Samuel took off his heavy boots and left them in the utility room at the rear of the farmhouse, where his father had left his decades before. He could smell cooking and he remembered Gloria had said she’d put a gammon in the Aga. He was supposed to be watching his waistline, but he loved Gloria’s food, and that was how she showed she loved him, it was the way it had always been. He knew it would come with a side of buttery mashed potatoes and cider gravy, and he’d have second helpings, with a few glasses of wine.
The aroma grew stronger as he neared the kitchen, which was warm from the range. It was what made the colder days in the fields worth it. Though they’d had a long punishing summer, of drought and dust, he could see in the sky’s messages that the long dark nights were coming and coming quick. He went past the kitchen table and to the sitting room, where Gloria had lit a fire. It was a bit extravagant for October, but it took the chill off the late hour, especially after a thankless day. It had started out all right but had become one of those days you’d rather forget with a glass of claret and a roaring fire, and a full belly telling you everything would be okay.
They only had one indoor dog, Samuel didn’t believe in all this mushy stuff about keeping pets indoors unless they were born for it, like Walker had been. He loved the outdoors too, but at fourteen – old even for a Labrador – he would much rather wait for his master in the living room, on his bed, peering up with his chestnut eyes. He’d never been a jumper, and was quite happy laying at Samuel’s feet, where Gloria put his basket of the evening. Samuel gazed at his empty bed and decided that tomorrow he’d search for him. He missed petting Walker at the end of a long day, rubbing his ears and speaking quietly to him as if he understood his stresses. Penny was different and slept outside in one of the barns.
‘You didn’t find him, then?’ Gloria asked, as she came in and put a large glass of red wine on the table next to Samuel’s chair. Gloria sat next to him and peered at the empty bed. Samuel knew it would be just for a second and then she’d be up again, going off to do something, never sitting still, but more for a distraction because she loved Walker as much as he did.
Samuel shook his head. ‘I’ll look again tomorrow.’
‘Will you ask Arthur?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘If I can’t find him.’
‘I’m sure Arthur would’ve told us if he found him,’ she said hopefully.
Samuel nodded.
‘It’s a nice bottle, is that. Remember when we thought wine was posh?’ she chuckled, trying to distract him.
‘Aye, I do that. Pa used to call it dishwater.’
‘Nothing but stout for him,’ Gloria said.
They smiled, but shadows soon stole them away and they both stared at the fire. Gloria didn’t get up, but stayed. Samuel knew there must be something on her mind other than Walker.
‘Is it nice?’ she asked.
‘It is that,’ said Samuel licking his lips after his first taste. It was like velvety smooth berries on his tongue and the warmth hugged the back of his throat and he exhaled. There was nothing like sitting in front of an orange flame, warming the glass in your hand, Walker snoring at his feet, with gammon cooking in the Aga, he thought. He took another sip.
‘Tough day,’ Gloria said.
He nodded and took another sip. ‘Was that.’
The fire crackled. ‘I never would’ve thought it of Victor,’ she said finally.
Samuel closed his eyes after another gulp.
‘None of us know what is going on, not really,’ he said, with his eyes still shut, his head leaning back on the chair.
‘I don’t know if to call Irene,’ she said.
‘Of course, you should. But give it a day perhaps. She’ll have a lot on her plate,’ he added.
‘So she will. Poor devil. I can’t understand it. What’ll she do now?’
Samuel opened his eyes and looked at her. He took another delicious sip and allowed it to caress him.
‘Is that what’s bothering you?’ he asked her. ‘Irene?’
Gloria nodded. ‘And…’
‘And…?’
‘He had everything he could possibly want, didn’t he? Grown up children to be proud of, Irene, a wonderful wife, a business, a fine one, the holidays they had, and the new house. Wasn’t it enough?’
‘It’s enough for me,’ Samuel said.
‘Is it?’ she asked.
He smiled and held out his hand to hers and squeezed. ‘Yes, it is,’ he said.
Gloria stood up then and smiled. ‘Right, that’s it then, I’ll go and mash the potatoes.’
She left the room and Samuel closed his eyes again.
They could talk about how Dorian had taken it in good time. The coppers had come up here to the house and interviewed their only son about how he found Victor’s body. Dorian was thirty, and used to outdoor life. He saw death almost every day of the calendar year. All right, it wasn’t normally a human one, not a fully grown man, who Dorian knew fairly well, from a distance. But Samuel knew he’d be all right. Besides, if he wasn’t then Gloria would’ve mentioned it.
‘It’s ready, love,’ Gloria shouted, pulling Samuel reluctantly from his cocoon of comfort. He’d rather stay there all night, enjoying the fire and his wine, but his belly was grumbling, and he wouldn’t miss one of Gloria’s meals for the world. He stood up and went through to the kitchen and placed his glass down on the table. It was set only for two.
‘Dorian not joining us?’ he asked.
‘No, he’s already eaten. He had fish and chips. He’s gone to meet some pals.’
‘He’s not taken it badly then?’ Samuel said. ‘Did you talk to him?’ he asked.
‘I tried to. He said he was fine. Not bothered in the slightest. He called Victor an idiot.’
‘That’s a bit harsh.’
‘Called him a show off, swanning around town, he and Beryl acting like a couple of celebrities in their fancy cars.’
Samuel raised his eyebrows, pulled out his chair and sat down, as Gloria carved the meat and slapped mash onto his plate. Samuel was reminded just how hungry he was, and his mouth watered. Gloria had placed the wine bottle on the table, and he filled their glasses. He was about to sit down when they saw lights in the yard and heard an engine. Then a loud knocking on the door. Samuel looked at Gloria who paused mid-carve and shrugged. Samuel went to the door and opened it and found his brother’s wife stood there, arms folded, face like thunder, looking expectant.
‘Beryl. What brings you over here, then? Social call?’
She rolled her eyes.
He didn’t invite her in. Arthur and Beryl had been over this side of their father’s land possibly twice since their mother died five years ago, rest her soul. There was no love lost, they didn’t talk because there was nothing to talk about. Apart from the missing jewellery, but that was all in the past now. They had no proof that Beryl took it and Arthur would hear none of it.
‘Not going to invite me in, Samuel?’ she asked.
‘Planning to get comfortable?’ he replied.
She sniffed.
Gloria appeared behind him with a carving knife and fork in her hands and Samuel had a fleeting but worrying vision of holding her back as she tried to plunge the utensils into her sister-in-law’s body.
‘Come in, then,’ he said finally, and went inside, giving Gloria a warning look. They went back into the kitchen and Beryl came in, looking around, like she had when their Ma had died, as if seeking anything that was worth taking and selling. The wedge between the brothers had become irreversible when he brought Beryl back from his travels and announced they were engaged.
Samuel stayed standing and didn’t offer Beryl a seat. Gloria went back to carving, furiously quiet.
‘Say what you’ve come for,’ Samuel said.
‘We, I mean Arthur and I, want to offer our condolences for what you’ve all been through today,’ Beryl said.
‘Condolences for what?’ Samuel asked.
Samuel reckoned that his slices of gammon would be thicker than normal tonight, watching Gloria with the knife. It grated on the side of the carving plate and on his nerves. Beryl stood alone and awkward. She folded her arms.
‘Spit it out, Beryl. If Arthur has sent you over, it means he hasn’t got the balls to come over here himself, now, what is it he wants to know? Offering sympathy isn’t his style, or yours,’ Samuel said.
‘We can’t believe what happened to poor Victor,’ Beryl said.
Samuel glanced at Gloria, who stopped carving.
‘News travels fast. And Victor was anything but poor,’ Samuel said. He peered at her hands, expecting to see his mother’s rings sparkling on her fingers. They were bare. ‘You should know.’ Beryl and Victor had been in business together for years, so Samuel found it curious that she had come to offer sympathy to him. Victor was her partner. Rumour said they were more, but gossip was vicious in these parts.
‘It must have been an awful shock. We worked closely with him. We’re as shocked as you are,’ Beryl said haughtily.
‘Know anything about it do you? The police will be interested.’
‘Police? I thought it was suicide,’ Beryl said.
‘You know a lot. They’re investigating. The coroner was here, with a police lady I’ve seen on the news.’
He watched her.
Gloria stopped scraping the knife on the porcelain dish.
‘Well, I just came to offer support,’ Beryl said.
‘The last time you did that my mother’s ruby ring disappeared,’ Samuel said.
The knife clattered to the floor, making Beryl jump.
‘I don’t think we need to go over all that again, Prudence left me that ring.’
‘So you say,’ Samuel said. It wasn’t an offer to discuss it. Gloria picked up the knife and turned her back, but not before Samuel saw how tightly she was squeezing the shaft.
‘We were close towards the end.’
Samuel couldn’t help but snort. He took a step closer to the woman who’d invaded their privacy. She stepped back.
‘Look, I’m not here to make things worse between you and your brother,’ Beryl said.
‘You did that years ago. If you’ve got any condolences to pass on, why don’t you speak to Irene yourself? Is there anything else?’
Beryl looked between the pair. ‘I guess I should inform the police then. I saw Victor’s car over by Dockray. It’s been there for a few days. Just trying to be helpful.’
‘Really? Turned over a new leaf?’ Samuel asked.
‘I’ll see myself out,’ Beryl said, turning to the door.
‘Where did you say his car was?’ Samuel asked.
‘The lay-by on the Dockray Road, the one at the foot of Great Mell,’ Beryl said, turning with her hand on the door.
Samuel rubbed his chin and looked at Gloria. ‘They’re wanting to know where he was all week, you see him?’ Samuel asked.
‘No. But I know he was tired.’
‘Tired? You don’t jump off a quarry face because you’re tired.’
‘I know the look. I see it all the time. I mean tired of everything, tired of life. He was exhausted.’
‘There’s better ways to go. I didn’t have Victor down as the jumping type. Seemed to me to love life, and how money could make it better.’
‘What’s the jumping type?’ Beryl asked, ignoring the reference to money.
Samuel stepped closer to her, and Beryl opened the door a crack, letting in the cold night air.
‘You know the ones who are burning from a fire so hot they’d rather smash their heads open than watch their own skin blister.’
Beryl faced him, though he was a clear foot taller than she was. Both had faced off before, many times. Samuel used his superior height but didn’t get too close for fear of being slashed by Beryl’s talons, which he knew from experience were deadly.
She looked away first, banged the door, and left.