True Love Ways (6 page)

Meredith's eyes opened wide. She exchanged looks
with Drew, who nodded imperceptibly to let her know he also remembered what
Turner had said to his companion in the train corridor. “What about Bedlington
Hall?” asked Meredith. “Who inherited that?”

“No one as far as I know,” said Edith. “The Colonel
didn't own it. He rented it from the Bedlington estate. The owners live abroad
I think. The other funny thing is that his car was stolen, and they never found
it.”

“Of course,” Meredith said. “I remember that, yet
when I heard Mr Turner say it yesterday, it didn't occur to me that he was
talking about Colonel Trefusis. It's been so long since I thought about the
colonel...”

“Why are you even interested?” asked Edith.

“Oh, you know,” said Meredith. “Just trying to get
some local colour, and fill in a few of the things I've missed by not being here.”

“And what about you?” Edith looked at Drew.

“Same thing. Local colour and all that.”

“Well it's nothing to do with the money going
missing from the church funds, I'm sure. And if you ask me, Reverend
Cunningham, I don't see why you're even looking into that. Peter Mortimer is
the most honest and upright man I've ever met.”

“But the money has gone somewhere, Edith,” said
Drew.

“Maybe it has, maybe it hasn't. But I'm telling you
that he hasn't taken it!” Edith's voice rose a few octaves, so that the teenagers
all turned around to listen.

“Come on,” said Drew, speaking to them all. “Turn
the music up. We'll clear the snooker table out of the way and dance.”

“I don't think you should have to music too loud,
Reverend Cunningham,” said Edith. “Some say it's the devil's music.”

“I don't believe in the devil,” said Drew, ignoring
Edith's stunned expression. “At least not one in a place called hell. There are
more devils walking the earth.”

“What are you thinking about?” he asked Meredith, a
short while later. They were dancing to a Buddy Holly song, called True Love
Ways. Despite her trying to keep a suitable distance, he held her close to him.
It was very disconcerting.

“Religious mania,” said Meredith truthfully.

“I'd hoped you were thinking of me,” he said.

“Maybe I was,” she replied, mischievously. “You're
not like any vicar I've ever met before.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad?”

“I haven't decided yet. You horrify Edith.”

“Good. It might make her think. You can't treat kids
as if they're all products of the original sin, as she does. They need space to
be themselves. There's a saying. If you love someone, let them go. If it's
meant to be, they'll come back. That's how I believe God treats His children.
Never mind how the Bible has been interpreted down the years. I've no time for
all that hellfire and damnation rubbish.”

“My, you must be popular in the Church of England.”

“Why do you think they've put me in this job, which
involves travelling all over the country? It keeps me out of their hair.” They
danced in silence for a while. “Now what are you thinking?” he asked.

“I'm thinking that I like the words to this song.
The way it charts the highs and lows of a love affair.”

“Have you ever found true love, Meredith?”

She shook her head. “No, but I'm not sure I'd even
know what it was if I found it. I'm determined I'm not going to...” She stopped
there, reluctant to share with him her own thoughts on wanting a child born
into a marriage, with two parents who loved it. She hardly dared admit it to
herself most of the time, because she did not want to judge her mother harshly
for the choices she had made. She knew, without Drew having to tell her that
she was lucky compared to Betty, Bert and Jimmy. She'd had the unconditional
love of Aunty Sheila and Aunty Peg, and their constant reminder that she was a
special girl worthy of their love. But she also realised that too many people
who knew about her beginnings judged her in the way that Edith Sanderson did.
She had made a vow to herself many years before that no child of hers would be
born into the same circumstances. So when boyfriends had tried to take the
relationship to the next level, Meredith had pulled away, determined that she
would make no mistakes that could, in the future, impact on a child. In essence
she had switched off the part of herself that responded to men in a romantic way.
It wasn't that she didn't sometimes find men attractive, as she did Drew, but
she never let it go beyond that. She preferred to admire from afar.

“If you ever do think of me, Meredith,” said Drew,
“just try and remember that the dog collar is just an item of clothing. I'm a
man, like any other man.”

It was that fact which frightened her most of all.

After the youth club had closed, Drew walked
Meredith home, whilst they discussed Alfred Turner and what they had learned so
far. It felt nice, walking alongside him. As if they’d known each other
forever.

“I wonder,” said Meredith, “how many more of his
stories joined up. I thought he was talking about different cases, but what if
the part about someone stealing the car, and the twenty thousand pounds are the
same case?”

“I don't see what that’s got to do with Turner being
murdered now,” said Drew.

“It might if the murderer was on the train and
thought he might recognise them. You said that Jimmy stole cars...”

“Yes, but as far as I know, he didn't have a rich
uncle leave twenty thousand pounds to him. Anyway, how long ago is it that this
Trefusis chap was murdered?”

“Just over fourteen years. Aunty Peg was trying to
find out who'd killed him when Aunty Sheila took me away.”

“Jimmy is twenty-four years old. Yes, he might have
started young, but I don't think he was even capable of murdering someone and
driving away a car at the age of ten.”

“But Turner mentioned a child, one he claimed was evil.”

“Jimmy is not evil, Meredith. He's misguided, and a
bit of an idiot sometimes. But he's not evil. Besides, who knows how old the
child that Turner mentioned was? Bear in mind he was an old man. Anyone under
eighteen would be a child to him.”

Meredith had to admit that Drew had a point.  “All
the same I might ask Aunty Peg more about Colonel Trefusis in light of what
we've learned.”

“I think we're in danger of becoming sidetracked,”
said Drew. “But it's up to you, of course.”

“We have to explore all avenues,” said Meredith.

“Fair enough. Now, onto more cheerful subjects. Will
you come out with me for a drink one night?” They had reached the gate to the
constable's cottage.

“What? To talk about the case?”

“If we must, but I really meant you and I. As a man
and woman.”

“A date?” Meredith's heart began to hammer. She felt
she ought to feel safe with Drew, given his career choice, but her physical
response to him told her differently.

“I'm sorry if that's such an unwelcome
suggestion...”

“No, it isn't. I mean … yes, we could go on a date.
It doesn't have to lead anywhere, does it?” Her mouth was so dry, she could
barely get the words out.

He half-laughed, half-sighed, sounding irritated in
the process. “Not at all. In fact, if you have a drink with me just once, I
promise never to darken your doorstep again.”

“I didn't mean...”

“Drew, Drew! Wait.” Betty came hobbling down the
street on her high heels, interrupting them. “Oh Drew, I don't know what to
do.” She threw herself into his arms, sobbing. Meredith didn’t think that was
absolutely necessary, frowning as Drew’s arms encircled the crying girl.

“What is it?”

“It's Jimmy. They've found him over in Shrewsbury
and arrested him. Please come, Drew. He hasn't got anyone else.”

“I'll borrow Reverend Mortimer's car and come
straight away.” Drew seemed to have forgotten Meredith was there.

“I could come and help,” she suggested.

Betty glared at her. “No, not you. You think he
attacked the old geezer. He needs friends around him, not enemies.”

Meredith's face burned scarlet. “I do want to help,”
she said.

“You'd best stay here,” said Drew. “It's not as if
you know Jimmy very well. You're practically a stranger to him.”

Meredith swallowed hard, feeling like she was going
to cry. Then, as was her manner, she pulled herself together. This wasn't about
her feelings. It was about Jimmy and the predicament he was in. “Yes, I
understand,” she said. “But tell Jimmy I'll do my best to find out who the real
attacker is.” Betty need not know that a few minutes before, Meredith had been
convinced it was Jimmy.

“What I'd like to know,” said Peg over a cup of hot
cocoa, “is how Bert knew it was Edith talking to Turner. I can't imagine he
knows her. The youngsters who come up for the strawberry picking aren’t exactly
churchgoers.” The drawing room was dim, illuminated only by the lamplight on
the table next to Peg's chair.

“She denies it anyway,” said Meredith.

“That's not my point, dear. Boys like Bert can be
suggestible. I'd like to know exactly what your Reverend Drew asked him, and
what he replied.”

“You needn't worry, Aunty Peg. Drew is an expert
detective.”

Peg smiled benignly. “He's also a man with a lot of
power over young minds. He's probably too nice a person to realise it.”

Meredith sank down into the armchair. “It's true
they all love him. I'm not doing very well, Aunty Peg. No one likes me or
trusts me enough to tell me their secrets. Edith disapproves of me because she
knows I’m illegitimate and the youngsters just don’t trust me in the way they
trust Drew.”

“You're just a bit too enthusiastic, dear. I was the
same in the beginning. We learn from our mistakes. All you need to learn is how
to listen more to what people are saying. Really listen. Not just to what they
do say, but what they don't say.”

“Yes, but if they clam up on me, what am I supposed
to listen to? Drew is so approachable. Everyone talks to him, even Edith, and
she doesn't approve of him either.” Meredith sipped her cocoa. “I thought I was
a nice person that other people liked until this week. Oh listen to me.” She
put her cup down on the coffee table. “A man has been murdered, and here I am
feeling sorry for myself.” She couldn't explain how low she felt, and she was
not sure all of it was to do with Turner's murder. She wanted Drew to be
impressed with her, but she was also afraid of where that might lead. Common
sense told her that she should be safe with a vicar. Then she remembered how it
had felt being close to him, and his reminder that he was a man like any other
men.

“The Mortimer's seem to like you,” said Peg in a
soothing voice. “Clarice phoned to invite us to dinner on Saturday night, and
was most insistent you go. I shan't be able to attend, but you can. They only
feel bad about me because it was at the vicarage that I broke my ankle. So silly
of me not to watch where I was going on the stairs.”

“Now that's where I do feel guilty. Reverend
Mortimer is such a nice man, and she's absolutely lovely and charming. It seems
wrong to be suspecting them of anything. I know, I know. I shouldn't discount
people just because I like them.”

“Sadly no one is too nice to commit a crime. Anyone
can be pushed over the edge. Assuming they're not over it already.”

“Now then,” said Chalmers, coming into the room and
clapping her hands together. “Are we ready for our bed?”