Iris had just begun to clear up in the cafe. She used to give herself a good fifteen minutes to pack up, but just lately she’d needed a little more time. She was getting slower and there was so much to do. She had to wipe all the tables and sometimes the chairs as well. People left crumbs everywhere. The children were the worst. They thought nothing of putting their jammy hands all over the backs of the chairs or hiding bits of pie behind the menu. After she’d cleaned them all, she had to wipe down the shelves and remove any stale buns. The sinks had to be scoured and the teapot emptied. After a busy day, it was hard going, and she couldn’t even put her feet up when she got home because there was Mother to see to.
The cafe was open from seven-thirty to five, and it irritated her when someone came in five minutes before closing time, but somebody always did. The doorbell jangled at ten to five.
‘We’re closed,’ she said sharply. She was bending down to put the empty milk bottles in the crate ready for the milkman in the morning.
‘We know,’ said a gentle voice. ‘That’s why we’ve come to see you.’
She rose to her feet to see Pip and Stella in the doorway.
‘Could we have a word?’ said Pip.
‘Of course,’ said Iris, flustered and surprised.
‘Mind if I wheel the baby in?’ asked Stella.
‘Not at all,’ said Iris. ‘Be my guest.’
‘We’ve something important to tell you and Mr Knight and Betty,’ Pip went on.
‘They’ll be here in a minute,’ said Iris. ‘They always help me finish up.’
Pip held the door and Stella wheeled Timothy Michael inside. ‘I remember Lillian telling me that once,’ she said.
The expression on Iris’s face didn’t alter. As she took the empty milk bottles outside, Pip whispered to Stella, ‘She doesn’t know.’
‘We heard about that old house collapsing and your boy being inside,’ said Iris. ‘Is he all right?’
Pip nodded. ‘Yes, thank you. He’s back home now and will recover fully given time.’
They could hear Betty rolling down the shutter on the ticket office, and a moment or two later, she joined Iris behind her counter. At virtually the same moment, Mr Knight came into the shop and turned the sign on the door before locking it behind him. He jumped when he saw Timothy Michael’s pram tucked away in the corner.
‘Mrs Sinclair and Mrs Bell have something to say to us,’ said Iris. She had made a fresh pot of tea and was pouring everyone a cup. Pip reached for her handbag and purse, but Iris shook her head. ‘On the house,’ she said brusquely. ‘So what’s this all about?’
Pip glanced at Stella, but she avoided eye contact.
‘We’ve come about Lillian,’ Pip began.
‘What’s the little minx been up to now?’ Mr Knight said acidly.
His remark took both of them by surprise. ‘Why do you say that?’ Stella asked. ‘I thought you were an admirer of hers.’
‘I’m very disappointed in that girl,’ said Mr Knight. ‘I had her down as a good wife and mother, but I’ve changed my mind.’ He was busy doing up the buttons on his coat. ‘I’m afraid I shan’t be stopping for my tea tonight, Mrs Keegan,’ he added stiffly.
‘Mr Knight,’ Pip called as he returned to the door, ‘please don’t go. This is very important.’
‘Anything you have to say about Mrs Harris is of no concern to me,’ he said huffily. ‘I wash my hands of her.’ He turned to unlock the door.
‘Mr Knight, Lillian is dead.’
Everyone in the room froze.
‘Oh no, no!’ cried Betty.
Iris took in her breath noisily. ‘Dead? What do you mean, dead? What happened?’
Mr Knight turned slowly. His face was white.
‘We found her,’ said Pip, her eyes beginning to fill.
‘She was dead in her bed,’ said Stella, slipping her arm through Pip’s and giving her an encouraging squeeze. ‘And her husband, Gordon, has been arrested for her murder.’
There was a collective gasp. Mr Knight came back to the counter.
‘Sweet Jesus,’ said Iris, crossing herself. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘We came because we weren’t sure if you knew,’ said Pip. ‘You’ve always been such faithful followers of hers.’
Mr Knight lowered himself into a chair. ‘Gordon arrested, you say?’
Pip laid a gentle hand on Mr Knight’s shoulder. He seemed genuinely shocked and surprised. She could feel his body trembling under his coat. ‘When did you last see her?’
‘At the Connaught,’ he mumbled. ‘She was magnificent.’
‘I stopped going when I saw her kissing that Monty bloke,’ said Betty.
‘They all do that,’ said Ron dismissively. ‘It’s show business.’
‘Well I was very upset about it,’ said Betty. ‘First the pianist and then that Monty. It isn’t right, I tell you. I mean, she’s a married woman.’
‘With a child,’ Iris interjected.
‘But you both came to the street party to hear the Sussex Sisters for the last time,’ said Stella.
Mr Knight looked slightly awkward.
‘Ron and I only went there because he was going to give her a piece of his mind,’ Betty interjected.
‘Hush, woman,’ Mr Knight snapped. He glanced over at Pip. ‘Betty always told me she was a wrong-un but I didn’t want to believe it, see?’
‘What made you change your mind?’ asked Stella.
‘Gordon told me she wanted a divorce,’ he said bitterly, his lip curling. ‘You women, you’re all the same. That man gave the best years of his life to serve king and country and when he comes home, she tosses him aside like an old rag.’
‘I’m sorry she’s gone,’ said Iris tossing her head, ‘but I for one won’t be shedding a tear.’
‘I admit I was annoyed with her,’ said Ron, recovering slightly, ‘but I don’t want to speak ill of the dead.’
Pip’s eyes went to the lapel on Betty’s coat. The material on the left side was slightly faded, and then she remembered the brooch. Obviously Betty had dropped it again. Pip knew she had seen it quite recently, but where?
‘I can’t take it in,’ said Mr Knight, shaking his head. ‘Mrs Harris, Lillian gone?’ His eyes were watery. ‘In the beginning, I tried to look out for her. There are some weird people about these days, and being in the public eye, a woman as good-looking as that can attract all sorts. I never told her, but I often used to stand in the alley behind her house until she’d gone to bed. Just keeping her safe, that’s all.’
‘Like a father to her, he was,’ said Betty.
‘I did it a couple of times after he got back,’ Mr Knight went on.
‘Gordon?’ said Pip.
Mr Knight nodded glumly. ‘I heard the rows they had. Terrible, they were. It wasn’t right.’ He paused. ‘How did he do it?’
‘Her head was battered,’ said Stella. ‘She’d obviously been sick in the night and choked on her own vomit. When we found her in the morning, she was quite cold.’
Pip watched as Betty’s eyes grew wide and she pressed her handkerchief to her mouth. All at once, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. ‘You were there too, weren’t you, Mrs Shrimpton?’ she said. ‘At Lillian’s place.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Betty haughtily.
‘Don’t deny that you were in the house,’ said Pip. ‘I know you were. You left a calling card.’
Betty’s hand trembled as she looked around helplessly. ‘She was alive when I left her,’ she protested loudly. ‘She was a bit dazed, but she was talking to me.’
The room had gone very quiet.
Betty began twisting her handkerchief in her hand. She turned to Pip and Stella. ‘He thought the world of that girl and there she was, playing around with other men, acting like a tramp and behaving like some sort of prima donna on the stage. Well, I wasn’t having it. Somebody had to tell her what’s what. It was disgraceful.’ She looked helplessly at Mr Knight. ‘I only did it for you.’
‘Exactly what did you do?’ asked Pip.
‘I went in the back way so that I didn’t draw too much attention,’ said Betty. ‘She invited me in, but then she saw the mud on my shoes, so we only stayed in the kitchen and I told her off.’
‘Then you hit her,’ said Stella.
‘No, I didn’t,’ cried Betty. ‘That pulley thing fell down. It gave us both a shock. It was all skew-whiff, so when it fell, it hit her on the side of the head and she slipped on the floor. She went down with such a whack, and she hit her head on the handle of the oven door.’ Betty looked from one to the other. ‘I helped her up and she said she’d be all right.’
Timothy Michael began to stir. Stella went to rock the pram.
‘You should have got a doctor,’ said Iris.
‘I was going to,’ Betty protested, ‘but she said, “Just help me to bed and I’ll be fine.” So that’s what I did.’
‘And you dropped your brooch on the stair,’ said Pip.
Betty’s hand automatically went to her lapel and her face reddened. ‘She was fine when I left her,’ Betty insisted.
‘Tell us what happened next,’ said Stella from the back of the room. ‘When you left the house.’
‘I couldn’t bear to go back out through the kitchen,’ said Betty, ‘so I opened the front door. Trouble is, it’s got a funny catch and it wouldn’t close properly.’ She plonked herself down on a chair and burst into tears. ‘I never laid a finger on her, I swear.’
Nobody moved.
‘All she had was a bump on the head,’ Betty protested. ‘She said she’d have a bit of a sleep and then get undressed, so I pulled the eiderdown over her shoulders and left her to it.’ Her gaze went back to Mr Knight. ‘I never meant her no harm. I admit I was angry, but I never touched her. I just wanted her to know how much she’d upset you.’
‘Mrs Shrimpton,’ said Stella, ‘you have to tell the police.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t,’ said Betty. ‘I just couldn’t.’
‘But you must,’ said Pip. ‘Gordon Harris has been accused of her murder. They’ll hang him for sure if they find him guilty, and in that case, poor little Flora will have lost both her mother and her father.’
‘But I didn’t do anything,’ Betty wailed.
‘For God’s sake,’ Mr Knight snapped. ‘All you have to do is tell the truth, you silly woman.’
‘I only did it for you,’ she complained.
‘I don’t need looking after,’ he said stubbornly as he stood to go.
‘Gordon Harris is a good man,’ said Pip. ‘He doesn’t deserve this. Don’t you think he’s suffered enough?’
Once again the room went quiet.
‘I’ll go with you, if you like,’ said Stella.
Betty wiped her eyes with her sodden handkerchief.
Nobody spoke, but a couple minutes later, Iris was alone in the cafe. She locked the door one more time and turned back to the counter. No one had drunk so much as a mouthful of the tea she’d poured, so she tipped it all away and washed up the five cups. She emptied the washing-up bowl and hung the dishcloth on the hook to dry. Then taking a deep breath, she turned to face the wall and allowed her tears to fall.