by Ali Carter
‘I didn’t need to as he was complaining that he’d spent all morning clearing up the bar from the night before.’
‘Do you think he always clears up the next day?’
‘I wouldn’t think so. I’ve heard that most landlords like to get the bulk of the work done the night before as they have to stock up and get the lunches and so forth the next morning. But the Greengrasses’ butler, according to Ronnie, had been in the pub boozing heavily on Saturday night and it had been a struggle to get him to leave. By the time he managed it was very late, and so Ronnie went straight home and left the mess to deal with on Sunday morning.’
‘Is he a drinker?’
‘Is Ronnie a drinker?’ Antonia repeated ironically. ‘He keeps a glass of whisky behind the bar. I’m sure the ice in it is the only way any water passes his lips. He’s one of those old-time soaks who holds it together well.’
‘My Great Uncle Stephen was like that, although the large red crustacean in the centre of his face gave it away. His nose was consumed by booze years before I was born.’
It was time for me to go, and Antonia held the kitchen door open for me as I went through into the cold porch and tiptoed my way around the boots and scattered shoes.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ she said. ‘We are always in a rush when we come through this little part of the house, either taking kit off and longing to get warm in the kitchen, or putting kit on desperate to be out in the fresh air. Let me open the door, it gets so stiff at this time of year with the wet weather.’
Antonia pulled hard on the handle and the whole thing almost toppled her over as it flung open. I patted Situp who was following us out.
‘Bye, Susie, keep in touch, and do let me know if there’s anything at all I can do for Diana.’ Antonia waved with one hand as she held Situp’s collar with the other.
I disappeared through the hedge, hurrying to the car in the hopes of having enough time to telephone Sarah Hember before Diana expected me for lunch.
A fog was building on the windscreen as I held the telephone to my ear, nervously waiting for an answer.
‘Hello,’ said a meek-sounding voice.
‘Good morning, Mrs Hember. My name’s Susie Mahl. I am a friend of the Greengrasses and wanted to get in touch with you.’
The voice at the other end of the telephone took on a high-pitched panicky timbre. ‘Oh Miss Mahl, I haven’t known what to do. I saw the news and have been feeling so incredibly guilty that Lord Greengrass and I had our secret.’
She’d started crying, I could tell by the muffling sound of her putting a hand against the mouthpiece. Knowing how useless I am on the telephone I decided to chance my luck in the hope she lived near by.
‘I’m in Spire village and wondered if I could come and see you?’ My fingers on both hands were tightly crossed.
‘Yes, I’m at home.’ She snuffled down the line. ‘I live in a farm cottage not far out of the village, past the church. Second turning on the left, Pinclanty Cottage.’
‘Great. I’ll be with you in five minutes.’
I hung up, hardly believing Mrs Hember could possibly live so close. Then I hoped my nosying around wasn’t about to land me in any sort of trouble. Judging by the tears Mrs Hember wasn’t feeling at all happy.
Could Alexander really have been having an affair? Surely he was too old for that? But then again, I really hope the zest of life doesn’t leave us just because we’re in our seventies. And Alexander did have a glint in his eye. Even Diana had said so, when she’d recognised a similar look in Henry; and Alexander had kept his financial affairs private from his family.
I knew deep down that Diana was someone who preferred to be on her own, and that she didn’t really like other people’s company. It wasn’t inconceivable that in response to this Lord Greengrass could have been keeping two women at the same time without anyone knowing. I had liked him too much to believe he’d strayed, but I reminded myself that I shouldn’t be too idealistic or naïve.
Given the close proximity of Sarah Hember’s home, Diana may well never have noticed if her husband had disappeared for an hour or two in the day.
Pinclanty Cottage came into view, its sign swinging in the breeze. I turned into the drive and before I even got out of the car I could hear a pack of howling dogs crying out. The door to the pebble-dashed, rather ugly house opened and there stood a short woman who looked like she’d just returned from the hairdresser.
‘Hello, Mrs Hember, I’m Susie,’ I said as I walked up the path between two lawns trimmed like a doily round the edges.
She had gone back inside and I trailed along behind, closing the door after me. The house was hot and full of china animal figurines. Three cats prowled around the landing, but the overriding smell was one of dog.
‘Please, call me Sarah,’ she said as I followed her into the kitchen.
‘Thank you for letting me turn up out of the blue.’
Without a word, Sarah turned towards me, and her watery eyes looked fearful as she shoved a crumpled envelope in my direction. I had no option but to take it.
‘Is this for me?’
‘It’s the cash,’ she mumbled, lips quivering. ‘I wasn’t going to keep it, honest I wasn’t.’
‘Don’t worry, Sarah.’ I looked at her in what I hoped was a sympathetic manner. ‘I’m not here for this.’ I flapped the envelope in my hand as if I knew what it was for. ‘I just wanted to make sure you are okay, and to get to the bottom of your meeting with Lord Greengrass. If you can tell me why it was that you met him on Saturday night, then I promise I won’t breathe a word to the family if you don’t want me to.’
My conscience was clear in making such a pledge as I knew that I could tell whatever I was about to discover to the police if needs be.
‘Lord Greengrass was buying one of my purebred cocker spaniel puppies. It was going to be a surprise for his wife.’
I hadn’t expected this, and I wanted to believe her. ‘Why did you meet in the Dorset Horn?’
‘It was a secret. He didn’t want Lady Greengrass to know and he knew she’d never look for him in the pub.’
‘I see. This all makes sense now.’
It then upset me how unfair it was that the one present from Alexander Diana would likely have loved was now never going to reach her.
Sarah’s voice was still wobbly as she explained. ‘He paid cash in advance. The puppies are ready to leave their mother this week, but I’ll find it another home.’
‘May I see it?’
I wanted to confirm that she was telling the truth. Sarah was just a little bit younger than Diana, and definitely more attractive, and so I still felt slightly sceptical.
‘Of course,’ she said, seemingly very happy that I’d asked. ‘They’re out the back.’
We went through the kitchen and out to a small patio housing kennels.
‘My goodness, you have a lot of dogs.’
‘I love dogs, Susie. Always have. They’re my companions.’
She unbolted a stable door and we both stepped in onto a bed of straw. Lying curved into the corner was an exhausted-looking bitch with four sweet puppies suckling.
‘I’ve nicknamed him Secondo,’ said Sarah. ‘He’s the one with the wagging tail. Pick him up if you like.’
I bent down and took the hungry puppy away from his mother. ‘He’s adorable.’ I’m not normally a huge one for baby animals, but he was very cute.
‘Lord Greengrass chose him.’
The puppies all looked identical to me, but the fact Alexander had chosen one especially for Diana made me wish I could give it to her.
‘Would you mind if I did a drawing of him? I’m a pet-portraitist and don’t often get the chance to draw such little bundles.’
Even I was surprised at what I’d just said.
Sarah looked a little nervous again. ‘I’ve got someone coming at one o’clock, but if you’re quick then yes, of course.’
‘Thank you so much. I won’t take a second.’
I put Secondo down on the straw and took my sketchbook out of my bag. He started hopping around like a bucking bronco, which made us both laugh.
It’s fun drawing something that moves as there is never a long enough period of calm to struggle over the detail. You just have to get it down on paper as quickly as you possibly can. Secondo’s behind was bopping in the air and I exaggerated his movement with several poses drawn one on top of the other, producing a messy though decipherable animation of the scene.
‘My goodness that was quick,’ said Sarah, even though she was curiously – I thought – uninterested in the actual finished picture.
Lickety-split we were back in the kitchen, Sarah convincing me I should take the money.
‘I’ll give it to Lady Greengrass as soon as I get back to the Manor, but do you think there’s any chance you can hold off finding Secondo another home until next week?’
‘Why?’ asked Sarah, surprisingly abruptly.
‘I think Lady Greengrass might still like to buy him, once things have settled.’
Sarah sounded dubious. ‘Well, we’ll have to see. I don’t like my babies going to a broken home. They need love, comfort and stability. Dogs are very intuitive and a recent death in the family could be upsetting for them.’
‘I completely understand. But I know Lady Greengrass would make an adoring owner, and of course she would have all the more time for her puppy now her husband is no longer with her.’
I promised to ring her either way within the week, and so without even touching on the fact that Alexander had actually been murdered, we were on the doorstep saying goodbye and as my keys turned in the ignition the dogs on cue started to howl.
As I drove away I wondered about Shepherd’s version of events. Surely he must have recognised Sarah Hember and known about her dog breeding. If so, he should have been able to work it out for himself that Alexander was most likely buying a puppy.
I headed up Beckenstale Manor’s drive which winds itself through the park before getting to the grand house.
It was only once I’d reached the yard and was parking my car that I realised I’d forgotten to take Henry’s blasted bag from Antonia’s kitchen table. Drat. But there was no time to turn around as it was only three minutes before one o’clock.
Now that I’d conquered the Post-it note, Toby was on my mind. The puppy revelation seemed a perfect excuse to be in touch. Even though I risked being late for lunch, and upsetting Diana, I reached for my mobile, and typed:
Sarah Hember innocent. Selling
Lord Greengrass a puppy. Thanks for lunch.
I paused as I wondered how to sign off. Sigh.
Then I typed Susie and pressed send before I could change it to anything else.
It’s very difficult in the casual spirit of modern communication to know how to end a correspondence. None of us truthfully like to use the expression ‘Best wishes’, but it – or ‘Best’ – fits the gap when ‘Yours sincerely’ is too formal, ‘From’ too childish, ‘Love’ too much and ‘x’, or even ‘X’, can’t be sent before the other person has sent you one first.
I have a Russian friend who tells a story of when she first came to work in London. At the top of her profession in conglomerate social marketing, she’s a feisty, level-headed woman who travels the world to give seminars to vast audiences of hungry venture capitalists. All this capability is hidden behind a beautiful, elegant, urbane girl who mistook the ‘x’ at the end of an email as a British symbol for signing off. After a week in her new London job with 300 emails sent to the great and the good, Julia was called into the Chief Executive’s office where, without her being offered a seat, her boss boomed, ‘How you converse out of work, madam, is entirely up to you, but never again in your senior role within this company let me or any client receive an email from you with kisses at the end. It’s unprofessional and downright disrespectful.’
Gulp. My poor friend! There are few things worse than being misunderstood to such an extent you are left without the slightest bit of hope of explaining yourself.
My phone buzzed with a message.
Good work Pet Detective. Toby x
I liked ‘Pet Detective’.
Very clever, Toby.
I didn’t allow myself to think the kiss meant anything special, but it did put a spring in my step as I hurried from my car in search of Diana.
‘Lady Greengrass is waiting for you in the conservatory,’ Mary called down to me. She was perched high up on a steep set of folding steps as she dusted the enormous chandelier hanging above the hall.
‘Thanks Mary.’
I found Diana standing in front of an electric blow-heater.
‘Hello Susie. I am so pleased you’ve come back for lunch. I don’t fancy a crowd but it’s nice having you for company.’
Good, she seemed pleased to see me, and willing to overlook my being just a little late.
I was glad that I’d put on a cardigan over my polo neck. It was polar cold in the conservatory, a room I previously thought reserved for summer dining, but alas it was now clear that the Greengrasses liked to use theirs all the year round, no matter what the weather. I tried to be positive, reminding myself that the conservatory had a lovely view out over the lake and into the park beyond, and as it was a sunny, clear day it was nice to be in such a light room.
‘Sorry about the chill,’ Diana said as she rubbed her hands together. ‘Shepherd obviously turned off the heating in here after this morning’s meeting. It shouldn’t take too long to warm up, though. Here, let’s sit together at this end of the table as it’s close to the heater.’
Diana sat down on her chair as if it were a throne. There was a sense of pride surrounding her and for a moment I felt irritated. But I tried not to let my emotions show as I re-laid our places using the cutlery that had been put at the opposite end of the table, and then placed the bowl of disappointingly cold food between us.
‘Aren’t Arthur, Asquintha and the boys joining us?’ I asked as I sat down.
‘No. They were going to, but after this morning’s discussion they changed their minds. Arthur said they wanted to spend the day with just the two of them and so he’s arranged for Nanny to take the boys out.’ Diana sounded put out.
‘Sounds like a good idea. Asquintha looked worn out this morning,’ I said mildly.
Diana’s voice didn’t soften. ‘That’s no excuse. If you ask me why neither of them are joining us, I’d say it’s Arthur not standing up to his wife who, reading between the lines, was overly sensitive to the scrutiny in this morning’s meeting.’
‘Hmm,’ I mumbled, not wanting to add anything to the conversation.
Unfortunately for me, Diana was not willing to let the subject of Asquintha drop. ‘As she doesn’t have an alibi that blasted woman has got us all in the awkward position of having to take her word for it.’
Diana put a fork mounted with goats’ cheese, red onion and lentil salad into her mouth and with hardly any time to swallow, she asked, ‘What sort of mother leaves her husband to dress and take the children to Sunday school, Susie?’
I came up with a pathetically diplomatic answer. ‘If Arthur wants to spend time with his children, then I think that’s nice.’
It upsets me when childcare is so obviously an onerous duty as far as their parents are concerned. It’s confusing why couples choose to have children if without them is the only time they feel they have ‘their life back’.
It wasn’t for me to judge as I don’t have children, but like Diana, I had wondered why Asquintha would stay at home and leave Arthur to take their boys to her choice of church, which for someone like me is an institution right at the centre of what it means to be a family.
But I could see that Diana’s negative opinion of Asquintha stemmed more from her constant struggle in accepting a middle-class daughter-in-law. As far as I could see, she never let an opportunity to criticise Asquintha slip by.
On cue, Diana added, ‘I just don’t understand
why husbands have to take an equal share in bringing up children these days. Alexander never once changed a nappy or dressed the children, and he was all the more of a gentleman for it. I despise this contemporary drive for equality of the sexes. Susie, we must celebrate the differences, that’s what I say.’
Not being a wife I wasn’t overly keen to voice my opinion on the issue as I knew that Diana only wanted me to agree with her. But I knew that I certainly wouldn’t mind marrying a man in touch with his feminine side. Changing nappies, bathing children, being able to sew and iron were all perfectly acceptable in a man, as far as I was concerned.
Diana wasn’t really paying me much attention. ‘Cross-class marriage is when it all goes wrong, as Arthur and Asquintha show. In come common values and a desire to be one of the people. If I could give you a sound piece of advice on the matter, Susie, it would be stick with your own sort.’
I had a sudden naughty urge to ask her who ‘my own sort’ might be, but I kept quiet. I knew that Diana frequently speaks without thinking, and it might seem rude to probe further.
I felt sorry for Asquintha, and I wished that Diana respected her more. It would make anyone unhappy if they felt they could never please a forceful mother-in-law when they had to live together, cheek by jowl. My fingers were crossed that Asquintha really was innocent.
There were second helpings and it was clear Diana had her appetite back.
At last there was a change of tack in the conversation. ‘Did Inspector Grey find anything particular in the study?’
‘Nothing he made a noise about although he did package up a few things.’
‘Did he really? Well, he jolly well should have asked me first. What liberties,’ Diana huffed, ‘What did he take?’
I listed the various bits and bobs, which sounded much like I was playing the party game of who can remember the most objects placed on the tray.
I’ve never liked party games. I have always driven myself to be good at things rather than to be good at winning, unless of course one led to the other. From a very young age the pleasure others got in coming first in trivial activities would very often make me not want to join in. My parents had been very puzzled as they didn’t understand why I would feel so strongly.
