The clamour outside had faded. Presumably the boys had found their way out of Ellie’s garden and either down the alleyway past the backs of the houses or on to the Green around the church. Neither Denis or Diana appeared worried about what the children might be up to, and Ellie wasn’t going to remind them.
Denis was thoughtful. ‘I suppose that might do, Diana. On easy terms. I assume, Mrs Quicke, that you’ll let us put a For Sale board up outside your house for a while — just to get our names known in the area.’
Ellie was beginning to distrust his smile. ‘You assume wrongly. A business arrangement is all I’m prepared to offer. Take it or leave it.’
‘I’ll take it,’ said Diana, with a poor grace. ‘Come along, Denis. We’ve got work to do. Best dump the kids back at your place first. Frank, do you want to stay here with Granny?’
‘Ess,’ said Frank, pressing even closer to Ellie.
Ellie stroked his forehead. ‘He can stay the night, but you’ll have to collect him by ten tomorrow, as I’ve arranged to go out for the day after that. Frank dear, go and get yourself washed, and we’ll see what we can cook up for supper, shall we?’
Diana shrugged. Denis thanked Ellie for all her help, and still smiling, wafted himself down the garden, calling for his boys.
‘Kiss, kiss,’ said Diana to Frank, who permitted the peck on his cheek, and then ran upstairs, presumably to get out of the way of the horde of boys who presently came rampaging back up the garden, through the house and out of the front door.
‘Bye bye,’ Diana said to Ellie, and slammed the front door after her.
Peace and quiet. Ellie sank back into her chair and closed her eyes. The sprinkler outside made a soothing sound. Midge came back, to sit on the coffee table and give himself a good wash. Presently she heard the muted sound of little Frank playing on his games console upstairs.
Life was gradually returning to normal. Mrs Alexis’ face flashed before Ellie’s eyes once more, and once more was driven back. It wasn’t over yet.
* * *
Even after a good night’s sleep, Ellie felt sluggish. Some younger folk might be able to take getting firebombed in their stride, but Ellie was not one of their number. Frank perked up no end, but Ellie had to struggle to appear bright and cheerful.
Felicity rang, to ask how Ellie was and to say that she and Roy were planning to speak to Thomas about their wedding after the service today. It would be a small affair, Felicity thought; just a few close friends, with a reception at Miss Quicke’s, which that lady had insisted upon. Felicity said she rather thought of asking Kate to be matron of honour, which was obviously the right thing to do but gave Ellie a twinge of regret.
‘We know it’s all thanks to you,’ said Felicity. Which made Ellie feel better.
What she really wanted to do was to sit in her garden, doing nothing and trying to think of nothing, but instead she had to cook a proper breakfast for herself and Frank, and see that they were both clean and tidy, ready to be collected before ten o’clock. Luckily Diana called for him dead on time. Without being reminded, for the first time Frank lifted his face for a kiss on leaving, and said, ‘Thank you for having me.’ Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
As Diana drove away, Bill drew up in front of the house. Ellie picked up her bag and pulled the front door to behind her. It seemed all wrong to be getting into Bill’s car and driving away from her own church, but she’d agreed to go, and she wasn’t the sort to break her promises.
Bill asked her if she’d tidied up her last little adventure satisfactorily, and she said, ‘Almost,’ and that was all he wanted to know about it. She knew that if she married him, she’d have to give up interfering in other people’s lives. At the moment she felt that would be a good thing, but she suspected that tomorrow she’d feel differently. She hoped that tomorrow she’d feel differently.
Bill’s church was older than the one she had gone to most of her life. It was beautiful, very up to date inside, with individual chairs and a look of prosperity. It had a paid choir and a better-than-usual organist. The church was pretty full and the sermon was thoughtful.
The congregation were mostly well dressed. It was a very smart church.
Everything was as it should be, and nothing felt right. Ellie told herself that it was all her fault that she wasn’t getting anything out of it. She was out of sorts. Tired.
She longed for the slightly muddly choir that she’d been singing in since Frank died, and the worn, slightly dusty pews of her own church. She missed the eccentricities of some of the older, less well-off and sometimes plain dotty parishioners. She missed the warmth. No one at her church minded if someone came in wearing odd shoes — but they’d be worried and try, tactfully or otherwise, to find out if anything was wrong and even try to do something about it.
Of course, ‘trying to do something about it’ usually meant asking Thomas to have a word with . . . whoever.
Thomas, who was on call even on his days off.
Bill took her elbow at the end of the service and steered her into the church hall where they had coffee in good china cups — how posh! Ellie smiled and smiled, and said ‘hello’ and all the right things. David Webb and Janetta were there, and made all the right noises. Bill Two wasn’t there, nor Cilla.
‘Now for lunch,’ said Bill, indicating they should make their way across to the restaurant. ‘I’ve asked David and Janetta to join us, returning their hospitality.’
What could Ellie do but smile and say ‘How delightful!’ while wishing he hadn’t done it. If he’d asked her first . . . but there, that was men all over. Her late husband had always assumed she’d go along with his plans, and so had Roy during his half-hearted courtship of her.
And now she knew — even if Bill didn’t — that she was going to shed yet another aspirant for her hand in marriage. Ay di me!
She smiled through lunch, and listened to the men talking, and wondered how Janetta contrived to keep an even tan all over. Did she visit a sun-bed emporium or whatever they were called? Didn’t they give you skin cancer? Did Janetta care, so long as she looked good?
Bill took her home. ‘Come in for a bit?’ she asked, meaning that she wanted to talk to him, quietly, at her own pace.
He checked his watch. ‘I thought I might get in a round of golf this afternoon.’
‘Ah.’ It was the last straw. ‘Well, what I wanted to say was, that this is not going to work. I’m very, very fond of you. But I’d like us to go back to the way we were, seeing one another now and then, going out for the day together sometimes, that sort of thing?’
He turned in his seat to face her. ‘But Ellie, I thought we were doing fine. You know I’ve wanted to marry you for years, and we’re only just beginning to explore a deeper relationship.’
‘What I think is, that you want to marry the woman I used to be when Frank died. Only I’ve changed since then. I’ve grown up a bit, I suppose, and made new friends, made a busy life for myself, and — let’s face it — you really wish I hadn’t changed and that I didn’t have anything else to do but be your companion in life.’
‘Well, you’d hardly continue chasing criminals once we were married, would you?’
‘There’s two criminal trials coming up, Bill; those of Mrs Alexis and Ruby Hawthorne. I’ve got to attend an identity parade tomorrow. Then I’ll be a witness in both cases. I can’t get out of any of that, can I?’
‘Well . . .’ he pinched his chin. ‘No. But you could promise me not to get involved in anything else of that kind in future.’
‘I can’t promise anything of the kind. I got into this because my friends were involved. Suppose another of my friends gets involved in something in future? Would you really want me to walk away, to say it was none of my business?’
‘Well . . .’ He would, really. But it was not going to be possible for him to say so.
Ellie added, ‘You’ve moved on, too. You’ve got your own circle of friends, your own pastimes. Golf and the Rotary Club and all that. Let’s face it, I’m just a simple little suburban housewife who helps out around the church and parish. I loved going to the Ritz — I hope you’ll include me in some other outings like that — but that’s a treat for me. It’s not everyday fare. To put it bluntly, Bill: I don’t fit in.’
‘You could at least try to—’
‘Learn how to play bridge, and dye my hair and diet till I’m skin and bone and think about nothing but how to spend money? I can’t, Bill.’
He sighed. ‘But that’s why . . . hang it all, Ellie . . . it’s what made me love you in the first place.’
‘You may like that about me, but at the same time you’d like me to have a make-over and look like Janetta, wouldn’t you?’
‘No, not really.’ He ran his hand over his eyes. ‘Yes, I see what you mean. But Ellie, I really do value you as you are. At least, if you were to give a little bit . . .’
Ellie smiled. ‘You see?’
‘You could learn to play golf. If I let you off the bridge . . .’
She laughed, and got out of the car. ‘No, Bill. I’m far too busy for that. Give me a ring when you want a day out sometime, right?’
She let herself into her house with a feeling of enormous relief. So, that was that. A road had opened up before her, and turned into a cul-de-sac. She felt some regret that it hadn’t worked out. It had been lovely to be praised and flattered and taken out to nice places. But the bottom line was too steep for her.
* * *
The following morning Ellie went down to the police station, and attended an identity parade. She was assured that the people behind a certain window couldn’t see her, although presumably they knew who was going to be looking at them.
She prayed a bit, waiting for the moment to arrive when she had to confront Mrs Alexis again. If, indeed, Mrs Alexis was there.
‘Ready? Take your time.’
Ellie spotted Mrs Alexis straight away. There were other women there, all about the same size and all dressed in dun colours. Mrs Alexis was looking straight ahead of her . . . and then some instinct made her glance to the left. Ellie knew that the glass in front of her was one-way but she fell back a pace and caught her breath. It was exactly as if the woman was looking directly at her.
‘That’s her. Mrs Alexis. She firebombed Lady Kingsley’s house and I saw her there.’
‘Are you sure? She can’t see you, you know.’
Ellie tried to laugh. ‘She looks as meek as a mouse, but she’s no mouse, believe me. What are you going to charge her with? She won’t get bail, will she?’
‘Arson, to start with. And no, we’ll oppose bail.’
* * *
Betty Alexis was charged with arson as soon as Ellie had identified her, and at that point the police began to delve into her background in earnest. They obtained permission for the exhumation of the body of Paddy the handyman, which revealed the fact that he had enough sleeping pills in his body to tip his alcohol level over from high to dangerous. In the end Mrs Alexis was never brought to court with his murder, nor with those of her husband, father and sister, because it was felt that there was simply not enough evidence to convict.
However, when they analysed the rolls Mrs Alexis had left for Felicity, they found cytisine, the alkaloid which can be obtained from laburnum seeds, in sufficient quantities to have killed two adults. The chain of proof leading back to Mrs Alexis was not fool-proof but they might have prosecuted on that if they hadn’t got her for arson. In the end, the charges of murder and attempted murder were left on file, because they knew that, with Ellie’s evidence, they could get Mrs Alexis for arson with intent to endanger life. Mrs Alexis had been wrong about only getting a couple of years for it — she got life.
Ruby Hawthorne was charged with the murder of her father. Her barrister argued plausibly that his client was as white as blinding snow, and that the jury should look instead at the background of Mrs Alexis, her housekeeper, who was a proven arsonist. He urged the jury to give his client the benefit of the doubt, which they might well have done if Ellie hadn’t given such a damning testimony which proved Ruby knew how to get away with murder. As a clincher, the police found an acquaintance of Ruby’s, who testified that her friend had been complaining bitterly in the wine bar about the horrendous cost of putting her father in a home, because it would wipe out the money she expected to inherit on his death.
The gossip about Mafia connections was, of course, nothing but a rumour, but it transpired that Ruby was heavily in debt. The lease on her boutique was sold and it became a dry cleaner’s, which Ellie felt was rather apt.
* * *
All that was in the future. After the identity parade Ellie returned home feeling shattered. The weather remained balmy, and she was looking forward to sitting down in the garden, in the shade of a large parasol, and drinking some iced tea. She’d made a large jug of it that morning and it was sitting in the fridge waiting for her to get back.
She let herself into the house, greeted Midge and fed him, and opened the back door to go down into the garden. There were two reclining chairs under the big parasol on the lawn. Two, because Kate often came over for a chat. From the top of the steps, Ellie could see that one of the chairs was already occupied, and not by Kate. She put the jug of iced tea and a couple of glasses on a tray, added the tin of biscuits, and went down to join him.
‘Hope you didn’t mind,’ said Thomas. ‘Kate said you’d be back soon. She’s taken Catriona swimming.’
‘Fine by me. Iced tea?’
Thomas lifted a can of beer from the lawn. ‘Brought this, but I wouldn’t mind a biscuit. Had a bad day?’
Ellie grimaced. ‘Might have been better. And you?’
‘So-so.’
Ellie sank into the other chair and sipped iced tea. It was good.
Silence. A few butterflies were clustering on a buddleia halfway down the garden. Bees were investigating some thyme which had come into flower.
Thomas produced a Get Well Soon card and handed it to her.
‘What’s this?’ said Ellie. ‘I haven’t been ill.’
‘It’s from the choir and some other members of the congregation, asking you to come back. They held an indignation meeting over coffee after the service yesterday morning. Mrs Dawes happened to have a couple of cards in her bag; I understand it was a choice between “Get Well Soon” or “New Home”.’
Ellie opened the card, which had a picture on the front of a hippopotamus with his head tied up in a handkerchief. There were a lot of signatures inside. Ever since Reggie had thrown her out of the choir, there’d been a nasty hard place inside Ellie’s chest. Now, it melted away. She wanted to cry, but managed not to.
‘I bet Reggie didn’t sign.’
Thomas pointed to a tiny signature. ‘Jean stood, over him till he did.’ Jean was four foot ten, and Reggie was six foot. Ellie giggled.
‘Jean said that you were a pillar of the church, and he’d no right to keep you out of the choir.’
Ellie laughed out loud at the idea of her being a pillar of the church. ‘I suppose she’d be short of someone to help with coffee, if I went. But honestly, Thomas, I haven’t much of a voice, and I really don’t know why they should want me back.’
‘You’ve a sweet voice, you use it to praise God, and you care about people,’ said Thomas. ‘I quote, of course. From Mrs Dawes, among others. You were missed yesterday.’
Ellie fidgeted. ‘I went to have a look at another church yesterday, but I probably won’t go again.’
‘Good.’ He took the last biscuit, turning the tin upside down to make sure he’d got all the crumbs.
‘Thomas, you shouldn’t eat so many biscuits. You ought to go on a diet.’
‘Don’t blame me. It’s your fault for giving biscuits to a poor lonely widower with no one to look after him.’
Ellie gave him a sceptical look. He must know that he could have half the widows in the parish inviting him in for meals, if he wished. Then she remembered that moment in her hall when she’d gone to him for comfort and . . . well, best not think about that.
He folded his hands over his tummy and closed his eyes, the very picture of bliss personified. ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘I may be moving on soon to another parish. What do you think?’
She nearly dropped her glass of tea. ‘What? But you’ve only been here five minutes.’
‘I thought it might get a bit awkward, between me and thee. And if it did become awkward, then I’d best make a move. The bishop’s agreeable. Said he could find me something straight away. It’s up to you, really.’
Ellie shot upright, experiencing shock, followed by outrage . . . how dare he put it all on her! Then came an urgent need to laugh.
She remembered Felicity’s forefinger describing circles on the table top, getting ever nearer to Roy’s hand. Here was Mr Mouse playing the same game.
Only Mrs Pussy Cat was not going to be pushed into saying Yes or No. Mrs Pussy Cat had come to the conclusion that her life was all right as it was, thank you very much.
Of course, life with Thomas would never be dull. It would be a useful life. And a very full one. She was extremely, warmly fond of him. Fonder of him than of Bill? Well . . . probably, yes. And what’s more, Thomas still seemed to be functioning in a particular area where Bill wasn’t. But he hadn’t actually asked her to marry him, had he?
Oh, no. Mr Mouse wasn’t going to risk that. He was going to poke his whiskers out of his hole and see if Mrs Pussy Cat wanted to pounce, or to walk away.
She didn’t know whether to kiss him or hit him.
She said, ‘I’ll have to think about that. In the meantime, you could give me your mobile phone number, right?’
‘Will do. How about Kew this afternoon?’
‘This isn’t your day off. If we go to Kew, will you turn your mobile phone off?’
She awaited his reply with interest.
THE END