‘What are those dogs doing here?’ she demanded, without preamble.
Thea ran quickly through a selection of responses: flippant, defensive, outraged or placatory. None of them felt quite wise. ‘Why?’ was all she ended up with.
‘The last time they were here, they killed my cat. They’re demons, the damned things. Rita never had any control over them. It wasn’t her fault, I know. Her selfish beast of a son foisted them onto her whenever it suited him. I thought at least I’d never have to see them again, once Rita went into the home. And now here they are, large as life. It’s a disgrace!’ Her voice rose into a squeal of protest.
Thea could only blink and hold her ground. ‘They killed your cat?’ she managed. ‘That’s incredible.’
‘I assure you it’s true. She let them out, and they just shot after poor Sammy like wolves. Tore him to bits. It was appalling.’
Thea looked to the dogs for an explanation, but none was forthcoming. The story was hard, but not impossible, to believe. Whilst there were other breeds – which were most likely to be of the hound variety – with tendencies towards the murdering of passing cats, rabbits or lambs, even the highly humanised and disciplined shepherding ones could forget themselves on occasion. Two bitches together were notoriously unpredictable. ‘Oh dear,’ she said feebly. ‘I’d better not let them off their leads, then.’
‘You can’t let them out of the house.’ the woman insisted. ‘They’re banned. It went to court. There’s an injunction.’
‘Blimey!’ Again Thea looked at the dogs. ‘That’s going a bit far, isn’t it?’
‘They were lucky not to be put down. Now take them in again. I can’t bear the sight of them.’
There did not appear to be much choice in the matter. Betsy and Chummy would have to make do with the garden behind the house, until somebody came to retrieve them. It seemed a harsh fate for two such pleasant animals. Perhaps when Drew arrived, they could be smuggled out of Chedworth in a car and allowed a bit of freedom in the woods. Chasing squirrels was surely allowed and with a second person to help, it might be safe to give them a run.
With a mixture of resentment and doubt, she made herself a sandwich and let all the dogs out into the back. The aborted walk had confused them and they milled about indecisively, waiting for the next surprise. Norah Cookham had supervised, with arms folded, the retreat into the house and Thea did not doubt that she would be keeping a close watch to ensure there were no infringements of the extraordinary injunction. Had Millie not known about it? Presumably not, or she would have said something – or never even brought the dogs in the first place. Again, Thea wondered how closely the Wilshire family communicated, and what events there might have been in the recent past to lead to the current situation.
She went back to the upstairs sorting with a heavy tread. The enjoyment had gone out of it, thanks to the woman living opposite and the multiple visits from Millie. There were undercurrents and mysteries that bothered her. Richard Wilshire was beginning to look like a man disliked by many people – neighbours, the farmers he worked with, and possibly even his mother. Drew had seen them together, and reported no animosity, but perhaps they had deliberately presented a bland public face especially for him. There had even been a flicker of emotion on the features of Famous Judith, when his name was mentioned. Was he a bully? A coward? A heartless bureaucrat? Had he ridden roughshod over the wishes of his mother and his daughter? And had he selfishly taken himself off without warning, leaving other people to pick up the reins in his absence?
And perhaps, if he really had disappeared, it was foolish of her to continue with the work he’d given her. Perhaps everything was now different. It was highly likely that the old lady who owned the house would instruct her to put everything back exactly as she’d found it, once she learnt what was going on.
The old lady might even have some useful explanations for the way the little family was behaving, Thea realised. In the absence of Richard, his mother was inevitably the next in line for consultation, and Thea would feel much more comfortable morally if the owner of the house knew she was burrowing through its contents. She really ought to be told. Thea liked to think that if she had known the old lady was in ignorance, she would have refused the commission in the first place. Impatiently, she waited for her fiancé’s arrival, when she would suggest they go and see Mrs Wilshire in Stratford. They could do it the next morning. There’d be time to go to Broad Campden as well, if they made an early start, and abandoned any attempt at exploring the attic.
At half past two, she felt sorely tempted to phone Drew and ask him where he was. It took about an hour and a half to drive from his Somerset village to the Cotswolds, up the M5 and then following one of two routes they had devised, depending on whether Thea was occupying a house in the north or south of the area. Chedworth was towards the south, not far from Northleach. On Thursday, approaching from the east, she had turned from the A40 onto the A429 and found herself in Lower Chedworth quite easily. But for Drew, it would prove more complicated.
Chedworth on the ground in three dimensions was bizarrely unlike the comparatively straightforward depiction on the map. It was mainly to do with the switchback levels, the ground plunging bumpily down to the valley carved by the little River Churn, and boasting more than the usual quotient of small streets running at odd angles. The place was a lot bigger than first expected, too. Even a satnav might find it tricky. Maybe she could phone him and offer advice. But if she did that, he’d feel patronised – or annoyed because he could not legally answer it.
While these ditherings were filling her mind, she heard a car pull up outside. Hepzie yapped in recognition, and in half a minute she was hugging her man on the doorstep.
Conversation was postponed while they indulged in a joyous reunion for a while. Then Drew pulled away and looked around. They had somehow got into the kitchen, where three dogs were paying close attention. ‘Lovely old Aga,’ said Drew. ‘Why isn’t it on? It’s chilly in here.’
‘I don’t know how to work it. The living room’s got a log fire, so we can make it nice and warm. But we have to take the dogs out first. I hope you had some lunch? There’s loads to do. What shall we have for supper? There’s absolutely no food here, except for bread and a bit of milk. And stuff for the dogs.’
‘Why are there so many dogs?’ He frowned down at the unfamiliar animals. ‘Who do these belong to?’
‘Richard Wilshire. I told you he’s gone missing. His daughter dumped these two on me this morning. They’re not supposed to be here – there’s an injunction. I have to take them somewhere in the car for a walk.’
‘What?’
‘They killed a cat, according to the woman over the way. She’s not very nice. I haven’t met anybody else.’ This was unusual, she realised. Even in the empty little streets of a typical Cotswold settlement, Thea Osborne generally managed to make the acquaintance of at least three or four locals within her first day.
‘Let me get straight. I need the loo. And I should bring my bag in. Will the woman over the way object to my being here as well?’
‘Probably. If she thinks you’re a friend of Richard Wilshire’s, that’ll put her against you. She dislikes him, apparently.’
‘Poor chap. He seemed quite harmless to me.’
‘And me. But he’s got form, according to Millie. He went missing for three months, five years ago.’
‘Yes, you told me.’
‘Did I? Sorry. It’s intriguing, though. How can somebody get away with such mysterious behaviour these days? No wonder his wife couldn’t cope with it. It wrecked the marriage.’
‘Maybe that was the intention. A cowardly way to do it, of course.’
‘And cruel. If she had any feelings for him, she must have been desperately worried. And his mother. Even worse for her, in a way.’ Thea tried to imagine how she would feel if her daughter disappeared without trace, succeeding so well that she began to shake. ‘It would be so ghastly, not knowing what had happened.’
Drew folded his arms around her. ‘Maybe he kept her secretly informed and swore her to secrecy.’
‘I was wondering if we could go and visit her? You know where her care home is, don’t you?’
‘The satnav does,’ he said proudly. ‘It worked perfectly coming here, you know. I can’t believe the difference it makes.’
‘Shut up,’ she said fondly. ‘You’re just trying to pick a fight.’ She made herself think about the Wilshires. ‘Why didn’t his mother move in with him? He must have quite a big place – Millie lives there, and her friend’s been staying as well. And if it’s too small, why don’t they sell this house and get somewhere big enough for all of them in Stratford?’
‘They did explain it all to me. I think he’d have preferred something like that, but the old lady insisted on doing it the way they have. She really likes the home, you know. I had a little note from her this morning, in with a paper I asked her to sign. She made a point of telling me how happy she is there.’
‘Hmm – Stratford’s a bit far to go, I suppose. But it sounds as if she’d really like to see you.’
He looked doubtful. ‘I don’t think she has any special liking for me. It might seem a bit odd, dropping in on her without warning.’
‘We’ll think of an explanation. I really do want to meet her. How long have you got tomorrow?’
‘If I leave here at five, it should work. I can collect the kids and get them to bed in reasonable time for school. I feel a bit guilty about it, but they seem happy enough.’
‘I feel guilty taking you away from them,’ she admitted. ‘But we don’t do it very often, do we?’ she added defiantly.
‘Not often enough. I haven’t had you to myself for ages.’
‘Just wait till you see the bed,’ she teased. ‘It’s like magic.’
‘What if I can’t wait? Why don’t we …?’
‘What? Now? We can’t, Drew. There’s too much going on. At least—’ She had heard herself sounding prudish and less than enthusiastic, and wondered what she was thinking. An hour of afternoon passion with the man she loved would break no laws, and the dogs had no urgent need for an outing, after all. ‘All right, then,’ she said, with a laugh.
‘Women!’ he complained. ‘Never know their own minds.’
‘Careful! One wrong word, and I’ll change it again.’
She led him upstairs, where he paid a quick call to the bathroom, and then put his head into each bedroom in turn. ‘Just checking there’s nobody here,’ he said. ‘It feels as if there’s a presence somewhere.’
She looked at him, unsure whether or not he was joking. ‘Must be a ghost, then,’ she said. ‘I expect a few people have died here over the years.’
‘That room –’ he indicated the second bedroom ‘– looks as if a bomb’s hit it.’
‘That was me. Come on, Drew. You’re meant to be consumed by passion, not exploring the house.’
The lovemaking was good, but nowhere near their best. Thea felt uneasy using the big old bed in such a way and Drew picked up on her mood. ‘It’s rather awful of us,’ he said. ‘Don’t you think?’
‘A bit,’ she agreed.
‘I’m her undertaker, for goodness’ sake. It’s macabre, when you think about it.’
‘More like a very black joke. You could make a funny film out of it – an undertaker who always has sex in his clients’ beds.’
He groaned. ‘Stop it. Even Six Feet Under didn’t do that. Not as far as I can remember, anyway,’ he added.
‘Well, we’ve done it now, and it was very nice, and I am extremely happy that you’re here. Let me show you the house properly. It’s not really haunted at all. It’s got a lovely welcoming atmosphere, actually.’
They dressed, still slightly self-conscious about it. Thea pushed aside a niggling thought that the real truth was that she and Drew functioned best together when they were talking, making plans, and exploring new places. He was approaching forty and she was some years senior to that. Young enough for a vigorous sex life, but too old for it to be the mainstay of the relationship. She could easily envisage a somewhat tepid middle age, in which they settled into a routine where the sex was more of a habit than necessity. And yet she definitely loved him. Looking at him now, she swelled with it. His boyish looks concealed a maturity that she was still discovering. He was stoical about the death of his wife, honest about his uneven feelings towards his children. Stephanie was inescapably more special to him than Timmy was – a small tragedy that he did not try to hide from himself. Timmy had been an accident, born uncomfortably soon after his sister, and cheated of proper parenting by his mother’s long-drawn-out illness and death. Drew hoped that the role played by Maggs Cooper had compensated in some way. Maggs had immediately observed the situation, and taken it upon herself to focus on the child and his needs. But now Maggs had her own baby, and Timmy was nearly eight and increasingly inscrutable.
The second bedroom was indeed a mess. The contents of all the various drawers, chests and boxes were laid out on every surface, including the floor, despite many of them having been moved to the little closet off the main bedroom. ‘There’s masses of it,’ Drew said. He fingered a silk camisole. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a garment like this before. And look at this hanky. It’s got some sort of crest embroidered on it.’ He smiled. ‘I always think it’s weird to decorate something you use to blow your nose on. This stuff must be fifty years old.’
‘More like eighty. It’s pre-war, some of it, I think. I don’t understand what it’s doing here. People don’t keep their old clothes as long as this. They hardly seem to have been worn. I started packing it all away again, but then I thought you might like to see it.’
‘They’re not hers,’ said Drew suddenly. ‘They must be the sister’s.’
‘What? What sister?’
‘She died young. Mrs Wilshire told me about her. People do that,’ he explained. ‘They go back through all the funerals they’ve known. It’s a sort of instinct. And it helps them decide how their own should go. Makes sense.’
‘Okay,’ said Thea thoughtfully. ‘So, assuming she was born in the 1920s and died as a young adult – old enough to wear these clothes, anyway – that would be the forties or thereabouts when she died.’
‘She was older than Rita. She’d be in her late nineties now. She had a grand funeral. That’s all I can remember. She said her name … something nice. It’s gone.’ He shook his head as if the name might be dislodged.
‘But why would anybody give house room to a dead sister’s clothes?’
‘For lack of any other idea, probably. I mean – what else should she do? She probably intended to dispose of it, and never got around to it.’
‘For seventy years? That’s insane.’
Drew shrugged. ‘Time rushes by, you forget about it, and then it doesn’t seem to matter any more. I can imagine how it might be. Rita had her own life to think about. Husband. Son. Interests.’
Thea had a thought. ‘Have you still got Karen’s things somewhere, then?’
He lifted his head, aware of a moment that mattered. ‘Her mother took it all away. There wasn’t much. In the last year or two, she hadn’t bought anything new. She wasn’t interested, and we hardly had any money.’
There was a sadness gathering in the air, which was far from what Thea wanted or expected. ‘Enough!’ she announced. ‘We’re having tea and cake, and then we’ll go for a little drive with the dogs. It’ll be dark otherwise and we won’t have done anything.’
Brooking no further distractions, she bustled him through this plan, so that shortly before four o’clock they were piling three dogs onto the back seat of her car. Drew had refused to use his, on the very reasonable grounds that the child booster seats would get in the way.
Almost at random, Thea drove down to the lower street and turned left. ‘Where are we going?’ asked Drew.
‘No idea. But take note, because we might never find our way back again. The place is pretty confusing and I have no electronic assistance.’
‘This road goes to Yanworth,’ he said with confidence.
‘It’s not the main village street, is it?’ she said, a moment later. ‘I thought it was.’
‘No. For that you need to turn right past the pub and then left. I think. It’s the other side of the river. I did take notice, despite having the gadget telling me what to do. That’s where people go wrong,’ he added piously.
They were climbing a steep hill, which ended in a tight bend to the right. ‘Blimey!’ said Thea. ‘This must be grim in winter.’
‘Indeed. We need to find a footpath, don’t we? Those woods look appealing.’ He gazed out of his window with interest. ‘And look at this amazing old barn! Slow down, Thea. Let me have a proper look. I want to take some photos of it.’ He produced his phone and began to fiddle with it.
On the left was a jumble of buildings, oddly conjoined and centred around a large stone barn with a very high red-tiled roof. Thea stopped the car, and immediately the dogs in the back went wild, scrabbling at the car windows to be released.
‘Let’s walk from here, then,’ she said. ‘Don’t open your door until I’ve got them on leads.’
Awkwardly, she leant over and grabbed each dog in turn, attaching leads to their collars. ‘Okay,’ she panted. ‘I’ve got them. Hepzie can go loose, so long as there’s no car coming.’
They scrambled out in a tangle, the sheepdogs showing extraordinary excitement. ‘What’s got into them?’ asked Drew. ‘They’ve gone mad. I’m going over there to take my pictures.’ He started walking to a point where he could see the whole building.
The behaviour of the dogs was certainly excessive, Thea agreed, as the animals hauled her along the grass verge towards the buildings. ‘I think they must know this place,’ she called back to Drew, who had his phone in his hand, apparently ready to take photos. ‘Oi! Dogs! Slow down.’
But there was no stopping them. Through a field gate adjacent to the barn and across a small ditch they dragged her, then onto the yard in front of the barn. Drew trotted some distance behind her, protesting weakly that they were trespassing. ‘What’s the matter with those dogs?’ he demanded again.
Thea was rather enjoying herself, not trying very hard to slow the animals. They were so sure of what they wanted, so determined in their trajectory, that she was caught up in the quest for whatever it was they were heading for. They towed her up to the vast stone-built barn, which had a wide-open hole where a door might be expected. Hepzie followed, though not showing anything like the enthusiasm of Betsy and Chummy. ‘We’re going in!’ called Thea to the distracted photographer. ‘It’s like a cathedral in here.’
She had time to stand in awe on the threshold, looking up into the immense height of the roof, and wondering why it had been built on such a vast soaring scale. There were big bales of straw stacked against the back wall, and a modern-looking tractor parked near them. The dogs were straining and yelping even more desperately than before. Almost without realising it, she dropped the leads. Her arms were hurting, and she saw little risk that they would suddenly turn round and dash away over the fields.
She was right. They flew to a shadowy corner and started nuzzling and whining at something on the floor.
‘They’ve found something,’ she shouted to Drew, who was still aiming his phone at the barn from outside. He had gone some way back towards the road, to get a good angle. ‘Come and see.’
He came unhurriedly to her side. ‘A rats’ nest, probably.’ He was standing as Thea had done, his head tilted back as he stared upwards. ‘You know what’s so amazing about this place – it’s still being used as it was first intended. It must be the only working barn in Gloucestershire. Why hasn’t somebody converted it into a house?’
‘You wouldn’t want a roof like that in a house. And I doubt if you’d be allowed to change it. It’s gorgeous.’
‘But they’ve ruined it outside, adding all that modern concrete blockery.’
Thea didn’t reply. She had moved closer to the dogs, thinking she ought to recapture them before they ran off. There was a small niggling worry dawning as they whined in unison. Hepzie had joined them, and kept looking back at Thea as if asking for advice.
‘What is it, girls?’ she asked. ‘Why are you so upset?’
Then she saw it, as if a spotlight had suddenly been switched on. A round shape with close-cropped grey hair, and a chin. Shoulders. Hands.
‘God, Drew. It’s a body!’ she gasped.