The Summerfield Bride

by C. G Oster

  “Good. I have started my new position.”

  Dory squeezed his arm. “That is wonderful.”

  “No, it feels right to get back to my life. These last five years… To be honest, I feared I would not be able to settle down into being an investigator again. So much has happened.” She didn’t entirely understand what he meant. At no point did he speak about the war. Like so many others, they didn’t want to look back, only to the future. “It is a new job, but it is the same desk.”

  “Really?” Dory said. “Well, they are lucky to have you. You are a brilliant investigator. As I am lucky to have you.” She smiled. Ridley didn’t relish compliments—didn’t know how to respond to them. “But we’ve had an interesting couple of days. We have spoken to many of that poor bride’s friends. Well, Livinia spoke mostly.”

  “You really should leave it in the hands of Capshaw.”

  “And we are, of course. We are not getting in his way at all. He is doing his interviews, of course. Not that we have the slightest inkling of what he is doing.”

  “It is not information that is usually shared with suspects.”

  The statement shocked her, even as she knew she was probably a suspect for this man. He had just about said so when she’d been interviewed by him that first day. But he hadn’t been back. If that meant she was no longer a suspect, she didn’t know. They hadn’t heard hide nor hair from him.

  “But I can tell you that some people are lying.”

  “Oh?” Ridley said, not quite able to help himself.

  “Or hiding their jealousies. At times, some of them paint their friend as not a very nice person, while others sing her praises. How can different people have such different perspectives on the same person?”

  “Because people show different parts of themselves to different people.”

  “Well, Cornelia seems to be the modicum of politeness to anyone older than her, but quite direct with her peers. Even insulting. But then her friends are perhaps doing the same thing. It is an endless maze speaking to these girls. I can’t really see how Capshaw is going to make heads or tails of them.”

  “Suspects always only tell you what they want you to know, and they hide what they don’t—for whatever reason. It doesn’t always signify guilt. People do not willingly admit their faults. Capshaw knows this.”

  “Yes, of course,” Dory said, feeling admonished. Ridley hadn’t really encouraged this investigation right from the start. As long as she had known him, he’d guided her to caution, in case something happened to her. It almost had once. One culprit had tried to fling her over the side of a ship, and if she’d been unlucky, she would have lost her life.

  Even with what she knew, it was so difficult to imagine any of those girls murdering Cornelia Vellsted. Over sheer jealousy too. But it was an assumed motive. They had not established that by any means. In a way, she wished to speak to Ridley about it, but she knew he would only tell her to leave the investigation to Capshaw.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as they walked.

  “Famished. Biscuits and cucumber sandwiches are all I’ve had today. The cucumber was lovely. Homegrown. I have seen some really wonderful gardens in the last few days.”

  “Now perhaps we should speak about anything you particularly wish to do during our days in Brighton after the wedding,” he said. They reached the pub and Ridley held the door open for her.

  “I hadn’t thought about it, to be honest. I don’t know. Truth be told, I haven’t actually seen much of the coast in England.” Except for the odd port. Seaside escapes were never something her family could afford. Summers had always been spent at home, but they had found ways of amusing themselves.

  “There are excursions we could do. Obviously the Pavilion, but there is also Lewes castle.”

  “That sounds nice.” It didn’t matter to her what they did, she was simply excited to spend time with him.

  “How are they faring with the dress? The wedding is coming upon us quickly.”

  “I understand everything is fine. I have a fitting soon.” They had sent a letter to the house suggesting an appointment time. As Dory had very little in her schedule, the suggested time had suited her fine. “I am so very curious how it will look.”

  “I am sure you will look beautiful.”

  Ridley led her to a table and went to the bar to order. “There’s kidney and leek pie today,” he said.

  “Oh, lovely.” Food was a little better, at least on the vegetable front due to the season. Basics such as meat, butter and cheese were more tightly guarded than ever. Sugar was still unheard of, but Mr. Marsham from the village had promised her some of his honey for her wedding. The entire village was looking forward to it—and hence the entire village had to be invited. But they knew they had to pitch in with what they could.

  In a sense, it was a shame she had to leave Swanley. It was her home, even if she hadn’t lived there for any length of time in the last five years. But it could not be with Ridley’s work. His apartment was here in Pimlico, after all.

  Chapter 17

  THEY MET CHARLIE WATERMAN in a bar, sitting in beige trousers and a white shirt. He was fanning himself in the warm bar, looking a little like a blonder and younger version of Clarke Gable. Attractive in a way the girls would fawn over. Yet Corny hadn’t like him and neither did Livinia. His name hadn’t really come up in any of the interviews with the other girls, except Annabelle. It made Dory very curious about him.

  “Ain’t half hot,” he complained as he grudgingly rose and kissed Livinia on the cheek. “Livinia Fellingworth, looking as lovely as ever. Chucked that beau of yours, I hear.” He nodded to Dory and shifted his hat off the table and onto the spare seat.

  “Turned out to be such a bore. How are you, Charlie?”

  “One cannot complain in peacetime. Out of a job, finally.”

  “Yes, you were in the Requisitions Office, weren’t you?”

  “Four long years. Penance for my sins.”

  “What shall you do now?” Livinia asked.

  “Absolutely nothing. I heard you were down in France after that bad business.” That bad business had to refer to Lady Wallisford, Dory assumed.

  “Well, things got a little awkward. The south of France is never awkward.”

  “No matter what one is running from. Will you head back?”

  “Maybe toward winter. One does so adore wintering by the Med.”

  “Yes, invariably.”

  “Now you know this awful business with Cornelia Vellsted,” Livinia said. “We were both there at the time. Dory here is having her wedding dress designed.”

  “Congratulations,” he said with a nod. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, as if taking her measure.

  “Thank you,” Dory replied.

  “What’s your take on it?” Livinia asked.

  With his lips pursed, Charlie blinked. “I mean, it’s absolutely atrocious what happened. I don’t know who could have done it.”

  “You’re such an awful liar,” Livinia chided. “Tell me what you know.”

  “Frankly, I don’t know anything. And as much as Freddy adored her, because he did, she could be a downright bitch.”

  A woman at the next table harrumphed and gave them a scathing look.

  “You didn’t like her,” Dory said.

  “It’s not an issue of like. I never had a problem with her, but Corny knew what she wanted and if you stood in her way, heaven help you.”

  “And what was it she wanted?”

  “A nice, big wedding, of course. Isn’t that what all girls want?”

  “Not all of them,” Livinia said tartly.

  “Are you saying you’d say no?”

  “I’m saying, I’m not getting married for the sake of a wedding.”

  “Then you are smarter than most.”

  Clearly, Mr. Charles Waterman didn’t have the greatest opinion of women. And as opposed to what he said, he didn’t seem to have liked Cornelia Vellsted all that much.

/>   “So who was standing in her way?” Livinia asked playfully. It occurred to Dory that she was being flirtatious, even as she had clearly stated she didn’t like him.

  “No one stood in Cornelia’s way. That was the point, darling. Heaven help you if you got in her way. Like I said, she was a downright bitch.”

  “But to which of them?”

  “Livinia, you know better than that. They are all as bad as each other. Truth be told, I wouldn’t want to stand in your way either if I can avoid it.”

  “You know full well I’m a pussy cat,” Livinia said.

  “Uhmm,” Harry said, clearly disbelieving her.

  “Did you think they were well suited, her and Fredrick?” Dory asked.

  Charles ran his tongue across his teeth as he regarded her. “In many ways, yes. Fredrick wasn’t a complete pansy, so they fought a lot, but what good couples don’t?”

  The question brought her and Ridley to mind. They hadn’t fought much at all. In truth, they hadn’t been together that much. Although she had known him for years, the war had kept them apart. Such things would have to come once they were married. Still, she couldn’t see it. Ridley was so calm and reasonable, and she wasn’t the one to invite discord. “Did she like to fight?”

  “Cornelia? She’d prefer not to be challenged. Equally, I think that was why she liked Freddy because he would challenge her.”

  “And her friends?” Dory asked.

  Now Harry regarded her with a smile, a glint in his eye. “Well, one of them killed her, didn’t they?” All in all, Charlie thought this was amusing. Maybe that was why people didn’t like him. He saw no tragedy here, just comedy, it would seem. A shocking misstep they could snigger about.

  “If you were to pick one to murdered her out of Rose, Prudence and Annabelle, who do you think did it?” Livinia asked.

  “Ooh, what a question. Frankly, I don’t think any of them have it in them, although I could actually see Annabelle do it by accident.”

  “Wouldn’t that be awful, getting murdered by accident?” Livinia said. “If one is to be murdered, one would want the full loathing behind it, wouldn’t one?”

  “I think I prefer not to be murdered at all,” Dory said.

  “I might have to go with Dory on that one,” Charlie said with a wink.

  “But seriously, Charlie. It had to be one of the girls. One of them murdered her—in her wedding dress. And they appear to have brought the knife with them, because no one can account for where it came from.”

  “That is gruesome, isn’t it?” Charlie said with a shiver, but Dory didn’t for a moment believe it was genuine. “Obviously suggesting one of them intended to murder her.”

  “But why in a bridal salon?” Dory asked.

  “Because there would be lots of people there to blame it on?” Livinia suggested. “You, for example.”

  “For what possible motive?”

  “Not sure they were considering motive. So which one of them had an actual motive?” Livinia turned her attention to Charlie.

  “Don’t look at me. I don’t make a habit of murdering brides.”

  “Clearly it was jealousy,” Livinia said. “It is the only possible motive.”

  “Or revenge,” Charlie said.

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Corny’s slights and cuts got too much for one of them and they decided to pay her back once and for all?”

  “Why would they even be friends with her if she treated them like that?” Dory asked.

  “Because she is the right people to be friends with,” he said as if self-explanatory. “And if Corny decides you are nobody, then you are nobody. That is how power works, after all. And now someone has toppled the queen and we will just have to see who takes her place.”

  “You’re such a sadist, Charlie,” Livinia accused.

  “Maybe I just don’t sugar-coat it.”

  “I can tell why everyone likes you so much,” Livinia returned.

  “Because they’re afraid of the truth.”

  “Which is your God-given right to divulge, I suppose.”

  “I just don’t feel people should have secrets if they’re not smart enough to protect them.”

  Dory wondered what kind of secrets Charlie had. Then she wondered how Freddy, who had seemed so lovely and gentle, could be friends with someone like Charlie, but old family ties, old school ties, held strong amongst Livinia’s set. The odd and tentative friendships between Cornelia and her friends proved that.

  “Now, gin and tonic, anyone?” Charlie asked and held up his glass so the bartender could see. “I intend on getting fully inebriated.”

  “Going to lurk around bars all on your lonesome? How sad,” Livinia said with distaste.

  Charlie gave her a warning look. “No, of course not. I’m meeting Freddy in a couple of hours.”

  “Oh, Freddy’s in London? Why is everyone in London this summer?”

  “Because it is lively and he probably wants to get away from the morose atmosphere at home. One can only take so much. Needs a bit of cheering up.”

  It sounded heartless, but Dory understood. After the long years of war, one learned to compartmentalize grief. Joy was needed even in the darkest times, and who hadn’t had their fill of grief and loss?

  “How is Vivian? I hear he’s been in touch,” Charlie said.

  “Yes, he’s in Australia. It seems it’s problematic for him to come home,” Livinia said with a smile, but Dory could see how cautious it was. A news report on the radio had reported on what the conditions had been like in Singapore, and how many of the men deployed there hadn’t survived imprisonment by the Japanese. Dory wasn’t sure if Livinia had heard it, but Cedric or Lord Wallisford must have.

  Discomfort bit down in her belly. It was so awful to think about. In a way, she feared hearing about it, as she feared hearing the horrid stories coming from Germany. There was so much suffering it was hard to take in. In a way, she simply wanted to put the war behind her and never speak of it again.

  Vivian must have suffered, even if he had not eluded to it. He could not have survived all that time in Singapore without suffering. It was difficult to think about. As much as she didn’t like Vivian, she couldn’t gladly hold the thought of him suffering. Even this man, who she was in some ways starting to dislike, she could not imagine standing by if he was suffering. How could things have gone so wrong with the world? Another thought she could not bear delving into. No, she needed to focus on the wedding, and also on Cornelia Vellstep. The world, Dory could do nothing about, but she could about Cornelia—she was sure of it.

  “Alright, I had better return home. If you think of anything, Charlies, please call me.”

  “Are you investigating this, then? Isn’t the police supposed to do that?”

  “The police are. And we wish them the sincerest luck in trying to work out the lies and self-delusions amongst those girls,” she said tartly.

  “I see your point.”

  Actually, he was the first one to do so. Charlie Waterman might not be likable, but he wasn’t stupid, Dory conceded. But in a way, he was a lot like Vivian Fellingworth in that he wasn’t readily likable. Arrogant and self-assured, seeing the faults in others. Although Vivian seemed to delight in seeing the faults in her. Then again, he might be as generous with his criticism to all and sundry for all she knew, but it just seemed as if he specifically targeted her.

  “Well, that was strange,” Livinia said when they got in the car and turned over the engine.

  “Which part of it?” Dory asked.

  “Cornelia’s more dramatic qualities. I don’t know if I entirely trust it. That is not the girl I knew. You know, it wouldn’t half surprise me if it was Charlie simply not being her greatest admirer.”

  Dory considered the words with a frown. “It could well be that she was terse with him because he was terse with her.” That was at least how it played out between her and Vivian. He was terrible to her and she fought back as best she
could.

  “No, I don’t think that is it. I got more of a resentful feeling.”

  “Resentful how? That she was marrying Fredrick and not him?”

  “No, almost the other way around. That he was resentful Fredrick was marrying her.”

  “You think he…”

  “No, that’s the thing. Charlie’s nature isn’t… quirky. But some men are like that, aren’t they, resentful when a woman comes between them and their chums. That I can fully believe of Charlie. You might not have picked up on it, but Charlie is not the greatest fan of women in general.”

  “Somehow that did manage to filter through,” Dory said and looked out along the street as Livinia pulled away. “I could sense his real distress at Cornelia’s murder,” she continued sarcastically.

  “I think we can safely say his dislike for her was genuine. Too bad he wasn’t there at the time,” Livinia said. “A clear suspect. Or perhaps it was a blessing for him that he wasn’t, because he would probably be accused no matter who did it.”

  Chapter 18

  THE SUN BEAT DOWN on Dory as she jabbed her trowel into the ground, planting the tomato plants for late blooming. They would grow in the summer sun, ready for autumn. Her thoughts turned to Ridley, who she had spoken to on the phone the previous day. He was working on a case, a messy one, he’d said, involving the murder of an American GI.

  Messy in the sense that it involved both the American and British militaries, as well as the Home Office. His experience in military intelligence was perhaps an advantage. It might be why the case had been given to him. Normally the American military took care of such things, but the murder had happened on the streets of Soho, while the man had technically been AWOL, as so many were now that the war was over.

  It certainly wasn’t unheard of that American GIs walked off their bases and took up with some girl they’d fallen in love with. In any regard, it was a mess, Ridley had said. Poor man, Dory thought. Survive the war to then get murdered, probably something senseless like a robbery. Oh how she hated people murdering others. There was enough evil in the world without people murdering others for selfish reasons.