The Seven Stars (5 page)

She ran upstairs and rummaged in her handbag for her diary. Then
, sitting on the bed, she dialled the number.

Yes
, there were still a few vacancies for the antiques course. No, unfortunately it wasn’t a residential one; normally it would have been, but work was in progress on modernising the bedrooms and they wouldn’t be available till Easter. However, lunch and afternoon tea were provided and there was plenty of excellent bed and breakfast accommodation in the vicinity. If Mrs Campbell would confirm her booking in writing, they would send her a list of possible addresses.

It wasn
’t until she’d replaced the phone that she thought of the Seven Stars. Why bother trying to find somewhere else when she’d been so comfortable there? And it was only a twenty-minute drive from Melbray.

Ten minutes later she had spoken to a surprised Stella Cain
, who confirmed that of course they’d be delighted to put her up for two weeks from Sunday the twenty-third. Remembering the interesting company, the good food and the pretty, poppy-splashed bedroom, Helen felt a grain of comfort.

She was tempted to ring her daughter
, but decided against it. Since her plans would fuel more antagonism, it was better not to mention them to anyone till nearer the time. In the meantime, to lessen Andrew’s cause for complaint, she would cook and freeze one-portion meals for the two weeks she was away.

With the decision made
, Helen felt immediately better and the day passed pleasantly enough as she planned her cooking and freezing programme. Andrew, too, must have resolved to put the row finally behind him. He returned that evening with a box of chocolates, and though no reference was made to the night before, Helen accepted it as a tacit acknowledgement of his overreaction. For the moment life had teetered back on to a more or less even keel.

*

‘Chris?’

‘
Hello, Dave.’

‘
I’m just phoning to see how things are going on the hit-and-run.’

‘
Slowly. There were flakes of paint on some tree-roots at the scene and broken glass from a headlight, but as yet we haven’t pinned down the car they came from.’

‘
Any more on the girl?’

‘
Well, as you know, she was local, from Marlton. Ironically enough, she worked at the guesthouse where Skinner went to phone.’

‘
She was never walking home from there? It’s a good three miles, and on a night like that —’

‘
She usually cycled, according to her parents, but that night she left her bike behind — probably felt it was too foggy to ride.’

‘
It would have been better than walking — at least she’d have had a light. But you’d think in that weather her employers would have run her home. What did they have to say about it?’

‘
Very shocked, as you’d expect, especially since under normal circumstances it wouldn’t have happened; she usually worked mornings, but that day she’d had a dental appointment so switched to the afternoon. Probably didn’t realise the fog had come down till she was actually leaving.’

Webb grunted and changed the subject.
‘Did you get to the exhibition?’

‘
Not a chance, though Janet went along one afternoon. Said it was very striking.’

‘
Well, it might come to Shillingham yet.’

A smile came into Ledbetter
’s voice. ‘Oh, I doubt if they’ll take it out to the sticks!’

There was a centuries-old rivalry between the two towns
, now principally maintained by their football teams. Originally Steeple Bayliss had been the county capital, till increasing industrialisation made its position in the topmost corner of Broadshire less convenient than central Shillingham.

‘
Well, any time you feel like slumming, come over and I’ll buy you a pint.’

‘
I’ll hold you to that. See you.’

‘
See you,’ Webb replied, replacing the phone.

‘
It’s your weekend off, isn’t it, Dave?’ Crombie commented from across the office. ‘Anything lined up?’

‘
No; in this weather it’s scarcely worth making an effort.’ He glanced through the window at the dank, drear day. Though had Hannah been free, it would have been different.

‘
I’ll probably have a painting binge,’ he said. ‘I’ve one or two ideas brewing.’

‘
Missed out on seeing the Russians, so you’ll produce your own?’ Crombie suggested with a grin. ‘Fair enough.’

The Governor
’s artistic talents, though he rarely spoke of them, were well known at Carrington Street station. More particularly, they had several times been instrumental in his solving a case, the startlingly lifelike caricatures of the people involved alerting him to some previously unnoticed trait which proved significant. The process was known among his colleagues as the Governor ‘drawing conclusions’.

What they did not know was that Webb was also the acclaimed cartoonist whose work appeared sporadically in the
Broadshire
News
, signed by an enigmatic ‘S’ in a circle, denoting a spider in a web. He had a few in his desk drawer, he thought now; might as well get them off to Mike Romilly before he started nagging again.

With a sigh
, he returned to his paperwork.

*

Hatherley Hall, the home of the Rudges, was on the northeast fringe of Shillingham, in the residential district of the same name. Since Charles also lived in that direction, Hannah had suggested meeting him there, but he’d insisted on calling for her.

It was another misty evening
, streetlamps festooned with fuzzy haloes and everything damp to the touch. Hannah settled into the soft leather car-seat and pulled up her collar. To think she might have been in Paris with David!

The Hall stood on a rise of ground at the end of a long
, curving drive. Through the mist, she was conscious of the tall, silent forms of trees on either side, like watchful sentinels waiting in the shadows. Then, round the final bend, the house came into sight, its lights struggling to shine out in welcome.

Charles parked on the broad sweep of gravel alongside the cars of earlier arrivals and
, his hand at her elbow, they walked quickly to the door and were ushered inside.

As always on these occasions
, the great double doors leading to both drawing and dining-rooms had been folded back, making the hall into one vast reception area. A maid was waiting to take their coats, and at the top of the sweeping staircase a string quartet had already started to play. Things were done in style at Hatherley, Hannah reflected.

Their host and hostess hurried forward to greet them
, and as she kissed Lady Ursula’s papery cheek, Hannah thought, as she always did, how beautiful she must have been as a young woman. The delicate bone structure was still discernible, the eyes, though deeper in their sockets, were still large and lustrous, while her soft grey hair coiled into a loose chignon, giving her an air of almost regal dignity.

Sir Clifford was
, as always, briskly charming in his immaculate dinner jacket, his thick white hair parted with care. The ebony cane on which he relied to ease an old leg injury was as much a part of him as the military-style moustache which now brushed her cheek.

‘
My dear Hannah, how pleasant this is! Too bad Gwen can’t be with us this year.’

‘
I’m sure Canada has its compensations!’ Lady Ursula murmured. ‘Have you heard from her lately?’

‘
Not since Christmas, but she’s enjoying herself enormously.’

They were interrupted by the approach of one of the
waiters with a tray of drinks, and as the Rudges went to greet new arrivals, Hannah and Charles moved further into the hall.

Since there were twenty governors of the school and each had brought a partner
, there was quite a crowd. Many were friends as well as colleagues, in particular John and Beatrice Templeton — Beatrice, in fact, being Gwen Rutherford’s elder sister, and her husband the school doctor.

Having chatted to them for several minutes
, Hannah caught sight of Monica Latimer, one of her oldest friends, and, excusing herself, moved across to join her. Monica was the proprietor of Randall Tovey, the county’s most prestigious fashion store, but it was her husband George, a local bank manager, who was on the school board.

‘
I hope you’re coming to our preview on Tuesday, Hannah?’ Monica greeted her. ‘Wine and nibbles and a chance to see our spring fashions?’

Hannah smiled.
‘You don’t have to sell it to me, Monica, I’ll be there.’

‘
Good. Admission by ticket only, don’t forget. There’ll be someone on the door to keep out gatecrashers.’

‘
A pity burglars can’t be kept out as easily,’ Hannah commented, glancing at Lady Ursula across the room.

Monica sobered.
‘I know. There’s no more news, I suppose?’

‘
Not that I’ve heard. I feel so sorry for them.’

‘
For whom, my dear?’ Sir Clifford himself had come up behind her and slipped an arm round her waist.

‘
You, actually!’ Hannah confessed with a smile. ‘We were talking about the robbery.’

‘
Ah yes, an infernal business. I think we must accept we’ll never see our wine-taster again.’

‘
And now this Victorian miniature has disappeared,’ George Latimer commented. ‘How much would it be worth, Sir Clifford?’

The older man shrugged.
‘A couple of thousand, I suppose. George Richmond is very collectable; he was portrait painter in miniature by Royal Appointment, and the work was signed. Furthermore, being a collector herself, Her Majesty didn’t often part with such gifts.’

‘
Would the frame add to the value?’ Hannah asked. ‘I read it was studded with diamonds.’

‘
Yes, though some were missing. Separately, portrait and frame would each be worth a couple of thousand, but at auction you wouldn’t be likely to get more than that in total.’

‘
Well, let’s hope the police catch them soon,’ Charles observed, having joined the group in time to hear the last comments. ‘For once, I’m glad I haven’t a country seat!’

The evening followed its usual smooth pattern. Delicious food was laid out on the extended dining-table
, wine was plentiful and of excellent quality. Sir Clifford made his usual brief speech, and was cheered roundly by his guests.

Before stepping down from his elevated position on the staircase
, he added: ‘And on a business note, may I take the opportunity of apologising for my absence at the next meeting? I’m conducting a two-day course at Melbray, and though I’ll be back on the Wednesday, it won’t, I’m afraid, be in time to join you.’

‘
Will you go with him, Lady Ursula?’ Beatrice Templeton inquired.

‘
No, no. He’ll be away only the one night, and I shall be quite content here.’

‘
You won’t feel — ?’ Beatrice’s question tailed off as she belatedly doubted the wisdom of it.

Lady Ursula smiled.
‘Nervous? No, my dear, I shan’t. For one thing, the servants will be in the house with me. Anyway, one presumes the thieves now have what they want from us. They haven’t been known to strike twice at the same address.’

*

People were starting to drift away, and Hannah nodded in answer to Charles’s silent query. Minutes later they were gliding back down Lethbridge Road towards the town.

‘
Usual high standard,’ he commented.

‘
Yes; they seem very philosophical about their loss.’

‘
It’s the only way to be, isn’t it? I think it’s shaken them, though. Lady Ursula looks more frail than last time I saw her.’

Hannah was silent
, unwilling to think how Sir Clifford would cope should anything happen to his beloved wife.

They were known to be devoted to each other
, possibly the more so since they had no children with whom to share their love.

Reading her thoughts
, Charles said, ‘It will be lonely for the old boy if she goes first. A man alone is a knotless thread, as I know to my cost.’

The hint of depression in his voice was so unusual that Hannah was taken by surprise. To dispel it
, she said with a light laugh, ‘Anyone less “knotless” than you would be hard to find!’

‘
Appearances can be deceptive,’ he said quietly, and she dared say no more. She knew he had been lonely since his wife’s death, knew too that he still hoped she would rescue him from that loneliness.

And she was fond of him
, she thought sadly. He was charming, thoughtful, and very attractive with that lean, clever face and easy smile. She enjoyed his company and they had many of the same interests. Also, and importantly, he understood how much her career meant to her, and his active interest in the school would be a positive advantage.