by Ann Purser
“Well, what’s that got to do with Melvyn?” Lois asked and found herself thinking defensively that whatever else, he seemed one of the most gentle lads she had met. None of the crude belligerence of the other kids on the estate. He handled Josie as if she was a china doll.
“Probably nothing,” Peter White said slowly. “I just thought I’d mention it. You know what they say about violence breeding violence.”
“Oh right, yes, thanks, Vicar,” she said.
“Derek has threatened Melvyn with God knows what if he comes near Josie again. Looks like Josie’ll need watching, too. Mind you,” she added, “Derek gave them such a blasting I don’t think they’ll try anything on again.”
Peter White’s expression did not change. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” he said quietly. “Don’t forget Melvyn is a young man in many ways. Not a child any more. Not like Josie. Now, Lois,” he added with unusual confidence, “it is time for coffee for both of us. And you are going to sit down with me in the kitchen, whether you like it or not!”
Ten minutes before Lois was due to leave the vicarage, there was a knock at the door. She heard the vicar open it and then the unmistakably brisk tones of Nurse Surfleet. “Just delivering these parish council papers,” she said. “I’d like you to have a good look at them before the meeting, if poss.” Lois eavesdropped idly. She wasn’t really interested, still brooding about Josie. Then she heard her name. “Is Lois still with you?” Gillian Surfleet said, and then the vicar came to the foot of the stairs and called.
“Just a little word, Lois,” said the nurse, when the vicar had shown them both into the sitting room and shut the door. “I just thought I should warn you.”
Oh God, thought Lois, not another sodding warning!
Gillian Surfleet was continuing, “It seems Professor Barratt has been saying to one or two people – I heard him myself in the shop – in a jokey way that we should all beware of Lois Meade, the snooping house cleaner. “Lock up your papers!” I heard him say to Dr Rix. The doctor was buying stamps and looked very surprised.”
Lois was stunned. How bloody dare he? She resisted the impulse to rush out and tackle the Professor. Instead, she asked, “What did Dr Rix say?”
“Snubbed him good and proper,” Gillian Surfleet said. “Told him you had an exemplary record and had been a good friend to his family for some time.”
“And what did he have to say to that?”
“Unsquashable, that one. Just laughed, said one of his stupid Latin things, and added that the doctor couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned. Then he left the shop, still laughing!”
Gillian patted Lois on the arm, told her not to worry, but just be a bit cautious, then she was gone, saying she had to rush off to Fletching on an errand of mercy. Lois’s first reaction was to go at once and sort out that disgusting Malcolm Barratt. What did he think he was playing at? When she calmed down, she began to think more rationally. There must be some reason for his actions.
Was he scared she would make public his threatening behaviour? Was he frightened of something else, something she might have discovered about him if she had indeed been shuffling through his papers? Better do nothing, she decided finally. Give him enough rope and he could quite possibly hang himself.
∗
The rest of the week and the weekend at home with Derek and the kids passed in an unnatural calm. When they spoke to each other, it was about trivial household matters. And at the Baers’ on Friday, neither Dallas nor Evangeline had talked much to Lois, beyond the usual greetings, instructions and polite enquiries about her family. Lois had noticed that there were no papers on Dallas’s desk. This was unusual. There were always piles of papers and an expensive onyx desk set. That was still there, but the trays of papers had gone. So, the distinguished professor had been talking to Dallas, too. Well, what did it matter? If Dallas Baer had anything to hide, he was sly enough to make sure he left nothing around by accident. He hadn’t put a foot wrong since that episode of the fall, and he and Evangeline were both behaving like cats who’d got the cream. Lois had noticed the sudden appearance of baby books and waited for the news to be broken to her. She remembered the morning Evangeline had spent writing letters. That was probably when they’d found out. Well, she was not keen to rejoice with the Baers just at the moment. They could guard their wonderful secret for as long as they liked.
Lois decided to keep Malcolm Barratt’s outburst to herself for the moment. If Dr Rix was in a good mood, she might mention it to him on Monday. Thank him for sticking up for her. She had grown fond of the doctor and his wife since they’d opened up the baby’s room, and she trusted him to tell her the truth.
∗
Derek had begun to tidy up the winter garden, pulling up yellowing stalks of sprouts and raking up leaves that had escaped his autumn sweeping. Spring won’t be long, he’d promised her. She had told him about Peter White’s warning and he’d looked alarmed. He never wanted to hear Melvyn’s name mentioned again, he said sternly to Josie, and she’d flounced off upstairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her. The subject was closed, Derek had decided firmly, and it was time he got back to earning a living for them all.
Lois could not forget, however. She thought more than once of contacting Hunter Cowgill. Keith Simpson was helpful, but he didn’t give her that comforting feeling of authority in charge. Josie’s troubles were nothing to do with Gloria Hathaway, of course, so she would probably just get a polite brush-off from the Inspector. It would have to be Keith, then, she decided. He might remember something about the Hallhouses, something to reassure her. Lois could not get out of her mind that last sight of Melvyn, his face taut with misery as he watched their car bumping down the rutted track, his hand raised in a hopeless salute to a disappearing Josie.
Thirty-Four
Dr Rix was in his surgery when Lois arrived on Monday as usual. She noticed that Mary Rix was still cheerful, full of promises to show Lois how the patchwork was going and plans for attending an exhibition of embroidery and needlework at Ringford Hall in the spring. The house was warm and friendly.
It was half way through the morning when Lois heard the doctor emerge, shouting to Mary that it was all clear and could he please have a cup of strong coffee. He joined his wife and Lois at the kitchen table and the three sat companionably drinking and talking about village events.
“The dreaded J. was waiting for me again this morning, first in the queue,” the doctor said, and his wife grimaced sympathetically. Lois had no idea who he meant, but smiled anyway. “There every week, Lois,” he continued. “One imagined ailment after another. Poor soul is a bit lacking, you know. What a family!” He went on to describe them, being careful not to name names, full of compassion and a sincere wish to do more than he was able.
Lois was fascinated. She looked at Dr Rix with admiration. This was a real doctor, who knew all the village people and listened to their most intimate confidings as well as just their ailments. She thought of the medical practice in Tresham, where you were lucky to see your own doctor and where each patient was given the allotted few minutes’ attention, with no time for the chatting that often led to the real cause of illness.
It was with absolute confidence that Lois said, as Dr Rix finished his coffee and stood up to go, “Could you spare me a few seconds, doctor? I just wanted to ask you something.”
He paused and looked at his wife. She nodded imperceptibly and he said that Lois should fire away, he had no secrets from Mary. For some reason, this took away all Lois’s resolve and she stuttered something about rumours of Professor Barratt going round the village saying bad things about her. “Still,” she added, “I believe you stood up for me, doctor, and I just wanted to thank you.”
To her surprise, Dr Rix said shortly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lois. It doesn’t do to listen to gossip. Now, Mary, if you’ll excuse me, I must get on.” And he walked out of the kitchen before Lois could say anything more.
Left with M
ary Rix sitting in silence at the table, Lois felt small and foolish. “Right,” she said. “Better get on myself,” and made to get up from her chair.
Mary stretched out her hand and patted Lois’s arm. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “We all know you’re completely reliable. Good gracious!” she continued, “there’s nobody less likely to snoop than you, Lois!”
So they did know. Then why had the doctor behaved so strangely? Oh, sod them all, thought Lois, and went back to work. Halfway through the morning, Dr Rix had a caller. It was Nurse Surfleet and as she was ushered into the doctor’s surgery, she heard her say, “Well, Andrew, I think the time has come now, don’t you? Something will have to be done…” The study door shut behind them and Lois felt that nasty twinge of fear again. She lingered as long as she could, washing out dusters and tidying the broom cupboard, until Mary Rix reminded her of the time. The two were still closeted together as she left. Gillian Surfleet must have walked to the doctor’s. Wouldn’t she usually have had her car?
For goodness sake! Lois mentally rapped herself sharply across the knuckles. Wasn’t it the most likely and normal thing for the community nurse to be in confidential consultation with the local GP? And why shouldn’t she walk? It was only a matter of yards from her house to the surgery. Ridiculous to suppose that they were talking about her. On the other hand, it was Gillian who had warned her against accusations of snooping. But then Dr Rix had denied any knowledge of it. What were they up to? It was beginning to look very much as if they were in league together. But what for? And how was it all connected with Gloria Hathaway?
Lois thought hard about it on her way home and began to see connections. It would soon be time to contact Hunter Cowgill. She had just started on the ironing, and was immersed in a radio play, when the telephone rang.
“Hello, Lois,” said Keith Simpson. “How’s things now? All sorted out with young Josie?” Lois was grateful for his call and said that Josie had gone back to school and Derek had forbidden any more contact with Melvyn Hallhouse.
“By the way,” she said, “I wanted to ask you something.”
Keith had heard none of the gossip about the Hallhouses and suggested she should forget about it. “There aren’t many of us who haven’t given the kids a quick smack in the heat of the moment!”
“Yes, but this might have been a bit different…”
Keith Simpson sighed. “I’m sure we’d have heard if there’d been anything serious, Lois,” he said. Then he announced the real reason for his call. The Inspector would like to meet.
“When?” said Lois, not sure that she was really ready.
“Now…well, as soon as you can get to Alibone Woods,” said Keith.
“But I’ve just started the ironing.” There was no answer to that, as she knew there wouldn’t be, and she put away the ironing board, took her coat, and left the house. It was raining and she stepped straight into a puddle by her car. Her mood was not good by the time she reached the woods.
Hunter Cowgill’s car was out of sight along the track, as before, and Lois walked on past it. He was waiting for her, leaning against a tree. “Ah, Lois,” he said. “Understand you’ve been having a spot of family trouble.”
“Yes,” said Lois, “but that’s not why you want to see me. I haven’t got much time before the kids come back from school, so can we get on with it?”
His face changed, hardened, and he said, “What do you know about the Rixes?”
Lois raised her eyebrows. “Quite a lot,” she said. “I’ve been there a long time. What d’you want to know?” Her mind was racing. She would have had no problem telling Cowgill everything she knew about the Rixes; Dr Rix’s long record of dedication to his patients, his kindness to her, Mary’s courage in dealing with the little nursery. Nothing to hide, not with the Rixes. That is, until this morning. First the doctor’s strange reaction to her thanks for defending her against Professor Barratt, and then the conference with Nurse Surfleet. Try as she might, she could not get rid of a suspicion that something was out of kilter, something to do with her…the snooping cleaner.
“Well, have you ever heard anything said in their house about Gloria Hathaway? More than just the proper reaction to her murder? Were there any quarrels in your presence, between doctor and wife? Ever heard any gossip about the doctor’s private life…you know?”
“Dr Rix? You mean having it off with somebody?” Lois was shocked. The very idea was so unthinkable that she laughed. “He’s like a nice old bear, only cleverer,” she said. “Quite cuddly, in his way, but never sexy!” But as she said it, she knew that this was ridiculous. The doctor was not all that old, late fifties, and every bit as sexy as any other bloke who’d been good-looking and ambitious in his time. She’d never seen any hugs or kisses with Mary, but they were not that sort. Not in front of the servants, especially snooping ones. What on earth had they got hold of now? His next remark was another shock.
“We are investigating the possibility that Gloria Hathaway may have been closer to Dr Rix than just a doctor-patient relationship,” said Cowgill, in a very official voice. “One or two leads have pointed us in this direction. We shall be asking for his help, of course, but I thought you might be able to come up with something to consolidate our suspicions.”
“Shop the doctor!” said Lois. “Why should I do that when I’ve never seen or heard anything out of the way? I know for a fact that Gloria Hathaway was a disgusting old cow, but not with the doctor. He’d never have had anything to do with her…couldn’t get her out of his surgery fast enough. No, you’re barking up the wrong tree there, Inspector.”
Cowgill said, “Disgusting old cow? Do you want to tell me more about that?”
So Lois gave him an edited version. It was a relief to tell someone outside the family, someone who scarcely knew Derek.
He just nodded and put his hand on her shoulder. “Bloody men,” he said sympathetically. He asked no more questions about that and returned to questions about the doctor.
“We just need to find out a bit more,” and he gave her that half smile. “There are, of course, other people who have come to our notice as suspects. They’re not confined to your clients only! We have had information about the doctor from a village source…no one you know,” he added, his voice warming. “And I’m afraid it is important enough for me to get you out here in the middle of a damp wood in winter when you could have been ironing and preparing tea for your family.”
“Have you got a family?” Lois asked suddenly.
His face closed up. “Yes and no,” he said. “But you won’t want to know about that. Anyway, Lois, if you could just tell me anything…your routine at the doctor’s, who lets in the patients, how much Mary Rix is involved in the practice, that kind of thing?”
He looked quite human now, even a bit sad, so Lois told him about Gloria being a regular at the surgery, about Mary Rix being cross that she took up so much of the doctor’s time. She said it was nothing untoward. Everyone knew that Gloria was a creaking door, always some small ailment, but never anything really serious.
“It was serious in the end,” said Hunter Cowgill, and Lois waited for him to continue, but he changed the subject. “Anyway, thanks, Lois. And if you think of anything else, just get in touch. Simpson thinks a lot of you, you know. Said you’d had a really rough time with your daughter. I do appreciate your coming.”
Lois shrugged and started back along the track. She half tripped over a concealed tree root and at once Hunter Cowgill was at her side, his hand under her arm. “Careful,” he said smoothly. “We don’t want you coming to any harm.”
∗
The ironing was finished by the time Josie came trudging through the door, shoulders drooping as if carrying the cares of the world.
“Hello, love,” Lois said. “Busy day at school?”
“It was all crap,” said Josie. “I’m tired. Don’t want any tea.” She dumped her bag on the floor and went through to the hall and up the stairs without ans
wering Lois’s questions. Lois forgot all about the Rixes and Detective Inspector Cowgill and rushed upstairs after her.
“Don’t you feel well?” she repeated anxiously. “Let’s have a look at you.”
With relief, she saw that Josie’s eyes were clear, her cheeks a healthy pink from the cold rain and that apart from an expression of utter misery, she looked fine.
“I suppose it’s Melvyn,” she said. Might as well come straight to the point. “You think you’re missing him?”
Josie gave her a contemptuous look. “I am missing him,” she said and sat down on her bed, cuddling the ginger kitten and turning her back on her mother.
“Got a telling-off today,” she said after a few minutes’ sulky silence.
“What for?” said Lois.
“Not doing my homework,” said Josie, with no sign of remorse. “Why can’t I leave school and get a job?”
“Because you are too young, as you very well know!” said Lois, losing patience.
“Melvyn said I could go and stay at his house, with his Mum and Dad, in the Easter holidays,” Josie said tentatively, as if knowing the answer to that one.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Lois. “You know your father would never hear of it. Don’t even suggest it to him.”
“But you could, Mum. He listens to you.”
“I agree with him!” said Lois.
“Oh, go away,” said Josie.
Lois took a deep breath. “Josie Meade,” she said. “Look at me, please! I am not going away. You are my daughter and you’re still a child. Your dad and me are responsible for you and until you’re old enough to support yourself, you’ll do what you’re told. And be cheerful about it.” Josie was sitting up straight now, alarmed at her mother’s sharp tone. “And as for Melvyn,” Lois continued angrily. “You can just forget he exists. There’ll be plenty of boyfriends for you, you stupid girl. Nice lads, with proper ideas of how to go on. If you carry on with this nonsense, you’ll end up with a social worker and quite likely put into care, being out of our control. So, if that’s what you want, OK, carry on. Please yourself. But in the meantime, Dad and me will give the orders, and you’ll do as we say.”
