Authors: Sally Quilford
“No. I gather her people are from India. Or were
before it became independent. She was an English teacher at Bedlington Hall
School. She met the vicar when he borrowed the grounds for last year's fete.”
“What were you doing upstairs at the vicarage?
Snooping?”
Peg looked offended. “I do not snoop, Meredith
Bradbourne! Actually the downstairs cloakroom was out of order. That's the
trouble with these septic tanks. So we all had to use the one upstairs. Only
whilst I was in the bathroom, the landing light blew. So when I came back down,
it was quite dark.”
“Aunty Peg, I want you to keep Chalmers with you
whilst I'm out tonight.”
“Goodness, no, Meredith. I can't cope with that
woman's twitterings. She's not interested in anything but enemas and bed
baths.”
“Please, Aunty Peg, for my sake. You see … I'm
beginning to think that someone pushed you down the vicarage stairs.” To
Meredith's amazement Peg's face broke into a wide smile.
“Well done, darling. I wondered how long it would
take you to work it out.”
Chapter Seven
“Aunty Peg, this is not a game or a lesson,” said
Meredith, kneeling down by Peg's chair and taking her hand. “If you knew
someone tried to ...” She found she could not say 'kill you', “...injure you,
then you should have told me immediately. Oh, I should have realised it
sooner.”
“Now, now, don't distress yourself, darling.” Peg
stroked Meredith's hair. “I did rather hold back on the information.”
“Because you were waiting for me to notice, and I
failed to. I'm sorry for Mr. Turner, and Colonel Trefusis and the others who
have died, but you're more important to me, Aunty Peg. If anything happened to
you...”
“Now don't cry. You'll spoil your make up. Not that
you need any. You're so much like your mother. It does my heart good to see
what a lovely, intelligent young woman you've become.”
“Not intelligent enough,” said Meredith, darkly.
“I'm missing something big, and I don't know what it is.”
“There's always a final piece of the jigsaw,
darling, and when you have it, everything falls into place. It's out there,
waiting for you to find it. Now, you run along and don't worry about me. If
someone wanted to kill me, they'd have done it by now. No, I was simply got out
of the way for a while. But whoever did it, didn't bank on my successor. Go on.
Don't keep Reverend Drew waiting.”
“I thought you said we shouldn't trust people just
because we like them.”
“He's different.”
“How?”
“Oh well, darling, if you can't work it out for
yourself, I'm not going to tell you.”
The truth was that Meredith knew exactly what Peg
meant about Drew. He was different. She could no more imagine him sticking a
knife into a man than Doris Day turning out to be a Russian spy. And she had to
trust someone, otherwise she would go mad. It would be hard to accept there was
any goodness in the world if she suspected everyone of being a cold-blooded
killer. And she needed to believe there was goodness in Midchester, that it was
a place worth protecting from the dark things in life. Otherwise what on earth
were she and Aunty Peg fighting for?
As she walked to the vicarage, she could see that
goodness. Children playing in the street, families out for an evening walk, men
washing their cars, whilst women sat in deckchairs, enjoying the cool evening
breeze. Meredith was sorry she would have to leave to go to Willowmead School
in September. She could quite happily spend the rest of her life in Midchester.
A little voice told her that she would be even happier if Drew were there too,
but she pushed that aside. One kiss … or one and a half kisses to be exact …
did not signify a lasting relationship. He had made her no promises, and even
if his life had been much like hers, that did not mean he would choose her as a
wife. She knew for a fact she would make a terrible vicar's wife. She hardly
ever went to church, except at Christmas, and she would probably find it hard
to get excited about polishing pews.
No, she thought, as she neared the vicarage. Best to
put that idea out of her head straight away. Even if the image of her dressed
in white, at Drew's side, whilst Peter Mortimer took them through their vows,
kept returning to her.
The vicarage looked festive when she arrived. There
were fairy lights in the trees near to the door, and when she was ushered into
the hall by Edith, who took her coat, she could see through the opening that
the table in the dining room was set as if for royalty, with silver cutlery and
crystal wine glasses. A nagging voice that told Meredith there were people
starving in the world was quickly silenced. Why shouldn't a vicar and his wife
have nice things? For all she knew they'd been handed down from ancestors.
“Meredith, how lovely to see you again.” Clarice's
warm smile dispelled any nerves Meredith might have had about eating in such
opulent surroundings. “I've been longing to have a proper talk to you, but I've
been so busy this week, up at Bedlington Hall. Come on into the drawing room.
What can I get you? A sherry? Darling, pour Meredith a sherry, will you?”
“Hello, Meredith. Nice to see you again,” said Peter
Mortimer in his kindly way. He handed her a glass of sherry. “You already know
Drew, of course.”
“Yes. Hello, Drew.”
He stood with his back to the mantlepiece, nursing a
glass of sherry, and frowning. “Hello, Meredith,” he said, but his mind was
clearly elsewhere.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked.
“Drew's only worried because the car has been
stolen,” said Peter.
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” said Meredith. “We
dropped it off this afternoon, didn't we?”
Drew nodded, in agreement, but didn't speak.
“Oh yes, I'm sure you and Drew took good care of
it,” said Peter, hastily. “But when we returned it had gone. Edith didn't see
anything, as she's been hard at work in the kitchen all day. It'll be some
kids, I'm sure. Anyway, let's not allow it to spoil our evening. Let me
introduce you to a few of our other guests, Meredith.”
She was treated to an array of names that she found
hard to remember. There were two other couples, local landowners as far as
Meredith could make out, and a woman in a tweed trouser suit. Her hair was very
short, almost like a man's, and she smoked a thin cigar.
“Beth Pendragon,” she said, holding her hand out to
Meredith. “Headmistress up at Bedlington Hall.”
“It's nice to meet you.”
“Hear you're going to Willowmead in September.”
“That's right, to teach English,” said Meredith.
“Good school. Can afford to pay well, I'm sure. We
could be better but not much money for staff. Most work for love. Course if we
could attract decent staff, then we could charge more. Then pay more. You see
how it is?”
“Erm … oh yes,” said Meredith, feeling she was on
trial for something, but not quite sure what.
“Short one English teacher. You know what I'm
saying.”
“Yes, I think so,” said Meredith, frowning. Miss
Pendragon's staccato tones were somewhat hard to follow.
“Hard to get one by September.”
“Yes...”
“Let's all eat, shall we,” said Clarice, dragging
Meredith away. “Ignore her, dear. She's always touting for staff. She wanted me
to go back and teach, but now I'm an old married woman, I'm quite happy staying
at home.”
Clarice had excelled herself where dinner was
concerned. A starter of vichysoisse was followed by Dover sole, then a meat
dish of venison, and topped off with a strawberry and crème anglaise flan.
Cheese and biscuits were on offer for those who felt they had not had enough to
eat.
Over the meat dish, Meredith chatted to Clarice. “I
hear that you and Reverend Mortimer met whilst you were teaching at Bedlington
Hall.”
“That's right. It was when we had the fete last
year. I helped him with many of the arrangements.” Clarice's words were
punctuated by Edith slamming down a dish full of vegetables. “Thank you, Edith,”
said Clarice, waving her away. For some reason it made Meredith blush. She
supposed that as she was not used to having servants, she did not know how one
treated them. All the same, she felt a little sorry for Edith. “It was love at
first sight, wasn't it, darling?”
Peter was at the other end of the table. He raised
his glass to his lovely wife and said, 'It most certainly was.”
“Are you from this area?” asked Meredith, despite already
knowing that Clarice's family were from India.
“No, I was brought up in India. Before the
independence, of course. They were magical days.”
Meredith was tempted to suggest that the Indian
population might feel differently, but she liked Clarice, so did not argue the
point.
“And your parents are still out there?”
“No, Mother and Father live in Malta now. The warmer
climate is better for daddy, isn't it, Peter?”
Reverend Mortimer nodded and smiled.
“We called in to see them whilst on our honeymoon.
We visited the Holy Lands, as part of a cruise.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Expensive, I shouldn't wonder,” said Miss
Pendragon.
“Well, yes it was, rather. But you only have one
honeymoon.”
“Reverend didn't. He's been married before,” said
Miss Pendragon. Meredith suppressed a smile. There was something about Miss
Pendragon she liked, despite the woman's abruptness. Or perhaps because of it.
She had the feeling that the headmistress would always be honest, even if the
truth hurt.
“How did you come to be headmistress at Bedlington
Hall?” asked Meredith.
“My uncle lived in the place. Till he was murdered.”
“Colonel Trefusis?” Meredith almost dropped her
glass.
“That's the one.”
“So you're his niece?”
“Said so, didn't I? Saw the place when I came up for
his funeral. Thought it would make a good school. Didn't have the money then.
Got some backers, and returned.”
Meredith wondered whether there was an etiquette
about asking whether someone had inherited a fortune. “Did he leave you the house?”
She knew that Trefusis had rented the property, but could find no other way of
opening up the subject of inheritance.
“No. Rented it. Didn't leave me anything. Left it
all to some girl.”
“Another niece?”
“That's what people thought. But I'm his only niece.
Some young thing wrapped him around her finger, then got all the dosh. Pretty
bad show if you ask me. Never met her. Would have given her a piece of my mind
if I had.”
“What was he like? Colonel Trefusis.”
“Bit of a bad boy in his youth. Travelled the world.
Girl in every port. Women love that. Can't see it myself. Married a girl over in
India. Thought she could tame him. She couldn't. Loved her though. In the only
way he could love. Never got over her death. That’s why he came here. To escape
past.”
“Queenie?” Drew's interruption almost made Meredith
jump again. “He was married to Queenie?”
She remembered the newspaper report. Queenie
Patterson (formerly Trefusis). They'd assumed it was her maiden name.
“That's right. Victoria. Pretty little thing, so I'm
told. She left him for his friend. Never saw that coming. Him being the wild
one. Poor Queenie. Made the wrong choice. Then she got in with the God squad …
sorry Vicar.” Miss Pendragon bowed her head in Peter Mortimer's direction. “One
of those American evangelical groups. Pay us fifty pounds and we'll wipe away
all your sins.”