Vicki’s answer was not verbal; the sulky expression on her face conveyed her feelings perfectly.
Remembering how much she loved Christmas when she was sixteen Sandra felt a sudden pang of guilt. “Okay, I’ll give you a choice. If you want a tree up today it’ll have to be our old fake one which is currently in the outhouse but if you want a real one you’ll have to wait for at least another week. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”
“Very,” Bill stood and pushed back his chair, “Meanwhile I must get to work as it’s bound to be another busy day in the supermarket.”
As a compromise it was finally decided to put up the artificial tree in the dining room and then a week later to have a real tree for the sitting room; the girls were happy with that and so spent the morning dressing the tree which they stood on an upturned box and placed near to the dining room window.
At lunch time, as Sandra and the three children ate omelettes, Zac’s phone beeped.
“Message from Em,” he said, “she’s offered to take me up to Pentrillick House to visit the Christmas Wonderland this afternoon and wonders if you girls would like to go too.”
“Yes, please,” gushed Kate, “then I can do a bit of Christmas shopping.”
Vicki agreed.
Sandra reached for her handbag and gave the girls each a twenty pound note. “You’ll love it. It’s really Christmassy. I went up the other day with Grandma and Auntie Hetty while you were at school.”
Amongst the items purchased by Vicki was a large bunch of mistletoe.
“Where are you going to put that?” Kate giggled.
“You’ll see.”
When they arrived home Vicki hung the mistletoe from a hook over the front door.
Kate frowned. “That’s a daft place to put it unless you’re hoping to steal a kiss from the postman.”
Vicki looked smug. “Well I was thinking that maybe the vicar might call on his parishioners over the festive season.”
In the evening it seemed the entire village was out to see the Christmas lights switched on. Among the large group of people which included members of the church choir were Hetty, Lottie and their family and friends; they all assembled outside the Pentrillick Hotel and then walked along the main street towards the Crown and Anchor, singing Christmas carols. When they reached the pub, Vicar Sam said a few words and then switched on the lights which were greeted by a chorus of oohs and aahs from the delighted crowd.
Afterwards many people went into the pub where waitresses handed out complimentary mince pies and glasses of mulled wine. Zac worked at the bar alongside Tess, Alison and Ashley. There was not a seat to be had and there was very little room for standing.
In the games area, Kyle was playing pool with Douglas watched by Kate, Vicki and Emma.
“Ding Dong Douglas is quite good,” Kate watched in awe as he potted three balls in succession.
Vicki sighed. “Yes, he is. Pity he’s not female.”
As she spoke, Jackie passed by on her way back from the Ladies and heard what was said. “Anyone fancy giving me a game of pool?”
“Yeah, probably one of Zac’s sisters,” chortled Kyle.
Jackie looked at the twins. “Are you good players then?”
Kate laughed. “No way, we’re rubbish.”
“Oh,” Jackie turned towards the lads. “So which one of you is the best player?”
Kyle pointed to Douglas and Douglas pointed to Kyle.
Jackie shook her head. “Which one do you reckon is the best?” She asked Emma.
“Tricky one but I reckon Kyle has the edge and he is the team captain.”
“Really! Right, Captain Kyle, I’ll give you a game then.” Jackie selected a cue from the rack.
“You’re on.” As Kyle prepared the balls he suddenly felt nervous for there was a smug expression on Jackie’s face and he noticed the twins edging their stools nearer to the table. Kyle’s apprehension was justified; Jackie was a champion player in her home town and when play began she potted all the balls without Kyle getting a look in. The twins watched open mouthed. Kyle and Douglas were both speechless.
“Can’t you come and live down here?” Vicki asked, “If you did you’d be able to teach us girls how to play and then we could thrash the boys.”
“You could teach the boys how to play as well,” laughed Kyle, who was still in shock.
Jackie smiled sweetly. “I’d love to live here, I really would but it’s not that easy, is it? I mean, where would I stay and work?”
“You can get lodgings with Norman,” suggested Kate.
“But Norman lives in Dawlish, next door to me and my parents in fact.”
“I know,” said Kate, “but I heard him talking to Mum and Dad while the lights were being switched on and he said he’s seriously thinking of moving back down here seeing as this is where he was born and stuff like that.”
“So are you serious about moving down here?” Bill asked Norman, “or were you just momentarily moved by the twinkly lights and the carols, especially ‘Silent Night’?”
“I’m serious. I mean my roots are here and then there’s Aunt Alice. It appears she has no family, just me and so I ought to be here for when she gets older. After all she is Mum’s little sister and I’d make up for all the lost years,” He smiled, “and Mum’s here too now so I’d like to be able to look after her grave even if it’s tiny and in time I’d like to get a memorial stone for her.”
“Well if you do decide to make the move at least you’ll know several people here and I for one would be delighted if you did.”
“I’ll second that,” agreed Sandra, “We feel close to you because of your connection with the Old Bakehouse.”
“Thank you, that means a lot. When I get home I’ll look into it and do my sums. I’ve been with the same firm since I was a lad so I reckon I could easily take early retirement. And to be honest I’d welcome that but I don’t want to say too much yet and raise Aunt Alice’s hopes.”
After the initial rush the pub gradually quietened down and when Bill went to the bar for a round of drinks he commented on the amazing turnout.
“Yes, it’s always like this on lights switching on nights,” said Alison, “Next thing will be all the Christmas parties for various firms and organisations and between you and me I’m not looking forward to that as at present we could do with a few more waitresses.”
“Really! Would sixteen year olds be of any use?”
Alison smiled. “If you mean your twins then they’d be ideal. I mean they’re well-mannered and if they’re as efficient as Zac they’d be most welcome.”
“I’ll mention it to them then. It’s about time they did a bit of work for their living.”
“Well if they’re interested send them round in the morning. If they come at the same time as Zac we can have a chat before we open up.”
“Well,” sighed Lottie, when they arrived back at Primrose Cottage, “tonight sort of made up for all the bad things that have happened of late. I must admit I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
“Me too and I don’t know about you but I think a nice cup of cocoa is in order and then bed.”
“Lottie stood up. “I’ll make it since you made lunch today.”
As Lottie left the room Hetty glanced towards the sideboard where Geraldine Glover’s patent leather shoes were tucked beneath and her handbag stood on top waiting for the day when they could be passed on to her daughter, Irene. They had thought of giving them to Martha but decided that reminders of her grandmother’s plight on top of her mother’s might be insensitive.
For some unknown reason Hetty felt the urge to look again at the contents of the handbag and so picked it up and tipped everything onto the coffee table. Again the old money made her feel nostalgic but handling someone’s personal belongings brought on a feeling of sadness.
Hearing Lottie close the microwave door, Hetty quickly prepared to return the items to the bag; as she did so her fingers felt an unidentified object tucked beneath the
lining. She looked for a hole where something might have slipped but the seams were all intact. To examine the lining further she put on her reading glasses and looked again at the seams. Down one side the stiches had clearly been sown by hand. Hetty took a pair of nail scissors from her own handbag and carefully snipped at the stitches. Inside the lining was a small card. A Christmas card with a robin and a heart shaped holly wreath on the front. Hetty opened it up. Inside was a small black and white photograph of Joe along with a simple message. To the love of my life. A union forbidden now but perhaps in another world we’ll be together forever. Happy Christmas my darling, Geraldine. Love and kisses always, Joe. xxxxxxx
Chapter Twenty-Three
On Sunday morning after church, Kitty informed Hetty and Lottie that the police case regarding the death of Geraldine Glover was closed and so in the afternoon following a trip into Helston for groceries, the sisters took a detour through Porthleven on the way home for they were keen to see Norman’s Aunt Alice to make sure that she was well and not feeling depressed having blackened her sister’s name. They found her outside her cottage, standing on a chair, singing ‘Deck the Hall with Boughs of Holly’ as she cleaned the downstairs windows.
“Oh, hello,” she said, as they opened her gate and stepped onto her garden path.
“We’ve just been into Helston,” Hetty informed her, “and thought we’d pop in to see you while we had the car out to make sure you’re okay. I hope it’s not inconvenient.”
Alice jumped down from the chair. “No, not at all. It’s always nice to have visitors as I don’t get out as much since my husband died.”
Alice picked up the chair and carried it into her kitchen. Hetty and Lottie followed.
“Tea?” Alice asked.
“Only if you you’re having one,” said Lottie.
“Well, actually that was my intention. I told myself I couldn’t have a cuppa until I’d cleaned the downstairs windows. So I thought I better do it.”
After the tea was made they all filed into the small sitting room where Hetty and Lottie sat on the couch and Alice sat in her favourite fireside chair.
“We’re very proud of you for telling the police about Eve,” said Hetty, “It was a courageous thing to have done and it’s enabled them to close the case.”
“Yes, maybe. It’s certainly eased my conscience. Anyway, say no more about Eve’s doings and tell me instead, is there any more news about the attempt on that poor lady’s life?”
“Sadly not,” conceded Hetty, “the police are convinced Irene Hewitt did it and have charged her so they won’t be looking for anyone else.”
“Well, from what Norman’s told me the evidence against her seems pretty strong and so I can’t say that I blame them.”
Hetty shook her head. “No, I mean yes, we agree about the damning evidence but at the same time we think there’s more to it than that. It’s just too simple. What’s more we really liked Irene.”
“Her husband and daughter are very nice too,” Lottie added, “and they’re both terribly upset.”
“I don’t doubt Irene is a nice person: after all we now know that she is definitely Joe’s daughter and as I’ve said before, I liked Joe.”
“What about Geraldine Glover, Irene’s mother? Did you know her at all? If she died in 1958 you would have been eighteen then.”
“You’re quite right, I was eighteen and I did know her. That’s to say I knew who she was and I daresay we’d have passed the time of day had we met in the street but she was quite a bit older than me and so there was nothing to unite us.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Have you seen Norman lately?” Hetty suddenly asked.
“Yes, he was here a couple of days ago. Why?”
“Did he tell you about the messages sent to all the people who should receive money from Joe’s estate?”
Alice smiled. “Yes, he did. What do you make of it?”
“Well, having given it a lot of thought I’m inclined to believe it was someone in the village who did it for a joke,” Hetty admitted.
Lottie nodded. “I agree and I think the police do too.”
“Really! You don’t think it was one of the party trying to frighten off the others then?”
“Well, if it was,” laughed Hetty, “it didn’t work because they’re all still here having stayed to reach the deadline.”
“Hmm, I suppose you’re right.”
“Which of course was at midnight the night before last, so hopefully now everything will return to normal.” Hetty finished her tea and put the empty mug on the floor.
“So how many people came forward hoping for a share of Joe’s money?” Alice asked.
Hetty shrugged her shoulders. “We don’t know for sure but rumour has it that dozens took the DNA test and many were negative so it looks like it’ll be a clean six way split.”
“Six!” spluttered Alice, “How can it be that many? I’m sure Norman only mentioned five.”
“No, definitely six,” Lottie counted on her fingers, “There’s Norman of course and then Biddy Barnes, Irene Hewitt, Jim Bray and the twins Larry and Harry whose surnames I can’t remember.”
“Me neither,” Hetty added.
Alice sniffed. “Ah, yes, the twins of course. For some reason I’d counted them as one.”
After chatting for an hour or more the sisters said they ought to be getting back as it would soon be dark and they had left washing on the line.
“Do you mind if I use your loo before we go?” Hetty asked, as she stood and stretched her arms, “Having had a cup of tea I might be cutting it a bit fine if I wait ‘til we get home.”
Alice laughed. “You have my sympathy, dear. The bathroom’s upstairs second door on the left.”
“Thank you, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Before Hetty went into the bathroom, she paused outside the first door on the left. It was slightly ajar and so she peeked into the room. It was neat, tidy, very quaint and obviously Alice’s bedroom. Next to it was the bathroom and the only other door was closed. Determined to peek in there too, Hetty tiptoed across the landing and opened the door. To her horror it squeaked. Nevertheless, hopeful that Alice and Lottie were still chatting and so had not heard she peeked around the door. Against the opposite wall was a dressing table and a large mirror. Make-up lay in trays on the surface of the table along with several pairs of spectacles. A pair of dark coloured trousers and a light jacket were draped over the back of a chair and on a shelf several dummy heads were donned with wigs in varying shades and styles. Hetty chuckled to herself as she went into the bathroom. “Looks like Alice likes to go out in disguise sometimes.” As she flushed the toilet, the penny dropped. Hetty quickly washed her hands; as she reached for the towel she saw a pair of flashy white trainers with blue squiggles on the side tucked beneath a stool. With her heart in her mouth she descended the stairs and cautiously opened the sitting room door. She froze. Alice stood behind the couch where Lottie sat, her hands and feet bound with sticky tape. A large kitchen knife lay on the back of the couch and in her hands Alice firmly held the two ends of Lottie’s scarf.
“You had to have a look, didn’t you?” Alice’s once gentle voice was now aggressive. “I knew you were nosy the moment I first set eyes on you.”
“We heard the door squeak, Het.”
“Shut up.” Alice pulled the ends of the scarf tighter round Lottie’s neck.
“But…but you can’t have tried to kill Biddy. I mean, you’re seventy eight so much too old.”
Alice threw back her head and laughed. “Old I may be but unfit I am not. You see, when I realised we couldn’t have children I took up running. I’ve run dozens of marathons over the years and have the heart of someone fifty years my junior.” She looked at the door, “So don’t bother running away because I’ll catch you if you do.”
“But, but why did you do it?” Hetty asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Alice hissed, “That money belongs to Norman. Okay,
I know Bridget, Biddy or whatever she calls herself was his firstborn but Joe gave her away. He didn’t want her. And as for Geraldine’s girl, Joe didn’t even know she was his. I reasoned by getting shot of Bridget I could get rid of Irene as well. Two for the price of one. Pretty good going I reckon.”
“Humph,” grunted Hetty, “But you seem to have forgotten that Biddy is on the mend and because Irene is innocent she’ll soon be released. I happen to believe in British justice.”
“Well more fool you,” cackled Alice, “The evidence against her is pretty rock solid. It’s a pity they did away with hanging though. As for Biddy perhaps I’ll try again. I’d like to dispose of Barry and Harry too but I saw them the other day and they look big strong lads so I suppose they’ll have to stay.”
“Larry and Harry not Barry and Harry,” corrected Lottie.
“Yes, and then there’s Jim Bray,” Hetty reminded her.
Alice shuddered. “I’m not messing with him either. I’ve seen his mother, she’s a whopper.”
From inside Hetty’s handbag sounded the ring tone of her mobile phone. Her eyes darted towards it.
“Leave it.” Alice picked up the knife.
“But if I don’t answer it whoever is ringing might be concerned.”
“No, they’ll think it’s not a convenient time for you to answer which of course it isn’t.” Alice laughed.
“But…”
“Come and sit down here beside your sister or my hands might slip.” She put the knife between her teeth and pulled the scarf tighter round Lottie’s neck as if to prove she wasn’t bluffing. Hetty sat down and clasped her sister’s taped hands. Alice stepped out from behind the couch, picked up the sticky tape and knelt in order to wind it around Hetty’s wrists. The knife she placed on the floor by her feet. “Put your hands together as though in prayer and hold them out in front of you.”
Fearing for her sister’s life, Hetty did as she was ordered. When both sisters were bound, Alice stood up.
The Old Bakehouse Page 18
