Tuesday cont.
“Have you got a minute?” he started.
Gary had recovered enough after two hours pacing the streets
to get back to his office and call Cleo.
***
“Sure, Gary.”
Dorothy went into the utility room.
Cleo switched on the speakers.
Dorothy did not want Gary to know she was there,
but listened in to the phone-call with increasing irritation
“Has Chris called you?”
“Yes.”
“So you know about Sybil.”
“Yes.”
Dorothy was glad Cleo was not making it easy for Gary.
“Did you know she was murdered.”
“Yes. Chris told me. He thought you might prefer
not to.”
“She was strangled and found in a store-cupboard
where cleaners keep their stuff.”
Gary sounded repulsed.
“Poor woman.”
“Poor woman, my eye,” Gary snapped. “She was
dressed as a hooker and more than likely in that hotel to have paid sex with a
client. Why else would she go there?”
“Why are you angry, Gary? You knew she was a hooker
when you started dating her.”
“That was Sybil’s past life. She wanted to go
straight for her daughter’s sake.”
“She did go straight for a short time, as
Sybil. But after that she led a double
life as Moira.”
“Many women lead a double life. I’m surprised that
you are surprised.”
“Do you lead a double life, Cleo?”
“I don’t know if anyone else is haunting my mind
and sharing my body, but what do I have to do with it? What does a hooker’s
murder have to do with me? Are you comparing us?”
“I mean living with Robert and seeing someone else
on the side.”
“You must be joking to compare that with dating a has-been
hooker to keep up the illusion of having a girlfriend.”
“Sybil was not a hooker.”
“Moira in Sybil’s body was, Gary, and you knew it
even if she didn’t.”
“You should have warned me,” said Gary.
“If pigs could fly,” retorted Cleo.
“I’m not joking. I’m really talking about us,
Cleo.”
“Did you think I would not understand? You are
trying it on with me, Gary.”
“I’m not trying it on. I’m trying to find out why
she did what she did.”
***
Dorothy was amazed. This was the first time on
record that Gary had wanted to know more about the motive for doing something.
He was not aware that she was listening in, of course, but Cleo was aware of
that.
“I know why,” said Cleo.
“Tell me. No punches barred.”
“Because you are a skunk with women,” said Cleo,
and Gary’s sharp, audible intake of breath confirmed that she had hit the spot.
“You treat us as lust objects or tools, useful
round the house but not on your level.”
“No, I don’t. I love women.”
“Correction; you only love yourself, Gary.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
“Have you thought for one minute what it’s like to
want to change things, lead a normal life, to be a normal parent, Gary? That’s
what Sybil wanted, no more, no less.”
“You are defending a hooker, Cleo.”
“Wrong, Gary. I am defending a woman who has been
abused by men ever since she ran away from home, with the possible exception of
the time she spent with her parents after she lost Anna.”
“But she farmed her kid out to Edith.”
“That was supposed to be temporary while she got a
job and somewhere to live with her little girl.”
“But she had done all that.”
“No, she hadn’t. Not really. She had not convinced
herself. She cared enough about you to be with you until one day she woke
up to the fact that you didn’t really care. You liked having an experienced
woman in your bed, but you were not emotionally involved.”
“I was.”
“Did you show her that?”
“I don’t know. Yes. No. How could I? I could only
make love to her if I pretended to myself that it was you.”
“Then get a rubber doll, Gary. That way you won’t
hurt anyone. Sybil solved the problem by inventing a dual personality that went
out and got paid for her TLC.”
***
Cleo could hear Gary’s sharp intake of breath and
the sob that escaped from his throat, but she pressed on. Gary had asked for
the truth and he was getting it.
“The point is that what you offered her emotionally
was no more than her clients had done in her previous life, and they paid for
her services. So she went back to being appreciated that way.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You’d better. I spent years studying the
psychology of relationships and why they break down. I assure you that what I’m
saying is what happened.”
“I assume your psychology course did not include murder.”
“It did.”
“So why didn’t you tell me all this and warn me?”
“Warn you?”
“Warn me off getting involved with a former
prostitute.”
“You would have laughed the way you ridicule my
efforts as a private sleuth, Gary.”
Dorothy nodded. At last Gary was getting to hear
the truth. He had not known that they were aware of his low opinion of the agency.
“Do I do that?”
“You only come to me in desperation.”
“And you find it convenient being able to use
police resources, Cleo.”
“I think this is stalemate, Gary. Call again when
you have something useful to say.”
***
Cleo slammed the phone down to end the humiliating
slanging match. It was below the belt and she knew it. She was furious: with
herself, with Gary, with everything. Sybil was dead and not a single word of grief
or sadness had she been able to detect in Gary’s voice. He was a selfish
bastard, not the cruelly treated hero he thought he embodied.
Why did she love that guy?
“I’m dropping cooperation with him,” she told
Dorothy. “I’ve never been so disgusted with anyone.”
“Calling him a skunk was not nice, Cleo.”
“It had to be done. Waking him up to his problems
is the only way forward.”
There were tears in Cleo’s eyes. She could not help
telling Dorothy that she liked Gary most of the time, loved him all the time,
and relied on his help as much as he relied on hers.
“If you could stop the love thing between you, it
would help,” said Dorothy, and Cleo looked startled.
“So you knew all about it,” she said.
“Gary told me, Cleo. He is out of his depth
emotionally; he is been forced to take up with other women to keep up
appearances when the only woman he wants is you. I think many men take up with
other women or even with prostitutes because it does not commit them to
anything.”
“Talk about motives, Dorothy! What can I do with myself?
I’m destroying someone I love the way I’ve never loved before. ”
“I wish I had the answer, but I don’t think I even have
the right to have one. I’m playing for both sides, but I’m not a mediator,
Cleo.”
“I think I’m going to have to close down the agency,
Dorothy.”
“Not before you’ve dealt with the business in hand.”
“OK. You’re right there. We’ll drink more coffee,
slice up that gorgeous bread you just happened to have baked, and then get to
the school.”
***
“Let’s not talk any more about Gary, Cleo. You seem
to be getting deeper and deeper into the brine. I’ll cover for you when you
want to be with him, but otherwise, I will stay neutral.”
Cleo put her arms around Dorothy and thanked her.
***
It was difficult to shake off that drastic phone
call with Gary, but Cleo had phoned Mrs Baines to say that they would be on
their way there soon. Before they could leave the office, however, another phone-call
came from Chris. The speakers were still on so Dorothy could listen in. She
cleared up in the utility room kitchen as she did so, but her mind was alert to
what Chris had to say.
“I’m on the way home to bed,” he told Cleo. “I was
in the lab all night and at the hotel till now.”
“Get a good rest, Chris. I’m sure you’ve more than
earned it.”
“Did Gary call?”
“He did and he was expecting you to have told me.”
“Why does that guy leave the dirty work to others?”
“I don’t know, but I tore such a large strip off
him for his attitude to Sybil and women in general that I think the scowl on
his face will get stuck there.”
“Your words will have hit him harder than Sybil’s
death, or is it Moira’s, knowing how he feels about you.”
“So you’re someone else who knows, are you Chris?”
“I am, Cleo,” said Chris. “Gary has never said
anything concrete, but I think he latched on to Sybil to distract himself from
his feelings for you.”
“I didn’t know a man could understand so well.”
“Some men can. It’s not a good idea to generalize.”
“I agree, Chris. I’ll have to find a way to make it
up to Gary. I have really hurt him and now I’m sorry.”
“Go to him. What’s stopping you?”
“I’m married, Chris.”
“To the wrong guy, if I may say so. I watched you
at that supper, Cleo. Robert likes having you around, but that’s not love.”
“How do you know that?”
“You are not the only one into psychology, Cleo.”
“Point taken. Moira alias Sybil’s murder was a
tragedy waiting to happen.”
“Yes,” said Chris. “I often wonder why more
prostitutes don’t get killed in the line of duty.”
***
“How did you get on at the hotel? Surely you have
nothing binding already from this morning’s hiatus!”
“I’m going to email you what I have so far, which
isn’t much yet. I’ll have to find out if she was drugged, for instance. I’ll
include the latest on the Oldfield killing, too. I don’t suppose you’ve had
that data from Gary.”
“No. He’s quick to demand attention and slow to
award it,” said Cleo bitterly.
“He’s been sitting on that information since Friday,
blast him.”
“Thanks, Chris.”
“The details are the results of investigating the
school, the priory crypt, and all the fingerprints of various ‘contributors’.
You’re in for one or two surprises!”
“I can’t wait!”
“I’m also sending you the result of the blood tests
on Mrs Oldfield. You should have had it before now.”
“That is extremely annoying. A little bird tells me
that our favourite Chief Inspector wants to get concrete results himself before
having to include my agency.”
“That’s really mean of him because you are involved
anyway, Cleo.”
“Gary would like to think I’m not and I’m going to
close this place down soon so that he can’t do that anymore.”
“Don’t spoil a good thing, Cleo. You are involved,
of course, and on record more successful at getting things done than he is.
Everyone knows that.”
“That’s what’s bugging him, I think, though he’s
glad when someone does the work for him. How the hell Gary got off the beat is
what I’d like to know.”
“Peter’s principle. He was a first rate bobby, but
people get promoted until they are in a job they can’t do, especially if admin
is involved,” said Chris.
“But I can’t keep helping him if he doesn’t make an
effort himself, Chris.”
“He might not be able to make that effort. He’s
emotionally all snarled up, Cleo.”
“Come to dinner tonight, Chris, then we can talk
some more.”
“May I bring someone?”
“Sure. I’ll phone Robert and he’ll produce
something scrumptious for us.”
“Thanks!”
“Good night, Chris!”
***
“Good night?” Dorothy repeated, when Cleo had put
the phone down.
“Chris has been working all night and on Moira’s
murder this morning, so he’s tired and needs a good night’s sleep, even if it
late morning.. Come to dinner too, Dorothy. He’ll be there and is and he’s bringing
someone. The more the merrier.”
“What a good idea!”
Cleo phoned Robert at the shop and said they would
be 5 for dinner.
“Six,” said Robert. “I’ve just invited your mother.
She says she's too busy to cook.”
“Well, why not? I’m glad you get on so well with
your garrulous assistant.”
Robert laughed heartily, but could not resist
asking who was coming.
“Not Gary. Chris.”
“Good.”
“I gave Gary a piece of my mind this morning.”
“Which piece?”
“The get stuffed piece.”
“I’m impressed – and relieved!”
Why relieved?”
“Less stress,” said Robert.
“I’m going to the school with Dorothy now."
"Don’t drink or eat anything! Better safe than
sorry.”
***
Next, and without consulting Dorothy beforehand,
Cleo phoned Mrs Baines and told her that she had a client and would come later.
Then, to Dorothy’s surprise, she phoned Gary and said she was on the way to
Romano’s. Could he please meet her there?”
Dorothy announced that she would go to the school
by herself. Cleo told her she might have to. Dorothy was perplexed.
***
Half an hour later, Cleo let herself into Romano’s
apartment and went into the bedroom. Gary was lying face down and motionless on
the bed. Cleo lay down next to him and put her arms round him. He turned to her
and buried his face on her breast. They lay like that for an hour, wordless and
motionless.
Finally Cleo stroked across his forehead with a
finger. After a while Gary opened his eyes and smiled at her. She smiled back.
“Forgive me,” he said.
“I should be saying that,” said Cleo. “I’m so sorry
for the terrible things I said.”
“Most of them were true.”
“But I had no right to say them.”
“You had every right,” said Gary. “You are my wife,
after all.”
“Not yet Gary, and our dialogue now is worse than
the worst soap opera.”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really. Your hands are cold.”
“I could use some of your warmth, Cleo.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“You might not want to get mixed up with someone
who was friendly with a hooker, but I swear I didn’t go near her when she was
Moira, and I only felt protective of Sybil. Nothing more.”
“I’m not asking you to swear anything, Gary. I came
because you need me.”
“Can you stay for a bit?”
“Sure. I need you, too.” Je t’aime, Mr Hurley.”
“Moi aussi, Miss Hartley. »
***
Cleo did not get back to her cottage until late
afternoon. She phoned Dorothy and Dorothy said she would come immediately. She
had told Mrs Baines that they might have
to postpone their visit.
“You could have gone alone, Dorothy.”
“What happened to you, Cleo?”
“We lay on Romano’s guest bed for a long time. I’ve
never seen Gary so upset and I was responsible, at least in part. I felt more
like his grandmother, at least for the first hour. But he was also suffering
from shock, Dorothy. I had to go to him.”
“You did the right thing, Cleo. You don’t need to
justify yourself.”
“I don’t think I need to with you, Dorothy. I can’t
really understand myself, let alone justify leaving Gary to his own devices. He
looked suicidal, Dorothy. I would never have forgiven myself if I had driven
him to such lengths.”
“But he didn’t Cleo. You went to him and pulled him
back.”
“I hope I did,” said Cleo.
“Let’s read Chris’s report on the school now,” said
Dorothy. “There might be something in there that we need to know before we go
there.”
***
Cleo realized that it was time to move on. She
could not beleaguer Dorothy with her emotions all the time.
“You’re so right!” she agreed. “Chris said we’d be
surprised so I’m sure we will. He was quite excited about the findings. I’ll
print them out twice, shall I?”
Each for herself, they read the contents of the
various reports with increasing incredulity.
“Mrs Oldfield was poisoned with arsenic consumed
over several weeks,” Dorothy read aloud.
“That means it could have been suicide, Dorothy.
But she was given a killer dose that morning and died very quickly.”
“It sounds to me like premeditated, cold-blooded murder,”
said Dorothy. “There are much better ways of committing suicide. I don’t
believe for one minute that Mrs Oldfield knew there was a build-up of arsenic
in her body.”
“So it was
someone close enough not to have aroused suspicion,” said Cleo. “There’s a note
here that Chris used a water test. I’ve no idea what that is. I’ll look it up
on the web. It’s not the only thing I don’t know about arsenic.”
***
After some minutes Cleo read out that you could put
arsenic in any food or drink without it being detected. She would spare them
the chemical nitty-gritty. All the testing was about chemical reactions.
“So it could have been anybody close enough to get
at her food or drink regularly,” said Dorothy. “That narrows the field considerably.”
“It could just be a desperate person working
towards the death of Mrs Oldfield, watching her survive but complaining of
feeling unwell after getting a smaller dose of the deadly drug over a period of
several weeks,” said Cleo.
“But whoever it was, was in a hurry,” said Dorothy, “hence that mammoth
dose that was bound to kill Mrs Oldfield in one go.“
“I think that whoever poisoned the cook must have
known exactly what arsenic does when given in small doses,” said Cleo. “That
sort of cunning is usually a woman’s work.”
“But that person became impatient.”
Dorothy shuddered. The more they talked about it,
the more terrible did the crime become.
“The best bit of trivia about arsenic is the
information that it used to be called the ‘inheritance powder’ in France,
presumably because it was the best method of disposing of unwanted relatives,”
said Cleo.
“Or getting someone’s job?”
“Which points to Jessie,” said Cleo.
“But where would she get arsenic from?”
“Chris says that the reason the arsenic was detected
so fast was indeed a massive dose Mrs Oldfield took the day she died. Otherwise
she would have had symptoms like in food-poisoning, alopecia and so on for
quite some time rather than falling into a coma as she did before dying.”
“That confirms what I remember from one movie. In
that movie slow arsenic poisoning included symptoms like those of Malaria,”
said Dorothy. “I wonder if Mrs Oldfield consulted a doctor about milder
symptoms.”
“Probably not. Or the doctor told her to take
aspirin and not to drink tap-water."
“Aren’t you confusing that with lead poisoning,
Cleo? That’s apparently what led to the fall of Rome.”
“We could find out.”
"Only if her doctor is prepared to break his
vow of confidentiality," said Dorothy. “And I don’t think Dr Mitchell would
do that.”
“Assuming he was her doctor,” said Cleo.
“He’s everyone’s doctor round here,” said Dorothy.
“That business of confidentiality is tricky in
criminal cases, of course. Not even the police can force a doctor to reveal
facts about his patients."
“But surely he can be ordered to by a judge if there is
sufficient justification,” said Dorothy.
“I don’t think we should reveal the true cause of
Mrs Oldfield’s death right now,” said Cleo. “Anything that could warn an
offender should be avoided.”
“That would include Mrs Baines, of course.”
“Making her a suspect.”
“She’s
certainly have opportunity, Cleo. I think she’s in charge of the coffee
machine.”
“What about Jessie, Dorothy? If she has a normal or
even above-average IQ, she could well have worked out the murder plot. Being
classed a nitwit has its uses.”
“Whoever decided Mrs Oldfield had to go, chose a
relatively easy method, except that panic seems to have taken over at the end,”
said Dorothy..
“So let’s think! What else can you use arsenic for,
apart from poisoning unwanted persons?” said Cleo.
“What about insecticides is? I didn’t read the
labels on mine, for a long time, but should have done. I use non-poisonous ones
now,” said Dorothy.
Cleo looked for a website on gardening, which she eventually
bookmarked for future reference.
“Right in one! According to this website, gardeners
definitely have access to it.”
“Tom Crowe was a gardener,” said Dorothy. “What
if...?
“I don’t suppose he gets in the kitchen very often.
But what if someone else accessed that supply? Jessie or Mrs Oldfield, or that
rabble-raiser girl who constantly complained about the food?”
“It doesn’t bear thinking about. What if Jessie is
guilty after all and tries to poison Ali with the same motivation?” said
Dorothy-
“We’d better get moving, Dorothy. We’ll have to
warn him before anything happens.”
"Or get Jessie away, if it isn't too
late."
"It's only his third day at the school,
Dorothy. If Jessie is in the poison game, she's probably still weighing up her
options - and she has said she no longer wants Mrs Oldfield's job."
"I don't believe her. She's half way there,”
said Dorothy. “She won't give up now."
***
“I’m more
and more convinced that it was Jessie, ”
said Dorothy on the drive to the school.
“So am I, but how do we get her to own up?”
“Not by questioning her straight on.”
“She’s had time to dispose of any evidence,” said
Cleo. “If she had the criminal energy to administer poison for weeks and weeks
to someone, she’ll certainly have had enough momentum to cover her tracks after
giving the poor woman a lethal dose. We need to think about Jessie’s character,
Dorothy. What makes her tick?”
“She is not as brainless as she would have us
think, so let’s start with that incident in the crypt. Do you think she was
forced to go there by her father? Wasn’t he taking a big risk staying around?”
“I think he was sure Jessie would not tell on him
because she was scared of him. One big question is whether Coppins himself was
involved in the Oldfield killing,” said Cleo. “That’s why I think it’s
important to focus on all the Coppins clan and in particular get Jessie to tell
us what happened that night. If you ask me, he is involved in all the crimes we
are investigating.”
“Do you think Jessie knows where he is now and is
too scared to tell?”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised, Dorothy.”
“So why is Jessie so scared? She could turn him in.”
“When we know what motivated Jessie, we’ll be a lot
nearer knowing the truth, Dorothy.”
“Who would have thought such an uneducated girl could be
capable of even one monstrous act!” said Dorothy.
“Since she has proved to you that she is far from stupid, we
will have to change our approach. I’m going to phone Greg, Dorothy. He may have
some new ideas.”
Greg Winter was most enthusiastic about what Cleo wanted to
do.
“Between you and me, Cleo, Gary Hurley’s has too much
private stress at the moment.”
“Which stress do you mean, Greg?”
“Haven’t you heard about Sybil?”
“Of course, but Gary is not subject to romantic breakdowns.”
“He’s had one now.”
“Do they know who killed her?”
“They think it was the guy she met in a bar. She went with
him to the hotel and that’s where they found her.”
“The problem is that I’m at loggerheads with, Gary Greg. We
had a big quarrel about Sybil’s death. I’m afraid I blamed him for neglecting
her.”
“He probably did, but not because he didn’t care about her.
His affections are locked in elsewhere, Cleo, and we both know where.”
“I supposed you notice everything, don’t you.”
“I try.”
“I noticed how observant you are and I’d like you to spend
the night with me, Greg.”
“What the hell....”
“I put that badly. Dorothy Price will be there as well.”
“A cosy threesome with an old lady and a newly-wed?”
“In a dark place.”
“You’ve really got me now,” said Greg.
“I’m pulling your leg, Greg.”
“Pull the other one. I’m out of my depth.”
“OK. The dark place is the Monkton Priory crypt, and the
idea is to spend a night observing whether a guy with murky morals sleeps
there.”
“Is this connected with the other incident?”
“I think so. The guy has been missing for ages, but
I’m sure that he is back around here somewhere. Chris found evidence of him
having been in several places connected with the present run on crime here.”
“Why doesn’t he just go home, assuming he has a family?”
“I don’t think he’s welcome there. Do you have time
tonight?”
“What time do you need me?
“Midnight, would be good. By then no one is around, even
couples looking for a private place. Can
you drive to Dorothy Price’s house? We should go on foot from there.”
“That won’t make it easy to arrest anyone.”
“We can cross that bridge when we come to it, Greg.”
“OK. Should I come in uniform?”
“Better not, but bring some handcuffs. If we do catch the
guy, I’d really like to turn him in.”
“On what charge?”
“Desertion, withdrawal of alimony from his dependents, and
possibly murder. In fact, I’m acting for his son, who would love to have him
back, so it’s a Hartley Agency job.”
“I’ll bring cuffs, sign for a gun and register the activity
as official and dangerous, Cleo. That’s better for the insurance. Gary won’t find
out until tomorrow. By then it'll be over, and if we’re lucky the guy will be
in the bag.”
“I hope you are right, Greg.”
The evening flew by. Robert was again out at some sporting even or other, though she would have
liked him to help in this action. Cleo reread all the reports Chris had sent.
The most extraordinary finding was the comparison of finger prints.
Joseph Coppins had been at the school, probably on the day
of the murder. He had also been in the crypt, as his daughter had admitted, and
which had given Chris new prints to compare, and – most damning of all – a
thumb print was found on the knife that had stabbed Tom Crowe.
***
When Robert came home from his match, beaming because he was
on the road to becoming county champion, he was greeted by a jubilant Cleo. He
had brought a tray of T-bone steaks and several fresh sweet corn cobs to cook
for the guests.
“What are you going to do with all that? Did Gloria baby-sit
the shop if you match was this afternoon?”
“I did tell you, but you weren’t listening.”
“Sorry.”
“We have a dinner party in exactly one hour, Cleo. Have you
forgotten?”
“Oh my goodness! The dinner party!”
“Has something happened?”
Cleo did not mention Sybil’s fate.
“I’ve arranged for Greg Winter to meet us at Dorothy’s at Midnight.
We’re going to the crypt to watch out for Coppins.”
“Do I know Greg Winter?”
“He’s the patrol cop who isn’t afraid of ghosts and is the only
one who could match you in stature.”
“Did Gary arrange that?”
“No. I‘m not going to consult Gary in future.”
“I can’t say I’m sorry, Cleo, but what will that mean for
the agency?”
“I’ve no idea. I’ll take it day by day and see what happens.
My first priority is to see Mrs Oldfield’s murderer behind bars and I think
Coppins is involved.”
“What about Jessie?”
“She’s in deep, muddy water, Robert.”
“So what do we do with the dinner party?”
“Go ahead with it. Chris will understand and maybe decide to
join us in our tryst at the crypt, Gloria will have to make do, and Dorothy
knows all about our need to catch Coppins as soon as possible.”
“Why doesn’t Gary look for him?”
“That’s what I keep asking myself.”
***
While Cleo was making notes to gain more clarity in her
thinking, Dorothy had left the crime world for an hour or two and was at St
Peter’s waiting for Mr Morgan to arrive after he had phoned and said he was in
a traffic jam. Eventually his little black old-timer chugged up the drive and
he hurried into the church.
“Nice to see you again, Miss Price.”
“Thank you for coming Mr Morgan. Have you considered our
offer?”
The ‘our’ was not strictly true. The vicar knew nothing
about their meeting and had no idea that Dorothy was planning to give Mr Morgan
the job if he wanted it.
“Yes, Miss Price, and I’ll take it.”
“I am relieved. You are such a good organist, Mr Morgan.”
“Where can I live?”
“I’ve solved that problem, but Delilah Browne will let you
lodge in one of the guest rooms at the bistro.”
“Can I afford it?”
“Of course. You’ll have plenty of money to spare, Mr Morgan.
You can lodge at my cottage for a week or two first because Mitch – that’s
Delilah’s boyfriend – is going to renovate the room for you.”
“And I won’t have to do that myself?”
“No. You can save your hands for your organ-playing.”
“I don’t know how to thank you, Miss Price. It’s been hell
with my mother. She’s a fusspot and she doesn’t like my jeans.”
“We all get like that as we get older, Mr Morgan, though
personally I think the jeans look good.”
“Thank you. When can I start?”
“When can you come?”
“I’ll have to go back to Wales for my clothes and music
scores.”
“Can you be here for the service next Sunday?” Dorothy asked
him. “You could come secretly on Saturday and then surprise everyone.”
“I’d like that, Miss Price.”
“You can park your car in front of my cottage and you can
play my piano if you want to.”
“It sounds like paradise! Can I just have a little tinkle on
the organ now?”
“Better not, Mr Morgan. Edith might hear you and come over,.
That would spoil our surprise. I hope she hasn’t seen your car.”
“She can’t have. She would come over if she had.”
“Or she is too shy, Mr Morgan.”
“You’re right. I’ll get going now. Thank you again.”
Mr Morgan opened his music satchel and took out a tiny box
of chocolates.
“These are for you, Miss Price. I hope you’ll enjoy them.”
“I’m sure I will. Thank you for coming to the rescue.”
"Rescue?"
"I mean taking the job, Mr Morgan!"
"Don't mention it, Miss Price."
Mr Morgan, himself overcome by his own generosity, backed
his car precariously down the church drive, revved up as if he were driving a
Ferrari, and bowled down the road.
Mr Morgan had the whole journey back Wales via country roads
to consider how he was going to break the news to his mother. There would be
another tearful scene and she would wail bitterly that he was leaving her. But
he was coming back to his beloved old organ at St Peter’s. They would stump up
the cash to renovate the instrument and best of all he would be near Edith – or
was it her twin sister Clare he had last been partial to?
***
All the dinner guests arrived punctually for seven. Robert
had cooked dinner and Cleo had tidied up and laid the table. Gloria had been to
the off-licence, as instructed by Robert, and arrived back bearing a couple of bottles of sturdy Catalonian
red wine. Dorothy arrived bearing an apple strudel she said she had merely
‘knocked up’, and finally Chris arrived with Jenny Smith.
Robert was quite surprised to see Chris with Jenny. Cleo and
Dorothy had suspected it for some time, although Cleo thought he would turn up
with a guy. Maybe he was partial to both genders.
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