Rogue in Porcelain

by Anthea Fraser

  ‘Tell you when I see you,’ Lindsey said rapidly, and rang off.

  Rona frowned, shrugged off her car coat and hung it on the hall stand. She’d intended making a cup of tea, but now she’d wait for Lindsey. She’d sounded upset, Rona thought worriedly, as she took her briefcase up to the study. Dropping it on a chair, she extracted the brochures and leaflets she’d collected and laid them on the desk, ready to be gone through in the morning. She did, however, unfold the family tree Meg Fairclough had given her. Beneath both Finlay and Nick’s names was printed the stark word ‘Divorced’.

  She was still looking at it when the door bell sounded through the house and she ran downstairs to admit her sister.

  ‘Lindsey, what—’

  Lindsey pushed past her into the house and promptly burst into tears. Thoroughly alarmed now, Rona put an arm round her.

  ‘It’s not Mum or Pops, is it?’

  Lindsey shook her head and Rona, breathing a tremulous sigh of relief, led her down the basement stairs to the kitchen, where she collapsed onto a chair. Rona put the kettle on and leaned back against the Aga.

  ‘Now, what is it?’

  Lindsey fumbled in her bag for a handkerchief and blew her nose. ‘Carol Hurst called at the office this morning,’ she said.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And Jonathan and I were – together.’

  Rona frowned. ‘How together?’

  ‘Kissing, that’s all,’ Lindsey said impatiently, ‘but my blouse was undone. God, Rona –’ she pressed both fists against her temples – ‘I hate myself for what I’ve done to that woman! Letting myself be hoodwinked by all that “what the eye doesn’t see” spiel. Of course we’re hurting her, cheapening her marriage, if nothing else.’

  Rona cut sharply into the tirade. ‘Are you saying she caught you?’

  ‘No, but only just not.’

  ‘So why the drama? You’ve known all along what you were doing.’

  Lindsey’s eyes fell. ‘It was the first time I’ve seen them together,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I’d convinced myself it wasn’t a happy marriage, and just – blotted out her and the children. But it’s obvious she thinks the world of him, and she was so trusting, Ro. She even asked if she was interrupting anything.’

  The kettle shrilled and Rona turned to pour the tea. Behind her, Lindsey went on speaking.

  ‘At first, I was just relieved we’d managed to get away with it, but I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I’ve been thinking of her all afternoon.’

  Rona put two mugs on the table and sat down opposite her. ‘Go on.’

  ‘After lunch I went to Jonathan’s office to collect some files, and he was so bloody cool about it. He even put an arm round me and said, “To continue where we left off . . .”. And I realized I’d been burying my head in the sand, aiding and abetting him in his sordid little affair, while all the time he’d been playing the perfect husband.’

  ‘Did you tell him any of this?’

  ‘I tried to, but he wasn’t having any. He said I’d had a fright, that was all, and I’d soon recover my balance, and Carol didn’t suspect a thing. As though that would make me feel better! Then he actually said, “It adds a bit of spice to it, don’t you think? Like that time your mother came to your flat while we were in bed.” She flashed a glance at Rona. ‘I told you about that. I just couldn’t believe how unfeeling he was.’

  She took a sip of the scalding tea. ‘What’s wrong with me, Ro? Why can’t I find someone like Max and settle down, instead of lurching from man to man like this?’

  ‘Because you’re a poor judge of men; I’ve always said so. But you told me Jonathan wouldn’t last much longer, so why the histrionics? Here’s the ideal chance to cut your losses. Anyway, I thought you’d found someone else?’

  ‘Wrong on both counts: What I said was that the thing with Jonathan wasn’t long-lasting, but I certainly didn’t expect it to end this soon. And I haven’t found someone, I’ve seen him, that’s all. Nothing may come of it.’

  ‘You seemed pretty confident last time we spoke.’

  ‘Only because I usually get my way,’ Lindsey said bitterly.

  There was a brief silence. ‘Do I gather Jonathan doesn’t want to end it?’ Rona hazarded.

  ‘Oh no, he’s perfectly happy with his bit on the side. He’s convinced I’ll get over my pangs of conscience.’

  ‘Well, mind you don’t. Think how you’d feel if she had caught you, and you were responsible for the break-up of her marriage. Heaven knows, I never thought I’d say this, but why don’t you just stick to Hugh? At least he has no other commitments.’ She paused. ‘Are you going to Guildford with him this weekend?’

  ‘I might as well, mightn’t I? It could help me sort myself out. I might even take your advice, though both parents would have a stroke if Hugh and I got back together.’

  ‘Well, there were plenty of pieces to pick up last time.’

  ‘You won’t tell Max about this, will you? I don’t want to lower his opinion of me still further.’

  ‘Secrets of the confessional. That’s what twins are for.’

  ‘So.’ Lindsey blew her nose again. ‘Enough about me; what have you been up to?’

  Rona smiled. ‘Today, I had lunch with two attractive, unattached men.’

  Lindsey gave a brief laugh. ‘Some people have all the luck,’ she said.

  Rona didn’t mention her sister’s visit when Max and Gus returned shortly after Lindsey’d left. It would have been impossible to do so without giving some reason for it, and she’d plenty to tell him about her trip to Chilswood.

  ‘So what are they like, en famille?’ Max asked, pouring them both a drink.

  ‘They seemed very pleasant, even if they have antediluvian ideas about women.’

  Max grinned. ‘Kinde, kurche, küche?’

  ‘Pretty much, but they didn’t like me commenting on it. Would you believe, no women members of the family have ever had any part in the firm?’

  ‘Perhaps they didn’t want to,’ Max suggested mildly, passing her a glass.

  ‘That’s what they tried to tell me. Anyway, I went on a factory tour, which was interesting; it began with a twenty-minute film on the firm’s history, and should have ended with a visit to the museum, but I had to skip that because we were running late and I was meeting the directors for lunch. So I’ve earmarked it for my next visit.’

  She sipped her vodka. ‘They’re pretty freaked out about this new product they’re launching. It seems they’re beset on all sides by people trying to break in and discover what it is.’

  ‘Par for the course, I’d say. If you announce you’ve got a secret, you’re inviting trouble. They should have kept quiet about it.’

  The telephone rang, and he reached behind to retrieve it. ‘Yes – hang on a minute. Who shall I say is speaking?’

  He raised his eyebrows and handed Rona the phone. ‘For you. Reigate police.’

  She stared at him in bewilderment. ‘Who?’ Then, as he merely shrugged, she said into the mouthpiece, ‘Hello?’

  ‘Rona Parish?’ It was a woman’s voice.

  ‘Yes, speaking.’

  ‘It’s Reigate police station, ma’am, phoning to say we’ve found your handbag.’

  ‘My handbag?’ Rona repeated blankly.

  ‘It was handed in this afternoon. No money in it, I’m afraid, only—’

  ‘But – I haven’t lost a handbag,’ Rona protested.

  There was an uncertain pause. ‘Perhaps I should have said shoulder-bag? Brown leather, with a broken strap? Of course, it mightn’t have been broken when—’

  ‘I haven’t lost any kind of bag!’ Rona interrupted. ‘And Reigate, did you say? I’ve never been there in my life!’ She frowned. ‘How did you get my name?’

  ‘It was inside the bag, on a slip of paper. Rona Parish, 19 Lightbourne Avenue, Marsborough, and the phone number I’ve just rung.’

  ‘But that’s – weird,’ Rona said slowly. ‘Where was it foun
d?’

  ‘In some bushes by the side of the road. Thrown there, I should say, after everything of value had been taken. There’s no purse or wallet, not even a diary or keys; just toiletry things – lipstick, comb and so on.’

  ‘And no one has reported losing it?’

  ‘Not so far. You seemed our best lead.’

  ‘Who handed it in?’ Rona asked after a moment.

  ‘The wife of a local vicar.’ Another pause, then: ‘Have you any friends in the area, who might have jotted down your address?’

  ‘No, I don’t even know anyone in Surrey. So what happens now?’

  ‘We’ll keep the bag in Lost Property, and if no one claims it within a certain time, it’ll be disposed of. It’s not as though there’s anything of value.’

  The policewoman waited, and when Rona made no comment, continued, ‘I’m sorry to have troubled you, Ms Parish, but if you remember anything that might identify the owner, perhaps you’d let us know.’ She gave a phone number and reference, which Rona wrote down, and rang off.

  ‘What the hell was that all about?’ Max demanded.

  ‘You heard most of it. A handbag was found in Reigate with a piece of paper in it, giving my name, address and phone number.’

  ‘It could have been supplied by Chiltern Life.’

  Rona shook her head emphatically. ‘They never give out private details. It’s weird, Max. We don’t know anyone living in or near Reigate, do we?’

  ‘Not that I recall, no, but I suppose someone could have been passing through.’

  ‘And why didn’t she – and it has to be a she – report losing the bag? It must have contained credit cards, not to mention house and car keys, and quite likely a mobile as well.’

  ‘The point is, how did she lose it?’ Max mused. ‘It could have been snatched by a mugger, or pinched during a break-in, or simply taken from under her chair in a restaurant.’

  ‘Whichever way, you’d report it, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Not, perhaps, if it was in an incriminating place.’

  ‘Incriminating?’

  ‘Somewhere the owner had no reason to be.’

  Rona shook her head dismissively. ‘It was found in some bushes; there’d be no way of telling where it had been taken from.’

  ‘Then there might have been something in it she didn’t want to be linked with – drugs, say. For all she knows, they, or traces of them, could still be in the bag.’

  Rona picked up her glass and drank from it. ‘We can speculate all night, but the fact remains that an unknown person has been walking round with my name and address in her handbag. Not a very comfortable thought.’

  ‘I admit it’s odd, but there has to be a logical explanation.’

  ‘I’d certainly like to hear it.’

  ‘Well, there’s no point in worrying, so sit down and relax while I make a start on the meal.’

  After a moment Rona shrugged, and pulled out a chair. ‘The Curzons were amazed when I said you did the cooking. Not in their scheme of things at all.’

  ‘Let’s face it, it’s not in most people’s. Generally speaking, it’s the women who do the cooking, whether or not they go out to work. I hope you realize how lucky you are.’

  ‘Oh, I do. Talking of cooking, I told Barnie we’d fix a date for them to come to supper. Dinah’s feeling rather down, now Mel and the family have left.’

  ‘Fine by me. This week’s out, of course, with the visit to Tynecastle, but next Wednesday or Friday would be OK, if they’re free. Now, how about making yourself useful, and peeling some potatoes?’

  Four

  Lindsey, who lived out of town, had offered to collect Rona on her way to supper with their mother, to avoid taking two cars. On the drive out to Belmont, the suburb where Avril lived, Rona told her about the mysterious handbag.

  ‘Creepy!’ was Lindsey’s less than reassuring comment.

  ‘Don’t mention it to Mum,’ Rona warned her. ‘She’d only panic that there’s a stalker after me, or something.’

  ‘Perhaps there is,’ Lindsey rejoined.

  ‘Well, at least it’s a female one. Max says there must be an explanation, but I can’t think of one. I’ve never been near Reigate in my life.’ She flicked a sideways glance at her sister. ‘Did you see Jonathan today?’

  ‘Of course I saw him,’ Lindsey said testily. ‘We work together, don’t we?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  Her sister sighed. ‘There wasn’t a chance to talk privately, but frankly, I didn’t want one.’

  ‘You haven’t changed your mind?’

  ‘About finishing with him? Not really.’

  ‘What do you mean, not really? You’re not having second thoughts, are you?’

  ‘Oh God, I don’t know, Ro. He has a point, though, hasn’t he? Provided Carol doesn’t find out, we’re not hurting anyone.’

  ‘I just don’t believe you!’ Rona said flatly.

  ‘I’m not sure I believe myself. Anyway, we’ll see what transpires with Hugh this weekend.’

  Perhaps fortunately, the conversation was cut short by their arrival at Maple Drive, and Rona braced herself for this first visit to the house since her parents’ separation.

  Avril opened the door to them, trim and attractive in plum velvet. An appetizing smell of garlic pricked at their nostrils as they hung their jackets on the hall stand, now bereft of their father’s overcoat. Otherwise, Rona thought, relief mingling with indignation, the house looked surprisingly the same.

  As though to negate the impression, Avril said eagerly, ‘Shall I show you the alterations before we sit down?’and at their assent led the way upstairs and into her bedroom. On the right-hand wall, where Tom’s wardrobe had always stood, a doorway now led into an en suite, converted from the old box room next door.

  ‘It’s lovely, Mum,’ Lindsey exclaimed, taking in the ivory fitments and pale blue tiling.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe the problems I had!’ Avril told them. ‘First there was a delay in delivery, then when the units did arrive, they were the wrong size and I couldn’t close the door, so we had to start all over again. The guest room was just as bad; the decorator had barely stripped the walls when he went down with flu, and was off for two weeks.’

  ‘Let’s see the finished result, then,’ Rona prompted, and they crossed the landing to the other front room, where their grandmother, now dead, had stayed on her infrequent visits. Redecorated and with new curtains and bed cover, the ambience was altogether fresher than Rona remembered, and though the familiar furniture remained, including the button-back chair that had been Grandma’s, a drop-leaf table now stood in the window, and a small television in one corner.

  ‘You’ve done wonders with it,’ Lindsey said warmly.

  ‘The curtains only arrived yesterday. I was on tenterhooks in case they wouldn’t be up in time for you to see them.’

  ‘It all looks lovely, Mum,’ Rona told her. ‘Now all you need is an occupant.’

  ‘I may have some news on that front, too,’ Avril said happily. ‘Come downstairs and I’ll tell you about it over a drink.’

  ‘You’ve surely not had a reply already?’ Lindsey asked, when they’d all seated themselves.

  ‘Not to the ads, no. But it turned out that Mary Price, who works at the library, has a friend at the school, and when she happened to mention I was looking for a lodger, this woman said she knew of someone who might be interested. A new teacher is due to start after Easter, and so far she’s not found anywhere to live. Mary passed on my name, and I’m waiting to hear from her. It would certainly be a bonus if it could be settled so quickly.’

  ‘Oh – I almost forgot.’ Rona leaned over to retrieve her bag from the floor. ‘I’ve a present for you.’

  ‘But you brought some wine; that’s more than—’

  ‘This is a little extra,’ Rona told her, handing over a small package and watching with a smile as she unwrapped it. Inside was a china marmalade pot and spoon, and as Avril excl
aimed with pleasure, Rona added, ‘It’s to mark your venture into B&B.’

  ‘Oh darling, it’s lovely!’ Avril jumped up and went to kiss Rona’s cheek. ‘It’s Curzon, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes; I was at the pottery on Wednesday – I’m going to feature them in the series. I had a wander round the shop, and when I saw that, I couldn’t resist it. I’m assured it’s in this year’s design – scenes from the Chilterns. I think that one’s the Bridgewater Monument.’

  Seeing her mother’s delight in the gift, Rona marvelled again at the change in her. For several years she’d let herself go, not bothering with make-up, wearing the same dreary clothes and, even worse, continually criticizing her husband and daughters. Ironically, it had taken the end of her marriage to shake her into a realization of what she had become. Now, with an attractive new haircut, her recovered sense of style, and an interesting job to stimulate her, she seemed a different woman. Too bad it had come too late to save her marriage.

  Half an hour later, it was apparent that Avril’s cooking too had transformed itself. She’d always been a good plain cook, happiest with roasts and casseroles, but this was nothing like the ‘stew’ Rona remembered from childhood. Beef, mushrooms, peppers and garlic blended to form a delicious combination, served with a bowl of fragrant Thai rice. It was almost, Rona thought, up to Max’s standard.

  Dessert was pavlova, also an innovation, and as she served it, Avril glanced from one daughter to the other. ‘Have either of you spoken to your father today?’

  They both shook their heads.

  ‘Then you won’t know that we had lunch together.’

  There was a startled silence. Lindsey was the first to find her voice. ‘Really? How did that come about?’

  ‘We bumped into each other yesterday, in Guild Street, and as it was nearly one o’clock and neither of us had eaten, he suggested we join up. It was – very pleasant.’

  ‘Well, that’s – great,’ Rona said lamely.

  Avril gave her a brittle smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not under any illusions that we’ll get back together. Too much water under the bridge for that, on both sides. But it’s nice that we’re able to meet on friendly terms again. And I really have you and Max to thank for that, for more or less insisting we all spent Christmas together.’