Lois Meade 03: Weeping on Wednesday (1987) (17 page)

She would walk past and have a look, maybe have a chat to whoever was in the playground. Must be break time about now. She walked briskly down the street, collected a few purchases and items of gossip from the shop – nothing useful about the Abrahams – and strolled more slowly round to Farnden school. It was playtime, as she’d hoped, and the long-serving headmistress was in the playground, cup of coffee in hand, doing duty. She was rare among head teachers in wanting to watch the children at play as well as in the classroom. She was also wise, seeing useful pointers to the way they progressed in their schoolwork in the constantly shifting patterns of friendship and gang-warfare amongst the children in the playground. “Concentration on the whole child is not a philosophy invented yesterday,” she would say gently to her young staff.

“Morning, Miss Clitheroe!” Lois called, and the head teacher walked over to the school railings.

“How are you, my dear?”

“Very well thanks,” said Lois.

Miss Clitheroe was an old pro at public relations and said, “How’s your mother? Such a nice helpful person at our jumble sale!”

“Yeah, well, she likes nothing better,” said Lois. “Works in the Oxfam shop…a regular rag-and-bone-lady, we tell her.”

“Did I hear that you’ve acquired a piano? I’m sure that didn’t come from the Oxfam shop!”

Lois laughed. “News gets around pretty quickly, doesn’t it,” she said.

“Certainly does to me,” said Miss Clitheroe. “Some parents would be horrified if they knew what their offspring write in their newsbooks! Anyway, is the piano for your mother?”

“No, no, it’s for Jamie, my youngest,” Lois said, and then happily saw a way to get to the subject she’d had in mind all along. “He’s having lessons from Miss Abraham from Cathanger Mill. I expect you know her?”

“Oh, goodness, yes. We know Miss Abraham…Enid. She used to teach recorder – and piano, if required – round all the schools in the county. Very popular, too. Used to give little concerts with the children, singing and playing, for parents and friends. She was much missed when she had to give up.”

“Why did she stop?” Lois prayed that the end-of-break bell would not go yet.

“Family problems. Her mother became a recluse, and began to work on Enid to stay at home with her. Then there was the brother…”

“The brother? Edward?”

Miss Clitheroe gazed across the playground, where an impromptu game of Creeping Jinnie had got going with much screaming and shouting. “That man was one of the nastiest pieces of work I’ve come across,” she said flatly. “Enid was scared of him, you know, frightened of what he might do next.” she added. “He and his mother ruled the whole family. Sponged off his father, and wound Enid round his little finger. They were close, in a funny way. Sometimes I thought she hated him, but then she’d turn and defend him. I’ve heard they’re twins, though she denied it when I asked her. He resented her having friends, or anyone visiting her. In the end, it was easier for Enid to give up. She braved it out as long as she could, but they won in the end. Poor Enid.”

“Do you know where he might have gone?” said Lois quickly, seeing the playground monitor approaching the rope that pulled the old bell.

“To hell, I hope,” said Miss Clitheroe vehemently, and walked off to shepherd her flock back into school.

Nothing new there then, thought Lois, setting off for home. The twins thing again, though. She stopped on hearing a voice calling her name. “Mrs Meade! Just a minute!”

It was Miss Clitheroe. Must be something urgent for her to leave her class. Lois turned and walked back towards the hurrying figure. “There is something,” Miss Clitheroe gasped. “Must tell you now, in case I forget.” Lois waited. “That Edward Abraham – you asked me if I knew where he might be. I saw on television that he’d done a runner.” Miss Clitheroe was more or less up to date with jargon, even if she was close to retirement.

“Well?” Lois smiled at her encouragingly.

“Alibone Woods. I remember Enid telling me he sometimes vanished for two or three days, living rough in some hiding place he’d found. She laughed when I asked if it coincided with the full moon. But seriously, Mrs Meade, I think he is a bit mad. Whether dangerously mad, I don’t know. But I hope the police find him soon. Do you think they’ve looked in Alibone Woods? And in other woods around?”

“I think they have, but maybe not well enough,” said Lois. “Do you remember anything else she said about the hiding place?”

Miss Clitheroe thought hard. “There was…oh, now what was it…Ah, now wait a minute. She said there was some sort of cave where there’d been a landslide…something to do with an old quarry. It was completely grown over with trees and bushes. I remember she said he came home with snagged jerseys and even ripped trousers. And, of course, Enid had to mend them. Yes, that was it.”

At this point they heard a shout from the school direction, and looked round. “Oh lor,” said Miss Clitheroe, “that’s my deputy waving her arms about! Better dash…”

“Damn,” said Lois. “Still, thanks very much, Miss Clitheroe.” Time for a report to the top cop.

§

Cowgill was waiting for her. She noticed he was dressed entirely in a kind of khaki-green, and smiled.

“Camouflaged, are we?” she said.

“Ever been birdwatching, Lois?” he replied, without an answering smile.

She shook her head. “The likes of me don’t go bird-watching,” she said.

“Rubbish,” said Cowgill, and continued, “and anyway, if you had, you’d know that if you want to be invisible you don’t wear a scarlet anorak.” Then he smiled, and she didn’t. The anorak had been her Christmas present from Derek, and she was very fond of it.

“I could be mistaken for a robin,” she said. “You know, Robin Redbreast?”

“Shall we get down to business?” he said. “I presume you’ve got something to tell me, and this isn’t a trap where I shall be attacked by a revengeful husband?”

“Yes, I have,” said Lois frostily, “but first you can tell me where you’ve got to in finding the writer of those shitty letters.”

“We’re making progress,” Cowgill said. “And may I suggest we call a truce? At least for this morning? I wish you both nothing but well, Lois, you know that.”

She wasn’t so sure about the ‘both’, but began to tell him the latest on Edward Abraham. “Miss Clitheroe said the cave was somewhere in these woods, near to where an old quarry used to be.” She went on to fill him in on the impossible situation for Enid at Cathanger Mill, and ended up, “So the sooner we catch the bugger the better.”

“Right,” he said. “Most useful. But there is one small thing I have to point out to you. I know you’re Enid’s employer, and feel sorry for her, and like her. But we cannot ignore the possibility that there is collusion there. If he had that much hold over the family, he may still be exercising it. He’s been missing for longer than we’d usually expect in such circumstances, and this probably means someone’s helping him.”

“You’re not suggesting Enid is…” Lois bristled, and Cowgill retreated a step or two.

“Steady now,” he said. “Just try to think it out clearly, Lois. In this business the head must always rule the heart, and there’s nothing wrong with your head.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Lois said grudgingly.

“Talk to her. The piano lessons should give you the opportunity. Does she trust you?”

Lois nodded. “I think so. And that’s why I don’t want to…”

“Well, it’s up to you,” said Cowgill, straightening his khaki cap and turning away. “But don’t forget, Lois,” he added, “you could be helping Enid Abraham in the long run. Maybe changing her life. Think about it.”

“S
taff meeting this morning,” Lois said, climbing out of bed and helping Derek zip up his trousers. The zip had stuck, and he was losing patience.

“Hey! Watch it!”

Lois began to laugh. “You’ll be puttin’ our marriage in danger if you don’t go careful. Here, let me do it.”

And then, of course, one thing led to another, the zip was fixed, and some time elapsed before both of them went downstairs and into the kitchen for breakfast.

“You’re late,” said Gran. “I’ve got some black puddin’ spoiling here in the pan. The kids have refused to eat it, so I’m relying on you two.” She was surprised at the way they wolfed it down, especially Lois, who normally nibbled a piece of toast.

“Nothing like a spot of exercise,” said Derek, “to give you a good appetite.” Since neither had been outside the back door, Gran merely raised her eyebrows.

“Bill phoned,” she said. “He might be a bit late for the meeting. His client asked him to do an extra hour – got people coming to stay – so he said unless he heard from you, he’d go ahead and do it.”

“Fine,” said Lois. “Thanks, Mum.”

“Hope he remembers his apron,” said Derek, carefully distancing himself from Lois, “specially if they got guests.” Lois stood up, but she was not quick enough, and he had gone, Douglas holding the back door open to aid his escape.

§

“Hi, everybody.” Lois noticed that Bill had not yet arrived, but all the others were there. Bridie and daughter Hazel were sitting at opposite ends of the room, and Lois wondered what was up. Sheila Stratford had brought her knitting, and was triumphantly casting off the final sleeve of a vast jersey for her husband. Enid Abraham sat neatly as ever, smiling gently at her colleagues, but as remote as if merely an onlooker.

They had the usual discussion on schedules, and then Lois asked if there were any problems. Silence. This was also usual. It took a few minutes before anything personal emerged. Then Bridie spoke. “There is something,” she said, “but it’s about Bill’s girlfriend, so I’m not sure…”

“Do you want to tell me privately?” Lois said.

“Not really. It affects us all, so if it’s OK?” Lois nodded, and Bridie continued. “Well, you know she works at Waltonby school? Apparently someone’s been gossiping there, and saying New Brooms is rubbish. The most likely person is Rebecca, though she seems nice enough to me.”

There was a shocked hush, and then Sheila Stratford spoke. “I’ve not heard anything,” she said. “And I often stand at the school gates talking to the mums. I meet my grandchildren, and they haven’t said nothing, either.”

Bridie looked across at Hazel. “Well,” she said, “go on, Hazel, tell what you heard.”

Hazel sighed. She had told her mother to keep quiet about it, but she wouldn’t listen. They’d had words before coming to the meeting. Hazel had said the best thing to do with gossip was to ignore it, but Bridie was incensed. Lois, her oldest friend, was being criticized, and she intended to get to the bottom of it.

“Well, Hazel?” Lois was curious, though not particularly worried. Gossip was meat and drink to some, and she always listened. But it hadn’t been about her lately, and could mean something. Something to do with Enid?

Hazel glared at her mother, and said, “It’s probably nothing much…just one of those big-mouths at the school gates. I happened to be talking to a friend, and heard this woman say she’d heard things about New Brooms. Rotten job, cleaning, she reckoned. Only fit for people who couldn’t do anything else. Like that woman from the mill. Nobody else’d employ her, they said.” Lois looked up sharply, worrying that Hazel had gone too far, but Enid’s face was as calm as ever. “Then they started laughing,” Hazel continued, “and Bill’s name was mentioned. I suppose they think a bloke doin’ cleaning is a real joke. Anyway, I just turned round and told them to mind their own bloody business, and they went off to get their precious darlings from the playground.” She shrugged. “Sorry, Lois,” she added. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. You know what they’re like.”

“Yes,” said Lois, remembering the unpleasant buzz that went round Long Farnden when she, a cleaner, and her family moved into the doctor’s house. “Yes, I know. Thanks anyway, both of you. And don’t
any
of you think any more about it. Could be one of them didn’t get the job when I was recruiting. But the gossip’s not likely to come from Rebecca, not when her Bill is one of us. Still, I’ll mention it. He’s coming later.”

Bill came about ten minutes later, and Lois said nothing, planning to keep him back after the meeting. As it happened, he wanted a private chat too, so after the others had gone the two sat down again and Lois opened the conversation. She told him what Hazel had said, and he exploded. When he had calmed down, Lois gave him the possible explanation, and he agreed that probably the best thing was to do nothing. “But if it gets around that Rebecca is gossiping, then that’s serious,” he said. “Could prejudice her job.”

Lois smiled. “Not with her uncle bein’ chairman of the governors,” she said.

“Ah, well, p’raps not,” he answered, and added, “anyway, can I just tell you something funny that happened? Something to do with Enid Abraham? I know you think I’ve got it in for her, but I haven’t, an’ it’s something you ought to know.”

He told her what the Rev Rogers had relayed to Rebecca. “Enid was really upset about that woman saying her brother was a danger to children. And then there was that odd business with slamming doors and running footsteps, and her denying hearing anything.”

He added what Seb Charrington had told him about Enid and the dog, and her trying to stop Seb going into the woods. “She’s up to something, I reckon,” he said finally. “Hazel thinks so, too. You could say it’s none of our business, but this is more than gossip.” He got up then, and looked down at Lois.

He’s an attractive bloke, she thought objectively. She had noted Hazel’s name included in his judgement, and wondered when those two had got together. It wasn’t on any cleaning job. She had instinctively avoided that. She didn’t want to lose him. He was a big strong lad, and might come in useful if she ever got herself into another tight corner working for Cowgill.

She thanked him and said she’d be on the watch, but that Enid had proved satisfactory in every way as an employee of New Brooms. “Still, I’ll certainly keep my eyes and ears open,” she said, and saw him to the door.

§

Gran and Lois sat at the kitchen table. There were just the two of them for lunch, and silence had fallen.