Next Door to Murder (4 page)

Finally, Max stirred and began to stack their plates. ‘Well, this time tomorrow, you'll be a year older!' he said.

‘Don't remind me!'

‘And we'll be eating in rather more exotic surroundings.'

‘But without the scent of stocks, no doubt.'

‘True.'

Rona helped him carry their supper things indoors. Gus, who'd had his walk earlier, had already retired to his basket.

‘I'll go on up,' she said, as Max slid their plates into the dishwasher.

‘I'll not be far behind you.'

The old house creaked comfortably about her as she walked up the stairs. She must remember to get the camera from the desk drawer, she thought; birthday lunches were always recorded. In fact, she'd get it now, before she forgot.

The study was lit by reflection from the patio below, but as she retrieved the camera, the room was plunged into darkness as Max switched off the kitchen light. Rona glanced out of the window, and as she did so, something in the next-door garden caught her eye and she paused, moving back slightly. There it was again – a red glow, presumably a cigarette. By straining her eyes she could just distinguish the pale outline of a woman's dress against the denser darkness of the shrubs; and was aware of faint surprise. She wouldn't have put Mrs Franks down as a smoker.

‘What are you doing in the dark?' came Max's voice from behind her.

‘There's someone in next door's garden.'

‘Taking the night air, no doubt, as we were.'

‘Polluting it, actually. She's smoking.' Rona drew her brows together. ‘It's a woman, but she looks taller than Mrs Franks.'

‘A visitor, perhaps. Come on, love; we don't want to spy on them.'

She followed him silently out of the room. When they'd been sitting out there, had the Franks been just the other side of the wall? she wondered. And if so, could they have overheard their conversation? Though they'd said nothing private, it was a disturbing thought.

Sarah had, after all, left as usual for the weekend. It would seem strange, Avril reflected, when school broke up in two weeks' time, and she'd be alone again. Though her relationship with Sarah was a business one, the knowledge that there was someone else to cook breakfast for, to expect home in the evenings, and to be in the house overnight, was a source of great comfort. Conversely, she'd not wanted the girl under her feet, and Sarah had appreciated that. She was, in fact, the perfect PG; Avril only wished she could warm to her more.

Since she volunteered nothing personal, the existence of the boyfriend had come as a surprise. Answering the doorbell one evening, Avril had reached the door just ahead of Sarah, who'd had no option but to introduce him. Clive Gregory, his name was, and she'd added that he was a sports master at the school. He'd seemed a pleasant young man, tall and tanned and with a ready smile. It had reminded Avril, on a wave of nostalgia, of when similar young men had come calling for her own daughters.

She wasn't sure of standard practice covering long absences, but she'd hinted to Sarah that should she want to spend the odd night in Marsborough over the holidays, her room would be available, and the girl had seemed grateful. Perhaps, Avril thought now, on her way out to the car, she'd take the opportunity to go away herself, though as most of her friends were married, it might be difficult to find a companion. She'd heard there were holidays catering for single people, but didn't feel brave enough to consider one.

The Clarendon Hotel was almost as familiar to Avril as her own home. It had run like a thread through her life; childhood parties had been held there, both in her own infancy and later for her daughters. It had been the venue for post-pantomime teas, exam celebrations and New Year balls, and had also hosted all three of their family wedding receptions, although, she reflected soberly as she went through the swing doors, only Rona and Max's marriage had survived.

‘Mrs Parish!' Dorothy Fairfax came towards her, smiling her welcome. ‘How good to see you.' Tall and straight and in her eighties, Dorothy was the doyenne of the establishment and still, it was rumoured, had the final say in any major undertakings. She, too, had had family problems, and of a more serious nature than Avril's, but from her calm exterior and gracious bearing, it seemed she had weathered them.

‘You too, Mrs Fairfax,' Avril replied, taking her hand. ‘I was just thinking that coming here is almost like coming home.'

‘What a charming thought. Thank you. I believe it's your daughters' birthday? They're all awaiting you in the bar.'

Avril smiled acknowledgment, and moved away as Dorothy turned to greet other guests. She'd avoided the word ‘husband', Avril registered; no doubt it was now common knowledge that she and Tom had parted.

He and Max stood to greet her as she went into the bar. Kisses and presents were exchanged, and champagne cocktails, another family tradition on such occasions, were ordered. It was almost possible, in a suspension of disbelief, to imagine that all was as it had been, that they were still a united family meeting here, as they had so often, to celebrate another birthday.

‘You're looking very glam, Mum,' Lindsey said approvingly. ‘Love that dress.'

‘Thank you, dear.'

It was true, Tom thought, Avril did look good. It still came as a slight shock to see her so svelte and well-groomed, after years of self-neglect. And still, too, came the niggle of guilt that this transformation, which she'd made such an effort to achieve, should have coincided with his decision to leave her.

A waiter came to tell them their table was ready, and they were led through to the restaurant. Menus were produced, snowy napkins unfolded and placed, with a flourish, on their laps. The wine waiter approached, and while Tom discussed the list with him, the others settled down to studying the menu.

Avril was deciding on her first course when a voice above her said, ‘Mrs Parish? It is, isn't it?' And she looked up to see Guy Lacey smiling down at her.

‘Mr Lacey! Hello. Is Sarah with you?'

‘No, I begged leave of absence, so she's meeting friends for lunch. I'm attending a retirement party.'

Avril, aware of the family's intense interest, remembered her manners. ‘Mr Lacey is the father of my lodger,' she told them. And, to him, ‘May I introduce my daughters, Lindsey and Rona, my son-in-law Max, and –' she hesitated briefly – ‘my almost-ex-husband, Tom.'

‘Guy Lacey,' he said, his smile encompassing them all. ‘Delighted to meet you.' His eyes returned to Avril. ‘I hope my daughter's behaving herself with you?'

‘Oh, she's a model guest.'

‘That's good to hear. Well, I mustn't intrude. No doubt we'll catch up with each other before long.'

And he moved away to join the rest of his party at a table across the room.

‘Nice man,' commented Lindsey, observing her mother's faintly flushed cheeks. ‘When did you meet him?'

‘He came with Sarah when she first moved in,' Avril explained, adding quickly, ‘That's the only time we've met.'

Tom, noting her slight embarrassment and intrigued by it, came to her rescue. ‘Has everyone made their choice?' he asked. And wondered, privately, if there was a Mrs Lacey.

‘So – have you enjoyed your birthday?'

Lindsey looked across the candle-flame at her ex-husband. ‘I'm still enjoying it.'

‘I'm glad to hear it. How was the salmon?'

She looked ruefully at the half-fillet still on her plate. ‘Delicious. I'm sorry, Hugh, I simply have no more room.'

‘That's all right. You did warn me.'

But at these prices, Lindsey thought guiltily, there must be a good eight pounds' worth going to waste. A meal at Serendipity, the in-place to eat in Marsborough, did not come cheap, and he'd also bought her a very pretty bracelet.

The candles, the wine and the soft music playing in the background were working their magic, and she was acutely aware of Hugh's proximity. It was this strong physical attraction that had brought them together in the first place, and held them in thrall through five turbulent years. Even when love had gone – at least on her part – it remained a powerful force.

She looked up, saw his eyes on her face, and for a heart-stopping moment wondered if he'd been reading her thoughts. He reached across the table and gently took her wrist, idly turning it as though examining the bracelet.

‘Would you like to see the dessert menu?' he asked.

Lindsey forced a laugh. ‘Little girls who don't finish their main course don't get any pudding.'

‘This little girl may, if she'd like some.'

‘No, really, thank you. Just coffee, perhaps.'

‘Tell you what, then,' he said quietly, still not looking at her, ‘you've never seen my flat, have you? How about our going back there for coffee, rather than having it here?'

Lindsey's heart started thumping in slow, agonizing beats. It was a long time since she and Hugh had made love, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to withstand him. She had, to her shame, put him on hold pending a positive move from Dominic. But although he'd finally contacted her, the trip to France tomorrow would surely be as formal and platonic as their previous two outings. If she waited for his advances, she reflected, she'd be waiting a long time.

She looked up, meeting Hugh's intent, anxious gaze.

‘That would be lovely,' she said.

Avril, curled up on the sofa with a glass of spritzer, was thinking back to the lunch party. The girls seemed pleased with their presents, which was gratifying, and Tom – well, Tom had been his usual charming self. She still regretted the way things had turned out – largely, she knew, due to her own behaviour. Had things been right between them, he wouldn't have spared a second glance for Catherine Bishop.

Too late to think of that, though. And before she could stop it, her mind turned to Guy Lacey and their brief exchange in the restaurant.
No doubt we'll catch up with each other before long
. What had he meant by that? That he'd be coming to help Sarah pack up for the holiday? But there was no need, surely; she had her own car to transport her belongings.

Avril swung her feet impatiently to the floor, telling herself she'd imagined the admiration in his eyes. He was attractive, though; from the first, she'd liked his easy manner and the way he'd made her laugh. There hadn't been much laughter in the last year or two – again, largely her own fault. Well, given another chance, she'd make far better use of it; a sentiment she preferred not to analyse too closely.

It had been an enjoyable evening. The theatre was packed and the show excellent. They'd emerged into a heat scarcely diminished since midday, and made their way through the crowds to one of their favourite restaurants, where Max had booked a table.

‘The tunes are still going round in my head,' Rona commented. ‘It was lovely to hear them all again. Thanks for taking me, darling. I know it wasn't really your scene.'

‘A bit sentimental for my taste,' he acknowledged, ‘but it was your birthday, so your choice.'

‘It's been a good day altogether,' Rona said contentedly. ‘I enjoyed lunch, and the parents seemed in good form.'

‘Odd, your mother seeing that chap she knew.'

‘Oh, I don't know. Everybody meets everybody at the Clarendon; it's like the Champs Elysées.'

‘That's not quite what I meant. She blushed very prettily.'

‘Come on now, Max!' Rona protested. ‘You're imagining things.'

‘I think not. I shouldn't be surprised if we hear more of Mr Guy Lacey in the future.'

Rona stared at him. ‘You're serious?'

‘Not entirely. All I would say is, watch this space.'

‘Good Lord!' Rona considered for a moment. ‘It would be great if she
could
find someone, now Pops has Catherine.'

Max topped up their glasses. ‘Did I gather Lindsey's seeing Hugh this evening?'

‘Yes. I'm not altogether sure that's wise.'

‘Very
un
wise, I should say. She's surely not considering getting back with him?'

Rona sighed. ‘Who knows, with Linz? She needs a man in her life, that's always been her problem. Trouble is, she usually chooses the wrong one.'

‘Like that Hurst man she works with.'

‘Among others.'

‘Ah yes, the multi-millionaire.'

‘Not sure about the multi!' Rona said.

‘How are things on that front?'

‘Slow-moving, I think. He sounds an awkward devil.'

‘How so?'

‘Oh, hardly ever contacting her, and when he does, being formal in the extreme.'

‘That wouldn't suit Lindsey,' Max said shrewdly.

Rona flushed. ‘If she could only meet the right one, she'd be fine.'

A change of subject seemed to be called for. Unfortunately, the one he had to broach wouldn't be any more acceptable than criticizing his sister-in-law. His best bet seemed to be to come straight out with it.

‘I've a piece of news for you,' he said abruptly. ‘Adele Yarborough's back home.'

Rona drew in her breath. Adele was a student of Max's who had formed an attachment to him and caused an unconscionable amount of trouble. She'd spent the last few months at a psychiatric unit up in Norfolk.

‘How long have you known?'

‘Since yesterday. Philip phoned me, as a matter of courtesy, and I've been waiting for a suitable time to tell you. Obviously, she won't be coming back to class, but he thought Lindsey might see her, with them living in the same road, and that it was as well to be forewarned.'

‘Is she – better?'

Adele had been suffering from a form of Munchhausen's syndrome.

‘Philip says so. I've no intention of checking.'

After a moment Rona said, ‘It'll be good for the children to have her home.'