‘Yes, I think … But … It’s … I don’t understand why …!’
‘So stupid of us,’ said Bea. ‘The food poisoning has thrown me completely. Boy, was I ill! Though not as bad as Leon, of course. The police were asking where we’d been but we didn’t want to put you in the frame if Leon survives so, trust me, your name wasn’t mentioned. But when I pulled myself together, I realized we must have abandoned our bits and pieces here and, well, that’s rather inconvenient, isn’t it? So I got hold of Piers and he came to my rescue, found me some clothes and said he’d come with me. My bag’s the main thing; a sweet little thing, on a chain, silk with a rose on it, and it matches my shoes, which I must have left here, too? I’m not usually so careless, but I can’t get back into my home till I’ve got my keys, can I!’
Bea could see the woman processing this information. Slowly, thinking it through, Lady Payne said, ‘I don’t think we’ve found anything—’
‘And my mobile phone, too! Can you believe how absurd? Now, where was I last? Downstairs, I think. That’s right, isn’t it? You took me downstairs to give me a cold drink, which was so kind of you … although there must have been something in that made me ill? Or something I ate? Perhaps it was the Prosecco? You really ought to be more careful who you get to do your catering. If Leon dies, I expect his family will be suing the socks off you. Such a shame for him to be ill when we’ve just got engaged.’
‘Engaged?’ That hit Lady Payne hard, because it made a nonsense of their story that Leon had been pawing an under-aged girl. Or did it? She made a quick recovery. ‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll be all right. Now, if you’ll come back in the morning—’
‘I can’t, can I? Not without my keys. Now, Piers, there’s a love. Go downstairs and see if you can find my things for me.’
‘No!’ Lady Payne was sharp. Then she made herself smile. ‘What I mean is, that I’ll go. My sister’s down there, she’s not well, she goes to sleep early. I wouldn’t want her disturbed at this time of night.’ She shot a look back up the stairs where, yes, a shadowy figure darted out of sight. The Admiral didn’t want to get caught up in this, did he? Someone above, a long way above, called down, ‘Is everything all right?’ A young man’s voice?
Not the Admiral? One of the young men? Oh. That was bad news.
Lady Payne called back, ‘It’s nothing. A guest who thinks she’s left some of her belongings here. I’ll deal with it.’ And to Bea, with what could pass for a smile, ‘Suppose I go downstairs quietly, so as not to disturb my sister, and have a look around while you wait outside?’
‘No, no,’ said Bea, flinging open the door to the sitting room and turning on the lights. ‘It’s cold outside. Did I have a coat with me when I arrived? No, I don’t think so. It was such a fine evening. I’ll wait here for you, shall I?’ She sank into an easy chair.
Piers was rubbing his hands. ‘I’ll come down with you, shall I, Lady Payne? I know what Bea’s things look like. It’s the pale gold sandals is it, Bea? Or the grey slippers?’
‘Cream sandals, darling. And the bag is the one you gave me last Christmas. The one with a silk rose on it, remember?’
He ticked items off on his fingers. ‘Shoes. Watch. Bag. Phone. Keys …’
‘Makeup,’ said Bea, running her fingers through her hair. ‘Oh dear, what a sight I look.’
‘No need for you to come with me,’ said Lady Payne, blocking the doorway as Piers started for it. ‘We wouldn’t want to scare my sister by introducing a strange man into her bedroom.’
‘True.’ Piers strolled around the room till he stopped before a portrait on the wall. ‘Is that an early Lenkiewicz? Worth something, nowadays. Shall I poke around on the ground floor, then? Bea, didn’t you say that Leon left his wallet, phone and keys here as well? What about his shoes? Have they gone missing, too?’
‘No! Stay here!’ With force. Lady Payne’s colour had risen. She was very angry. Perhaps she hadn’t realized how light-fingered her assistants had been? ‘Ah, here’s my husband. He’ll stay with you while I investigate. Not that I think for a minute that I’ll find your things here.’
Admiral Payne was also wearing a purple dressing gown, but he’d taken care to brush his mane of silver hair before descending to join the fray. ‘What? What? What’s going on? Who are you two, and what are you doing in my house at this time of night?’
‘Looking for lost property,’ said Bea. ‘Lovely party this evening, Admiral. Shame about the food poisoning. Leon’s very ill with it, you know. I’m afraid we left in rather a hurry and forgot to take all our belongings with us. Your dear wife is going to find them for me, and then we’ll be off.’
Lady Payne sent her husband a meaningful look and dis-appeared. The Admiral shot his cuff to look at his watch. ‘I don’t think I know either of you, do I? Did you gate-crash the party earlier?’
‘Piers, portrait painter,’ said Bea. ‘Bea Abbot, neighbour. Invited with Sir Leon Holland.’
Piers extended his hand with a smile. ‘Delighted to meet you, sir. I believe you asked me to paint you some time ago, but I was in the middle of preparing for an exhibition and had no time to spare. We must discuss it again some time.’
‘What?’ Thin lines of red veined his cheeks. Was he, perhaps, not quite as sharp as he used to be? Or had he never been all that intelligent? ‘I don’t remember your name being on the list—’
‘I expect your secretary issued the invitation,’ said Bea. ‘Or your wife, perhaps? Wanting to be on good terms with your neighbours?’ She almost missed the look of calculation that slid behind his eyes. She decided that, appearances to the contrary, he was fully aware of what had been going on, though perhaps he was not as quick on the uptake as his wife … who now powered back into the room, bearing a pair of cream, medium-heel sandals.
‘This is all I can find. There’s no bag down there. It was really careless of you to leave your things around although, I suppose, under the circumstances … And now I really must ask you to leave.’
‘Oh, many thanks,’ said Bea. ‘They’re my favourites and almost new. Now about the purse—’
‘No purse.’
Bea smiled. ‘I expect one of the youngsters found it and put it somewhere safe. Perhaps you could ask them.’
‘They’re out. Clubbing. Won’t be back till dawn.’
‘Then perhaps you’ll give them a ring? They’ll have their smartphones with them, won’t they? And they can tell you where they’ve put it.’
The Admiral and his wife stilled for a moment, but as usual she took the initiative.
‘Are you trying to suggest that one of our grandchildren might have stolen—?’
‘Not at all. How could you even think such a thing! But I am suggesting that my bag may have become … misplaced. Let’s say that one of them – your granddaughter, perhaps? – thought my watch pretty enough to try on and somehow or other she forgot to return it to me. And that my purse was thrown around the room like a tennis ball. By a young man. Or, perhaps, two young men? While I was incapacitated.’
There were red patches on Lady Payne’s cheeks. ‘You are mistaken, madam. And I think we have been kindness itself in allowing you into our house at this time of night, and finding the shoes which you so carelessly shed when you were here earlier. Food poisoning? What nonsense. I saw for myself that you had been drinking before you ever arrived, and shortly afterwards I came across you laid out in a chair downstairs. Snoring. Drunk as a skunk!’
Bea said, in her smoothest tones, ‘That’s not what the hospital said. They breathalysed me to make sure.’
Silence. The woman’s mouth worked while she tried to think how to get round this unpleasant fact. ‘No doubt you staggered out while my back was turned, and have abandoned your property in the street, where it has been picked up by some homeless beggar. And now, I think it is more than time that you left.’
Piers, hands in pockets, leaned his shoulder against the fireplace. ‘Ah, I see it’s not a genuine Lenkiewicz, now I look m
ore closely. Someone’s sold you a pup, Admiral. And, late as it is, we really think you ought to make more of an effort to find Bea’s things.’
‘You see,’ said Bea, smiling brilliantly, ‘I can’t get back into my house without my keys.’
The Admiral’s eyes widened, and his lady became very still. Bea could see them wondering, suspecting, coming to the delightful conclusion that Bea didn’t know her house had been torched that night!
‘So,’ said Bea, ‘if you will just ask the youngsters where they’ve put my things, we’ll be on our way.’
Admiral Payne said, ‘As my wife told you, they’re out, and I don’t know when they’ll be back.’
‘In that case,’ said Piers, ‘we’d better all go upstairs and have a look around for the stuff.’
Lady Payne jerked. ‘How dare you! I’m going to call the police, if you’re not out of here in five minutes.’
Bea smiled. ‘A good idea. The police can help us search for my bits and pieces.’
Checkmate. The woman knew it, too.
A stir in the doorway to the hall. One of the youngsters? No, it was an over-thin teenage boy, wearing ill-fitting glasses, boxer shorts, a creased, cheap T-shirt, trainers, and the sort of expression that made Bea think he was accustomed to dodging fists. He looked very different from the self-assured young men who’d been so raucous out in the garden earlier that evening. Much younger than them, for a start. A poor relation?
His appearance altered the balance of power. It had been two against two. Now it was three against two.
‘Rollo?’ Lady Payne, not pleased. ‘What are you doing down here?’
‘Th-thing is,’ Rollo pushed his glasses back up his nose. ‘S-someone’s in the garden.’
Lady Payne said, ‘Rats, probably.’
‘N-not with a torch. Would they?’
Bea refrained from pressing a hand to her heart. With difficulty. The lad had seen Hari searching the garden? What to do? Bluster, or retire? Or, perhaps …? She shook her head. ‘With the wall down, you can’t tell one garden from t’other at the moment – and what a to-do that’s going to be to sort out.’
Lady Payne’s mouth worked. She shot a keen glance at her husband, and then rounded on the boy. ‘Yes, of course, that’s it. Don’t be so stupid, Rollo.’
‘I’m not s-stupid.’ A note of defiance in his voice. ‘I heard what my c-cousins were s-saying and I s-said it wasn’t right to lift other people’s th-things, and Venetia went off c-clubbing wearing the watch she s-said she’d b-borrowed but I bet she didn’t have permission—’
Lady Payne gasped, and her husband said, ‘What, what!’
Bea paid attention, fast.
‘—and I may be younger than them and not allowed to go c-clubbing yet, and I get that, but it’s not right that they should t-take my iPad to play with and b-break it, and then laugh—’
He held out a shoebox. No lid.
‘—so I collected all the stuff they left lying on her bed and I was going to give it to you in the morning, but then these people came and I heard them say they’d come for their things, so here they are.’
Lady Payne made as if to take the box off him, but Piers was quicker and snatched it from the lad. ‘Thank you, Rollo. That’s very good news. Here you are, Bea; your little bag … keys … mobile phone and cards. And are these Leon’s?’
A man’s wallet. Leon’s? Another phone, and a second bunch of keys. One bunch of keys and one smartphone looks very much like another, but Bea had given Leon the angel tag which adorned the bunch of keys, and the smartphone cover with another angel on it. These items definitely belonged to Leon.
‘Yes, those are Leon’s,’ said Bea, heart banging away. ‘I’ll see that he gets them back.’
Now, could they get away before anybody else arrived? If the youngsters who’d gone clubbing returned now, there might be some unpleasantness … to put it mildly.
She said, ‘I’m truly grateful, Rollo. Now, Lady Payne, as you say, it’s getting late and we’d all like to be tucked up in bed, don’t you think? With a few prayers that Leon is going to make it. As my watch appears to have been borrowed by your granddaughter, perhaps you’d get her to return it to me tomorrow, to avoid any further unpleasantness. Also Leon’s shoes.’
She moved to the door, which Piers held open for her.
‘What? You’re going?’ The Admiral, looking to his wife for instructions.
Lady Payne appeared to be concealing amusement. No doubt she was thinking Bea had a nasty surprise waiting for her at home. ‘Yes, yes. So glad it all ended well. I’ll send my granddaughter over with your watch tomorrow. Naughty girl. What are the young coming to nowadays!’
Piers opened the front door and they descended into the night air. As they walked away, they heard keys turn in locks and a bolt shot home.
Piers said, ‘Bolting the door, while the young ones are still out? I suppose they get in through the basement flat when they condescend to return. Or are they used to staying out all night?’
‘I don’t know and I don’t care,’ said Bea, clutching her arms around herself. ‘I’m cold and miserable and … and I’m not going to lie down and cry, but … has Hari got away safely, do you think?’
A shadow drifted up the area steps and joined them. Hari was carrying a large plastic bag from which came the unmistakeable whiff of paraffin. ‘The old dear’s still snoring in the basement. I followed my nose around the garden. Nothing. Nada. Only tree. Then I waited downstairs till I heard you were safely out of the way and almost fell over the wheelie-bins they keep in the area outside the sleeper’s bedroom. And there it was, next to today’s newspapers. So I took a couple of photographs and, wearing gloves, put both newspaper and four-litre can in a convenient plastic bag. Hopefully, the arsonist left his prints on the can somewhere. Now, would you like to sleep in your own bed tonight, Mrs A?’
Her knees gave way and she caught at the railings of the nearest house.
Leon!
Piers put his arm around her. ‘Hold up! You’ve done brilliantly so far. Come home with me. I promise not to molest you.’
She tried to smile. ‘Thanks, but no thanks. I ought to be with Leon, but I’m so tired I can’t think straight. Hari, I know you can probably get me back into my own house, but without electricity … and oh, what am I going to do on Monday? The girls will be arriving at the agency and … Winston! My cat! How could I have forgotten him?’
‘Electricity and water’s off, but it’s no great problem. It’s a warm night,’ said Hari. ‘We have torches. Maybe you keep a candle or two for emergencies? I’ll sleep downstairs, see you’re not disturbed.’
Piers was on his phone. ‘Checking the hospital …’ He moved away, talking into his phone, asking after Leon.
Hari said, ‘Mrs A, you need to rest. Shall I get Anna to come and look after you? She’ll come like a shot, if she knows you’re in trouble.’
Bea slid down the railings and ended up sitting on the pavement.
I look like a drunk. I feel like a drunk. Disorientated. If Leon dies … dear Lord above! I haven’t exactly been myself, have I? I forgot to ask you for help. For advice. I’m asking now. I’m praying, please save Leon … at least, I know I ought to be praying that your will be done, but … please, please! Look after Leon.
Hari knelt beside her. He put his arm around her. He was warm and comforting. She let herself relax, thinking that just for a moment she could stop being the one in charge.
Piers walked back, holding out his mobile. ‘They wouldn’t give me any information. You speak to them, Bea. They know you’re his fiancée.’
Bea spoke and received reassuring words. No change. Leon’s vital signs were OK. Breathing, heart, all OK. He would wake when he was ready to do so.
She returned the phone to Piers. ‘No change.’
Hari eased her to her feet. ‘Come along, now. Let’s go and look for Winston.’
He seemed to think this was the right thing to do, so she let him
drape one of her arms around his neck, to help her along the pavement. Piers took her free arm.
She stumbled and they held her up. She said, ‘Winston ought to be all right. He’s got more than nine lives, you know. I mean, he flew into the house when the tree came crashing down. Through my legs, nearly had me over. When he’s frightened, he gets into the stationery cupboard. He claws the door open and gets in, and it shuts automatically behind him. The fire won’t have got that far, will it? No, of course it won’t. And as for the water the firemen have pumped in, he’d have jumped up on to something out of the way, wouldn’t he? I mean, he wouldn’t have drowned. No, of course he wouldn’t.’
‘No, of course he wouldn’t.’
They turned into her street. Two men, supporting a drunken woman home.
Home was looking all right, if you hadn’t seen the sheet of ply nailed over the front door. Access denied. Enter at your peril.
SEVEN
‘Can you hold her for the moment?’ That was Hari, handing her over to Piers. Bea staggered but remained upright, more or less. She was so tired …
Wrench, wrench. Squeal of nails. Her poor door. Her poor, poor door …
‘In we go. Mind the step. Yes, it’s dark. Piers, take my torch.’ A beam of light illuminated the hallway. The furniture was still there. Her coats still hung on the rack behind the door but everything was covered with a layer of … grit? The air was damp. She inhaled the scent of a bonfire. Everything stank.
Something attacked her shin, and she yelped. Something yowled.
Piers angled the torch beam down. An indignant, furry monster butted her leg.
‘Winston!’ She scooped him up into her arms. He smelled of smoke. ‘Oh, Winston! I thought you were dead!’
‘He’s hungry, I expect,’ said Piers. ‘If I remember rightly, he has a habit of tripping people up when he wants to be fed.’
Bea closed her eyes and opened them again. The lamps in the street outside sent a weak light through the transom over the front door. The doors to the sitting room and to the kitchen were open, and more light came in that way because she hadn’t drawn the curtains before she left for the party. Long ago and in another life. Making her way along the hall, she saw that the door leading down the stairs to the agency rooms had been levered open. It was normally kept locked, but presumably the firemen had had to get it open, to access the blaze in the rooms below. Oh well. Don’t think about that now.
False Wall Page 8
