Deception in the Cotswolds

by Rebecca Tope

  The lunch with the Ferrier family was ample, original and not entirely comfortable. Although Philippe appeared to be trying his best to recapture the easy friendliness that had characterised roughly half of Thea’s dealings with him, she had seen too much of his other side to be seduced any further. She concentrated on Deborah and the child, with the Arts and Crafts movement the chief topic of conversation. Thea’s background in historical studies proved useful. She expanded on her somewhat rusty knowledge of canals and railways, topic of a dissertation written twenty years earlier, with a brief account of her time in Frampton Mansell, where she was embroiled in local hostilities arising from the renovation of the Cotswold Canal.

  Tamsin listened avidly to Thea’s description of a holiday spent on a narrowboat, one gloriously sunny July, with her daughter Jessica who was five at the time. It had been idyllic by any standards, and for the second time that day, Thea was transported back to her life as a wife and mother, when the world had been warm and easy. ‘Can we do that one day, Mummy?’ the child pleaded. ‘We could take Jasper.’

  ‘Dogs usually like it,’ Thea confirmed. ‘We had two when we went, and they were fine – except for the locks. One of them went crazy when the water started flooding in and the boat rocked. She knocked a whole lot of things into the sink and broke a plate.’

  Tamsin uttered her contagious squeal of laughter, clearly knowing how endearing the adults found her.

  Deborah had prepared a substantial game pie for the meal, containing rabbit, pheasant and venison. ‘All wild,’ she asserted. ‘And local.’

  ‘Wow!’ Thea wasn’t quite sure she approved of the implications. ‘Who killed them?’

  ‘Not me,’ said Philippe, with a camp shudder, reminding Thea of her first impression of him. ‘It’s all perfectly kosher. I hope,’ he added with a smile. ‘There is a slight question mark over the venison, to be honest.’

  ‘No there isn’t, Phil. Don’t be silly,’ his wife admonished. She looked at Thea. ‘There’s a lot of poaching of deer going on, because the meat’s selling so well at the moment. Awful townies coming into the countryside and making a real mess of it. Barbaric stuff we wish we didn’t know about.’

  ‘But aren’t you encouraging it, by buying the meat?’ Thea couldn’t resist asking. ‘I mean – it’s a bit like buying ivory, isn’t it?’

  ‘Probably. But it’s nice, isn’t it?’ The glimpse of Philippe’s character that these words revealed again reminded Thea of her reservations about him. He was lacking in integrity, she decided. Irresponsible, not a serious person. A fair-weather friend. Deborah evidently chose the furnishings for their house and exerted discipline over their daughter. What was left for him to do around the house, other than behave as a handsome drone in his flamboyant shirts?

  Donny Davis was not mentioned once, although he had not disappeared from Thea’s thoughts. She bit back outrageous questions about Cecilia’s heart condition and Philippe’s reported failure to offer his services for nothing. She censored any references to Jemima or Toby or Harriet Young. Be nice, she repeated to herself at regular intervals. Don’t upset anybody.

  At three o’clock, after a large serving of home-made ice cream full of pieces of honeycomb, followed by a rich nutty coffee, Thea made a move to leave. ‘I’m meeting someone in a little while,’ she said. ‘It has been a magnificent meal. Really wonderful.’ She looked at Philippe, sitting with his big woolly dog between his knees. ‘I’m sorry about the dog and her pups. I know I shouldn’t have interfered. But I think anybody would have done the same. I hope you find good homes for the puppies.’

  ‘Think no more about it. It’s done now, and I expect it’ll come right in the end. Things usually do.’

  Thea thought of Donny. Had it come right in the end for him?

  She thought not.

  Only by prolonged use of their mobile phones did she and Drew find each other in the parking area near Painswick Beacon. Vehicles straggled along a rough wide track, angled into the edge of the woods wherever they could find a space. On a sunny Sunday afternoon, it was packed. Thea had to drive along the track for a considerable way and walk back, the spaniel pulling ahead on the lead.

  She was looking for a family comprising two parents and two children, but when she finally saw Drew waving vigorously at her from the top of a slope, there was only him and the children. She unclipped the dog and climbed up to them, pausing for breath and to admire the view before saying, ‘Where’s your wife?’

  ‘She didn’t come,’ he said. ‘This is Stephanie, and this is Timmy.’ He patted each child lightly on the shoulder, and they both stared at her, unsmiling.

  ‘Hello there,’ she said heartily. ‘This is Hepzibah. Are you having a nice day out?’

  They glanced indifferently at the dog. ‘Timmy dropped his ice cream,’ said Stephanie. ‘And Daddy wouldn’t buy him another one.’

  ‘The queue was a mile long,’ Drew protested. ‘And he’d had about half of it.’

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘The wildlife park. It was bedlam.’

  ‘Like here,’ remarked Thea. ‘I suppose it’s the sunshine, bringing them all out.’

  There were knots of people on all sides, scrambling down into an old quarry or walking around its edge. ‘Have you been here long?’

  ‘Ten minutes. We were lucky and got a parking space just as somebody was leaving.’

  ‘So let’s walk to the top, shall we? It’s an old hill fort, according to my map. Two hundred and eighty-three metres above sea level.’

  ‘Is that a lot?’ Drew asked the question in all sincerity, it seemed, not simply wanting the information for his children, who had begun to take more interest in their surroundings.

  ‘It must be something like nine hundred feet, I suppose. I always think a thousand feet is quite high, so yes, it’s respectably elevated.’

  ‘Which way?’

  She looked around, and consulted the Explorer Map she’d brought with her. ‘Due north of here,’ she said with authority. ‘And the sun’s in the west, more or less, so it must be that way.’ She pointed to the far side of the quarry. ‘Where everybody’s coming back from.’

  The children waited passively for instructions, and Thea wondered whether they had the energy for a climb. ‘I don’t think it’s very far,’ she said encouragingly. ‘Follow me.’

  It was further than it looked on the map, with a long straight path leading towards the earthworks that were all that remained of the fort. Just as she was bracing herself for complaints and resistance, she heard Stephanie say, ‘Daddy, this is like Maiden Castle, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is a bit, yes. Well done, Steph. That’s very clever of you.’

  ‘Maiden Castle?’ Thea echoed.

  ‘You know – the big hill near Dorchester. We’ve been there three times. Steph loves it. She says she saw a ghost there.’

  ‘Gosh! And how is it like this?’

  ‘These banked-up ridges are much the same. They had wooden fences on top. It was all fiercely fortified.’

  ‘And stakes,’ said Timmy. ‘They put sharp stakes to stop the army coming in.’

  ‘Well, it looks as if this was a good choice, then,’ said Thea with relief. ‘You know more about it than I do.’

  They progressed up the long sloping walkway to the very top, where a circular plate indicated the places that could be seen on a clear day – which this was. The children were less interested in the view than the imagined warfare that raged a thousand years ago. ‘Roughly speaking,’ said Drew apologetically. ‘I’m not at all sure of the dates, are you?’

  ‘A lot more than a thousand years, I think. If I remember rightly, it’s BC, which means it’s more than two thousand years old. They call it Kimsbury Camp in some of the books.’

  With impressive energy, Stephanie and Timmy began to re-enact their idea of Dark Ages politics, with horses and swords. Hepzie was encouraged to join in, with modest success. Thea found Drew’s children disconcerting on the
whole, mainly due to a worry about her role in the little group and what they might tell their mother. Seizing the opportunity, she told Drew that the mystery of the missing dog in the woods had been solved.

  ‘I was so happy to see her again. The puppies have grown amazingly.’

  ‘You were so upset when she went missing.’

  The memory of weeping on Drew’s chest ought to have been embarrassing, but somehow it wasn’t. ‘I know. I was terrified for their welfare.’

  ‘So what about Donny?’ Drew changed the subject. ‘What’s been happening about him?’

  ‘Loads of theories and suspicions, but nothing concrete.’ She met his eyes and made another switch of topic. ‘Why isn’t Karen with you?’ she asked him outright.

  ‘She’s not well enough. She hasn’t been right for a week or more. I wasn’t sure I should leave her, really, but there are neighbours she can call on if necessary.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. More of the same. They’re talking about doing a brain scan, to see what’s going on. She’s just so flat all the time.’

  ‘It sounds like ME – though nobody seems to get that any more, do they?’

  ‘It’s similar, I suppose. But we’re sure it’s all a result of being shot in the head. There must have been more damage than we first assumed.’

  ‘I can’t imagine what it must have been like, for all of you, not just her.’

  ‘Neither can I, now. We seemed to come through it really well at the time. The kids weren’t especially upset, and once Karen got home from hospital they were fine. We all were, for months. But it slowly dawned on us that she was never going to be the same as before. Even if she’d made a complete physical recovery, the trauma would never entirely disappear.’

  ‘Does she know you’re meeting me?’ The question had been on her mind since she’d realised Karen wasn’t there. It had taken an effort to voice it.

  He took a few seconds to reply. ‘No, actually. It was all a bit chaotic this morning. She was going to come, right up to the last minute. Then I said I’d cancel it and stay with her, but Timmy made such a fuss it seemed easier just to stick to the plan.’

  ‘So when they tell her you came up to the Beacon with a strange lady, what’s Karen going to think?’

  ‘Your guess is probably better than mine,’ he said. He sounded so despondent and helpless that she almost put her arms round him in an effort to comfort him. ‘She’s very unpredictable,’ he explained. ‘The most likely reaction is complete indifference.’

  ‘Oh dear. She really doesn’t sound right.’

  ‘No. And not telling her is definitely the best thing. For her, I mean. If I force her to listen, it’ll seem as if I’m making a big issue of it – an important announcement of some sort.’

  It was a problem that Thea had not encountered before, despite its ordinariness. When a married man spent time with an attractive single woman, there were implications and reverberations that took over, however innocent the intentions. Men never did tell their wives, she supposed, just in case things went out of control and there was reason to deceive after all. But in this case, the children would inevitably complicate matters. She knew Drew well enough to be sure that he would never ask them to keep a secret from their mother. So why had he taken such a risk?

  They were still at the top of the Beacon, gazing at the compelling panorama stretching for many miles in each direction. Conscientiously, they called the children and pointed out the landmarks as indicated on the metal plate. The roofs of Painswick were a fairy-tale jumble, the smaller villages comfortably rooted in their cosy valleys, roads barely discernible until a big lorry crawling along showed where they were. Gradually, as they obediently looked, the spreading patchwork below them caught their imagination.

  ‘It’s a kingdom!’ said Timmy. ‘And I’m the king.’

  ‘The ruler of all you survey,’ said Drew. ‘What a marvellous spot for a fort. Clever people they had in those days.’

  ‘They killed everybody,’ Stephanie objected solemnly. ‘Fighting and killing.’

  ‘Not all the time,’ Thea said. ‘They had plenty of peace as well.’

  ‘Did they?’ said Drew. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘It isn’t possible to fight all the time. There would have been long recovery periods, where the women put it all back together, growing vegetables and making new clothes for everybody, and seeing that the wounds healed. Besides, they call it a “camp”, which suggests it was peaceful most of the time.’

  ‘Sounds rather nice,’ he agreed. ‘But I’m not sure I believe you about recovery periods.’

  ‘I’m right, all the same. It’s obvious. It’s the same now. War is exhausting in all sorts of ways. It has to stop eventually.’

  ‘But people are still dead,’ said the little girl. ‘Thousands of them.’

  ‘True,’ admitted Thea, wondering at the child’s insistence.

  ‘Daddy buries dead people,’ said Timmy – something Thea had temporarily forgotten.

  ‘So he does,’ she smiled. ‘So you know all about it.’

  ‘Not all,’ frowned the undertaker’s son. ‘But I will when I get bigger.’

  ‘Time to get back,’ Drew announced, with a palpable heaviness. ‘Bedtime is already going to be late, and there’s school tomorrow.’

  Thea waited for the customary remark about an impatient Mummy chastising them for staying out too long, but nothing came.

  ‘I’m thirsty,’ said Timmy. ‘And hot.’

  ‘I expect we all are,’ said Drew with an air of helplessness. ‘There’s some water in the car.’

  The children went ahead, scampering down the long incline to the foot of the hill fort. Thea was aware that Drew wanted to talk to her, that he was frustrated at not having time or space for a prolonged conversation. Whilst happy in his company, she was unsure about his evident need for something more. It was unclear where his priorities lay – what was the most urgent topic for him amongst the things they had spoken of so far?

  It was soon revealed. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘This man who died. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve discussed it with Maggs as well. We’re both convinced he didn’t kill himself. It just shouts out that it couldn’t possibly have been suicide. I think you have to contact the police and explain about his appointment with me. People don’t make appointments the day before they take their own life.’

  ‘I know. But there’s no evidence. The police can’t do anything on suspicion or hunches. They’ve questioned everybody concerned, and been back to the house. I think Higgins has been a lot more thorough than anybody would expect. He’s not at all convinced that it was suicide, either. He came to see me again this morning. Really I don’t think there’s anything more I can tell him.’

  ‘Has he checked the phone? Did Donny have email? Does anyone inherit anything of value? Did he make any provisions for his funeral?’

  ‘He didn’t have email. He left everything in trust for his wife. I’m not sure about the other things.’ She spread her hands. ‘I can’t see what else we can do. Harriet will come home on Saturday, and maybe have something to add. Oh – and Deborah Fawcett said a funny thing, about kind acts sometimes being against the law. It felt as if she was trying to tell me something important.’

  ‘Deborah Fawcett? Who’s she?’

  ‘She’s a famous designer of soft furnishings. Married to Philippe, where I had lunch.’

  ‘Did she know Donny?’

  ‘I assume so. Her mother-in-law is his lady friend’s sister.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘So she is.’

  ‘Do you mean you really are keeping up with all the names and connections, after only a couple of visits?’

  ‘It’s second nature,’ he grinned. ‘A vital part of my profession, if you think about it. You only confuse somebody’s wife with his daughter once, before you learn to be extremely meticulous about family relationships, I promise you.’ He paused, then said, ‘So she
thinks Donny was killed out of kindness.’

  ‘Apparently. But she was very oblique about it.’

  ‘Could she mean that her husband did it, but she couldn’t say that outright? Did she try to take you to one side and elaborate?’

  ‘Not at all. Why would she?’

  ‘Did he give her a sharp look when she said that about kind acts?’

  ‘Not that I noticed. I don’t see why it would be him, anyway. He’s not very kind, and has nothing to gain.’

  ‘As far as we know,’ Drew corrected her.

  ‘OK. But I can’t see it. She’s much more likely to have been talking about Edwina.’

  ‘Maggs thinks that book is significant. The one your employer wrote.’

  ‘I don’t see how.’

  ‘She could have come with me today. She wanted to.’

  ‘Why didn’t she, then? I’d like to meet her.’

  ‘I’m not sure I could cope with both of you at once.’ He said it lightly, again leaving Thea wondering just what was going on inside his head. ‘I told her about the Manor. She’d love to see it.’

  ‘Oh – you know those paintings in the gallery? Well, I think they’re by Evelyn De Morgan. She was quite famous in her time, although always overshadowed by the men. She was quite prolific. It’s possible nobody knows about them. They might even have been in the house since soon after it was built.’ Even as she spoke, she knew it was nothing more than foolish fantasy.

  Drew evidently saw it like that, too. ‘Surely not. There’d have been inventories for probate and so forth every time it changed hands.’

  But she persisted with her fancies, for no better reason than to enjoy a gentle argument. ‘They could have been tucked away in an attic and Harriet only just found them. They are quite grimy.’

  He looked at her sternly, glancing away at the children, waiting obediently in the distance. ‘Is this relevant?’ he asked.

  ‘Almost certainly not. But I bet Maggs would be interested.’

  ‘She said she was going to read every single word about Harriet’s book, on the Internet. There’s quite a lot.’

  ‘But nothing from Donny, because he didn’t have a computer.’