by Simon Brett
‘Hm …’
‘Incidentally,’ said Jude mischievously, knowing exactly the response her next suggestion would elicit, ‘I know you have no wish to join the choir …’
‘I’m glad at least you’ve got that message.’
‘… but they’re quite a jolly bunch.’
‘I’ll take your word for that.’
‘And most of us tend to stay for a drink after rehearsal … you know, round eight thirtyish.’
‘So?’
‘So … I just thought, if you were at a loose end one Monday, you might like to come down to the pub and join us.’
Carole’s pale blue eyes looked bleakly at her neighbour. ‘Jude, the day I join your choir friends for a drink in the Crown & Anchor at eight thirty on a Monday evening, you will know that I have exhausted all other possible demands on my time.’
‘Right,’ said Jude, suppressing a smile. Her expectation of Carole’s response had been exactly fulfilled.
There was a silence. Then Carole, characteristically worrying away at a subject which most people would have thought defunct, asked, ‘So, Heather actually stated that she could afford Blake Woodruff’s fee?’
‘I don’t know if she had any idea how much it might be, but yes, she did say that.’
‘Hm. And she said that Leonard’s death had left her pretty “well-heeled”?’
‘That’s exactly what she said, yes.’ Jude looked straight at the pale blue eyes, shielded by their rimless glasses. ‘What are you implying?’
‘Just that speeding up the receipt of an inheritance is one of the commonest motives for murder.’
Jude sighed again. She thought all that conjecture had gone away. Clearly, for Carole, it hadn’t. And nor, she had to confess, if she was completely honest, had it for her.
The Monday before the wedding, the Crown & Anchor Choir met as usual. Bet Harrison was now a regular, though without her son Rory, but Ruskin Dewitt hadn’t attended since his summary exclusion from the wedding choir. Since he lived in Fedborough, there was little danger of other members bumping into him in the streets of Fethering, but Jude did worry about the effect his banishment might have had. She knew nothing about his personal circumstances, but somehow didn’t see him as married. And the enthusiasm with which he had embraced the Crown & Anchor Choir at the start suggested that he might have time on his hands in retirement. Presumably he no longer came to the pub on Mondays because he feared a level of awkwardness when he met Heather.
Jude felt saddened by what had happened to him but couldn’t think of any way of checking on his well-being. Nor could she forget the level of irritation he always inspired in her, with his bear hugs and self-absorption.
She also thought back to the slight tension she had detected between Russ and Jonny and wondered how far that animosity went back. She knew they had both taught at the same school, Ravenhall, for a while, and Jonny’s attack on his former colleague’s singing might have been the venting of some long-accumulated bile.
But, though the relationship between the two men intrigued her, Jude had to confess to herself that it wasn’t really her business.
And the surfaces of both choirs seemed effectively to have closed over the absence of Ruskin Dewitt.
The imminence of the wedding gave an added excitement to the Crown & Anchor Choir’s meeting that Monday. Though not all of those present were in both choirs, there were enough who would be at Saturday’s ceremony for a giggly sense of anticipation to run through KK’s rehearsal. To make the closeness of the event more real, Alice Mallett, who was staying with her stepmother till the big day, had joined their ranks. And, whatever her skills as an actress, she certainly had a fine natural soprano voice. When congratulated on it, she said, self-effacingly, ‘It’s not as good as it should be. I keep meaning to get singing lessons, but never get round to it. Maybe I should set up something with KK … or Jonny, if he’s got time.’
The song they were working on that evening was ‘Time of the Season’, which, Jude recalled, had been a hit for the Zombies. Though she hadn’t been around when it was first released in 1967, it was a tune of which she was particularly fond. She couldn’t think about it without remembering an actor lover, considerably older, who had tried to entrap her in his psychedelic past. The liaison had not lasted, but it was one she looked back on with increasing wistfulness. He, of course, was long dead, but hearing the Zombies’ song never failed to revive her memory of him.
The Crown & Anchor Choir had rehearsed the number before, it was a favourite of theirs, and that evening KK was pleased with their first attempt.
‘That’s getting quite cool,’ he congratulated them. ‘Almost funky. But what it should be – and what you dudes aren’t making it yet – is sexy. It’s a very sexy number; think “The Summer of Love”. Those breathy noises over the opening should sound like you’re enjoying some really good foreplay.’
Neither Shirley nor Veronica Tattersall knew where to look, so they looked at each other. And that made them blush.
‘And,’ KK went on, ‘make those responses sexy too.’ He strummed a chord on his guitar. ‘So, like, I sing: “What’s your name?” And you echo it, but I want that echo to sound like you’re on the way to a really major orgasm.’
Again, Shirley and Veronica Tattersall didn’t know where to look. They didn’t make the mistake of catching each other’s eye this time. But they still blushed. Elizabeth Browning, on the other hand, nodded knowingly, as if in recollection of orgasms shared with lovers long dead (no doubt at Glyndebourne).
Jude again noticed, on the first run of the song, the beauty of Alice Mallett’s voice. Obviously, because they weren’t related by blood, this couldn’t be a genetic inheritance from Heather, but there was something about the way the two women sang side by side which implied harmony – and not just in the musical sense. The more Jude saw of them together, the more out of character seemed Alice’s outburst after her father’s funeral. Heather appeared as bonded to Alice as any mother could be to a daughter she had given birth to.
‘OK, dudes,’ said KK, ‘let’s just rehearse these responses. I’ll sing the lines, you do the echoes. And remember, like you’re having really good sex …’
Shirley and Veronica Tattersall didn’t know where to put themselves.
Carole was feeling lonely. It was something she rarely admitted to herself. If she experienced such weakness coming on, her normal resource was to take Gulliver out for a brisk walk on Fethering Beach. And it would never occur to anyone who saw her out there that she was lonely. Nobody who had a dog could be lonely, could they? It was the main reason she had bought Gulliver when she’d moved permanently to Fethering.
But the trouble was, that Monday evening Gulliver wasn’t with her. He was at the vet’s. He’d had a very messily upset stomach for the previous few days – no doubt occasioned by some noxious seaborne delicacy he had ingested on the beach, and the vet had wanted to keep him in overnight to monitor his condition. Carole was not given to sentimentality about animals, but this threat to Gulliver’s health made her realize how desolated she would be to lose him.
Her other resource when such thoughts threatened had proved unavailable that evening. She had rung through to Stephen and Gaby’s house in Fulham, early enough to have a chat with her talkative and increasingly articulate granddaughter Lily, but had been greeted by the voice of an Eastern European babysitter, announcing that her son and daughter-in-law were out. Lily and her little sister Chloe had been put to bed early and were both asleep. Would she like to leave a message? Carole didn’t.
She tried to concentrate on The Times crossword, but the clues remained intractably opaque. She zapped desultorily through a few television channels but found what was on offer even duller than usual.
And then she remembered what Jude had said about some of the choir staying on at the Crown & Anchor after rehearsal.
Both Heather and Alice went for a drink in the bar after that evening’s session. KK came too. H
e seemed completely to have shed the nervousness he had demonstrated at the Monday choir’s first meeting. As he relaxed, Jude warmed to him, finding beneath the rock ’n’ roll image a generous soul with genuine interest in his fellow human beings. He was just one of those people who lacked any ability to deal with the practicalities of life.
He also seemed very relaxed around Heather. Maybe, Jude conjectured, that had been the reason for his earlier anxiety. He was afraid of being seen in public with the new widow. Jude didn’t know the extent of their relationship, but there was clearly a bond between them. Good for Heather, she thought. Life with the late Leonard Mallett did not sound as if it had been a barrel of laughs. His widow deserved some time in the sun.
Waiting in the bar for the choir as they came through was Alice’s fiancé, Roddy Skelton, dressed in Wodehousian tweed. He rose from his table and his half-full pint of bitter to greet everyone. ‘Come on, my shout. Let me buy you all a drink.’
‘You don’t have to do that,’ said KK. ‘You don’t even know me.’
‘Never mind. I gather most of you are going to be singing at the wedding on Saturday, so this is an early thank-you.’
‘I won’t be there,’ KK pointed out.
‘Don’t even think about it. I’m just feeling extremely jolly, and I would like to share my good humour. Now, I know Alice and Heather will be on the Pinot Grigio. What about the rest of you songbirds?’
While Roddy went to the bar with his shipping order of drinks, Jude looked across the room to see a very awkward-looking Carole enter. Knowing the situation with Gulliver, and realizing how much pride her neighbour must have swallowed to come to the Crown & Anchor, she went across to give her a hug.
‘Come on, quick. Roddy’s buying drinks.’ Jude called across to the bar. ‘Could you add another large New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc!’
‘Wilco!’
‘But I can’t accept a drink from someone I don’t know,’ whispered Carole, appalled.
‘It’s Roddy Skelton. I thought you said you met him at the funeral.’
‘Well, yes, I did, but only for a moment, and that’s hardly a close enough relationship for him to—’
‘Too late. He’s already given the order,’ said Jude. ‘Now, come and meet the choir.’
Mutely, reluctantly, Carole let herself be led across the room. ‘I know you’re worried about Gulliver,’ Jude whispered. ‘He’ll be fine.’
Carole manufactured an appropriately subdued expression. But she had to admit to herself that it wasn’t just anxiety about the dog that had brought her to the Crown & Anchor that evening. She couldn’t get out of her head the scene she had witnessed after Leonard Mallett’s funeral, and a visit to the pub offered her the perfect opportunity to monitor the interplay between widow and stepdaughter. Carole still wanted explanations.
The atmosphere in the alcove they’d all managed to cram into was, as Jude had promised, very jolly. The excitement generated by the closeness of the wedding still continued, and Heather reported to those who didn’t know that Jonny Virgo had actually been pleased by the music rehearsal the previous Friday. ‘And he’s a very hard taskmaster.’
‘Oh, goodness,’ said Elizabeth Browning, ‘don’t talk to me about hard taskmasters. When I was at Glyndebourne, we had this internationally renowned conductor who—’
Like the rest of them, Bet Harrison had clearly learned the skill of interrupting whenever the word ‘Glyndebourne’ was mentioned. She said wistfully ‘I almost wish I’d stayed with the church lot to sing at the wedding. But time, you know, is always a problem. Looking after Roddy as a single mum … well, it’s not easy.’
Jude was beginning to wonder whether Bet ever conducted a conversation without immediately bringing up the difficulties of her marital status. Still, with characteristic generosity, she told herself that the woman’s divorce was relatively recent.
‘I’m sure it’s our loss you won’t be singing,’ said Roddy with easy diplomacy. He was sitting beside his fiancée, and the two of them looked very together. Alice gazed at him adoringly. The tweed suit he wore managed to look almost as formal as the pin-stripe he’d had on at the funeral.
‘Very jolly,’ he went on, ‘being back here in the Crown & Anchor. Scene of my first illicit underage pint.’ Roddy chuckled and looked across the table to KK. ‘Are you part of the singing brigade too?’
The guitarist put down the pint of Guinness from which he had been drinking and wiped the moustache of froth off his top lip.
‘Well, I am, like, in the business of singing, dude, but I’m afraid I won’t be at your wedding gig.’
‘No worries.’
‘KK’s in charge of the choir we have here in the pub,’ Heather explained.
‘Oh, right. Gotcha.’
‘I’m, like, a professional muso,’ said KK.
‘Right.’
‘Got a band called Rubber Truncheon.’ Once again, he spoke the name in anticipation of some reaction.
‘Sorry, afraid I’m rather in the ranks of the tin ears when it comes to music. Heard of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, but that’s about it.’ Roddy took his fiancée’s hand. ‘Still, Alice is musical enough for the both of us. Let’s hope her talents, rather than mine, are passed on to the sprogs …’ For a moment he looked uncertain, before adding, ‘… if we have any.’
‘So, what do you do?’ asked KK. ‘You’re not in the theatre, too, are you?’ he added, in a tone of total disbelief.
‘Good God, no. I’d never remember the lines. No, I’m in the army.’
‘Oh.’ KK’s lip curled. Jude could see him about to voice what people who regard themselves as ‘creatives’ think of the armed forces, but he thought better of it. All he said was, ‘Well, there you go then.’
‘So how did you and Alice meet?’ asked Jude, easing the conversation back on to an uncontroversial plane.
‘Oh, right here in Fethering. That’s why I know the Crown & Anchor. We met at the Yacht Club. My Aged Ps live in Smalting … well, it’s just my father now. My mother passed on a couple of years back, but the old man’s astonishingly fit for his age. Still on the golf course a couple of times a week.’ He spoke with unapologetic pride. ‘So, I’ve always been round this area. And always loved “messing about in boats”. Alice and I’ve known each other since we were … what? Fifteen?’
‘Thirteen,’ Alice corrected him.
‘Thirteen,’ he echoed. ‘The lady is always right. Anyway, we got back in touch after I’d finished at Sandhurst … and here we are.’ He chuckled heartily. ‘If I’m going to get away from her now, I’ll have to do it before Saturday, won’t I?’
Alice smiled indulgently. There was clearly no way she was ever going to let him get away from her.
‘So, Roddy …’ Carole felt it was about time she contributed something to the conversation. ‘What branch of the army do you work in?’
‘Intelligence.’
Jude was glad she didn’t catch her friend’s eye. There was a serious danger she might have giggled. But clearly there was more to Roddy Skelton than one might have expected on first impressions.
‘And does your work take you all over the world?’
‘Seen a fair bit of it, yes. Done tours in the Gulf, a couple in Afghanistan. And then of course sometimes have to go abroad for training.’
‘So, aren’t you fully trained yet?’ KK couldn’t resist asking. ‘Didn’t they teach you anything at Sandhurst?’
Roddy smiled good-humouredly. Whatever he may have thought inwardly, he wasn’t about to rise to such rudeness. ‘Oh, you never know it all,’ he said, ‘particularly in the world of Intelligence. Apart from anything else, the technology is changing on a daily basis. You wouldn’t believe the stuff the techies are coming up with. I was on a week’s course at GCHQ recently, and some of the software the Russians are developing …’ He made a mock shudder. ‘Very scary.’
‘When was this?’ asked Carole.
‘Month or so back. Well, I
can tell you exactly when it was, because I didn’t finish the course. Had to come back down here a day before the end, when I heard about Leonard’s death.’
‘I don’t suppose you can give us more detail about this Russian software …?’ asked Bet Harrison.
‘You’re spot on there. I can’t. More than my job’s worth. Probably more than my life’s worth, the way the Russians are behaving these days.’ He guffawed heartily, though the danger he mentioned was quite possibly real.
‘I find it really frightening,’ said Bet Harrison. ‘We seem to be going back to the Cold War. And I don’t want my son Rory to grow up in that kind of atmosphere, you know, of international tension, fear of a nuclear holocaust. Particularly because I’m a single mum and he doesn’t have a strong male role model at home.’ She was back on her familiar tracks.
Jude once again diverted the conversation. ‘Heather, do you know much about the tenor Jonny’s booked for the wedding?’
‘Not a lot. Except that he’s called Toby. Jonny’s worked with him before, and says he’s very reliable, a safe pair of hands. And he has sung the “Ave Maria” a good few times, so he knows it well. But we’ll find out more at rehearsal on Friday, won’t we?’
‘Jude,’ Carole hissed, as they left the Crown & Anchor. ‘Did you notice?’
‘Notice what?’
A bunch of rowdy youths staggered out of the pub after them.
‘I’ll tell you when we’re alone,’ Carole murmured conspiratorially.
‘Fine. Oh, damn,’ said Jude, holding out her empty hands. ‘I left my handbag where we were rehearsing! Wait. I won’t be a moment.’
Carole let out a sharp sigh of irritation.
As Jude approached the Function Room door, she heard a raised voice from inside. Raised in panic and fury. ‘KK,’ it said, ‘keep your hands to yourself! Don’t you ever dare touch me again!’
Jude just had time to slip into the Ladies, leaving the door ajar, so that she was not seen by Heather Mallett as she came storming out of the Function Room.
