
Ronny looked puzzled. “A what?”
“Spritzer. White wine mixed with sparkling water. It’s nice. Wanna try one?”
“Great.” Ronny finished laying the table in the saloon on Sally Ann. “What shall I do now?”
“You can uncork the bottle if you like. Lunch’ll be ready in five minutes.” Anne busied herself scooping the pips out of a melon. Behind her, she heard the pop of the cork being extracted. Ronny laughed softly. She turned to see him smiling, reading the label on the bottle. “What’s so amusing?”
“Dunno, everything, really. Being on the boat like this, having a meal here. You … everything.”
“You find this amusing?” She inspected the pan of new potatoes on the hob.
“No. It’s just so different. No-one’s ever made me lunch before , apart from my mum. It’s like eating out on holiday. Do you do this kind of thing a lot?”
Anne bent to check the flame under the pan as she turned down the gas. “We have friends to eat with us, yes.”
Ronny smiled and shook his head. “You’re just like your friend, you know, Marnie. You’re just like her.”
“Am I? I suppose that’s a compliment.” She put two bowls on the table, each containing half a melon, and handed Ronny a blue gingham napkin as she sat down. “It was meant as a compliment, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, yes. I suppose so.”
Anne said. “You don’t seem very sure.”
“Well, it’s just, you’re not like other girls I know.”
“In what way? You’ve noticed I’ve got two heads, is that it? Most people spot that straight away.”
Ronny laughed. “Apart from that. You’re just, I don’t know, you’re like Marnie. You’re sort of … trendy.”
“Trendy? Nonsense!” She shook out her napkin and put it on her lap. “Well, bon appétit!”
*
“You keep trying to change the subject.” Marnie smiled at Ralph.
“What do you mean?”
“Every time I mention your visit to Washington, you steer me away.”
“I don’t mean to. It’s just that I’m more concerned about you.”
Marnie raised a biro towards her mouth like a long cigarette holder and put on a sultry expression with hooded eyelids. Her accent when she spoke was middle European with a hint of Marlene Dietrich. “Presidents … I can take zem or leave zem. Zey’re all ze same to me.”
Ralph laughed. “Idiot!”
Marlene Dietrich said, “Tell me about your secret talks wiz Clinton. Spill ze beans.”
“I’m trying to be serious about a serious matter, that’s all.” He reached across the table and took her hand.
Marnie said, “I know, but I’m sick of this thing hanging over me the whole time. I want it all sorted out. I want to get back to a normal life, while I can still remember what normality is like. I’m not kidding, Ralph, I’ve been going round like a fugitive, skulking in the shadows, covering my tracks. I’m not James Bond. I’m just an interior designer trying to earn a living.”
“And the world won’t let you.”
“No, it won’t. All I did was find a body in a canal. It could’ve happened to anyone.”
“But it happened to you, Marnie.”
“Lucky me.”
*
Anne carefully forked the remains of pink flesh from the bones of the trout and tipped them onto a saucer while the kettle boiled. “Dolly will love this.” On cue, and recognising the action in the galley, Dolly stretched languidly and walked over towards her, rubbing her flank against Anne’s jeans, purring. Ronny had to step over her to put the dishes in the bowl in the sink.
“She’s a nice cat. Very intelligent. She kept answering when I was calling her name by the sheds until I located her.”
“She’s lovely. We think the world of you, don’t we, Dolly?” Anne bent down and put the saucer by the cooker. The purring continued while Dolly buried her nose in the fish. “It’s getting sunny outside. Shall we have coffee on the deck? We can put jackets on.”
“Anne, can I ask you something?” Ronny’s voice was tentative.
Anne turned to face him. Her voice was serious. “What?”
“You and Marnie. What’s it really like being mixed up in this … in this murder?”
“Depends what you mean by mixed up.”
“Well, in the village some people are saying it’s odd how Marnie …”
“Go on.”
“Like last year she was involved in the vicar’s murder, you know.”
“We both were. It was horrible. Toni was our friend.”
“And now …”
“Ronny, what are you trying to say? You’re not making much sense.”
“Some people think as how it’s an odd coincidence that Marnie found that body.”
“It was. What else could it have been?”
“Oh, I know. But it is strange, isn’t it?”
“Of course it’s strange. But it’s not as if Marnie’s taken this kind of thing up as a hobby. What d
o you think we are, a pair of witches?”
“Christ, no. I mean, sorry, no, nothing like that. ’Course not.”
“We’re no different from you or any other people, Ronny. And don’t forget, you’re the one who found our cat, our black cat.”
“Bloody hell, Anne. Don’t make it sound creepy. It was pure luck. I just went out looking and found her, that’s all. I was trying to find her and I did.”
“And you could say that body found Marnie. She wasn’t looking for anything, just minding her own business.”
*
Ralph came back to the table with their second cup of coffee. Marnie was writing a list of things she had to do that day.
“So you were impressed by the President?”
“He’s certainly running a strong economy. America’s never been so prosperous.”
“And it’s not just a boom?”
“Not in the usual sense of a boom-and-bust cycle, no. If he can keep it on course, he’ll go down as one of the most successful presidents of all time.”
“And what’s he like as a person?”
Ralph looked thoughtful. “Mm, impressive, in a very American way. His style’s quite informal. You know that folksy, homespun way they have, first names and all that. But he’s certainly sharp, shrewd even. Of course, I didn’t speak with him for long, about half an hour in all, but I gained a fair idea of how he works.”
“So America is in good hands.” Ralph did not reply. “Isn’t it? Ralph? What’s the matter? That’s what I thought you were saying.”
“Well, it’s just that there are rumours.”
“What kind of rumours?”
“About his private life. I heard one or two things.”
“I can’t imagine you listening to gossip.”
“Oh, this wasn’t idle tittle tattle.”
“Even so.”
“Marnie, when things happen around the most powerful man in the world, heading the world’s biggest economy, economists like me have to take notice. It could have an impact on everything.”
“But if they’re just rumours …”
“We shall see. But the world of politics is never what it seems. There’s always something going on beneath the surface.”
“Tell me about it,” Marnie said.
