Chapter 16
As it turned out, the dining table in Hayley’s flat was heaped with delicious things, to which Sean added a bottle of Chardonnay, and Julia a plate of home-made chocolate brownies. She had brought a beautiful mixed bunch of spring flowers from Blooming Marvels, too, which Sean handed over.
‘I said no presents!’ said Sylvia. She tried to sound mildly grumpy, but the smile on her face said otherwise.
‘Ah, yes, so I understand. But this isn’t a present. It’s a decoration,’ said Sean with a grin. ‘Julia explained the distinction to me in the car.’
‘Well, the decoration is gorgeous. That’s very kind of you, Julia.’
‘You’re very welcome. I couldn’t resist. It’s the best time of year for flowers.’
‘I’ll enjoy them every day,’ said Sylvia.
‘And look, there are sausage rolls,’ Julia said to Hayley, pointing to a platter of gleaming golden pastry. ‘You see? You worried for nothing!’
‘Hayley told you about her sausage roll anxiety, did she?’ Sylvia said with a laugh. ‘It’s been keeping her awake at night all week.’
‘And all for nothing!’ said Julia.
Sylvia leaned in to Julia and said, in a stage whisper, ‘Hayley bought those sausage rolls herself, to be sure…’ – which made them all laugh, even Hayley.
‘The suspense was killing me,’ she said. ‘I had to take matters into my own hands.’
‘Hayley struggles with uncertainty. Trusting the universe isn’t her thing,’ said Sylvia kindly, giving her girlfriend a squeeze.
Julia surveyed the room. Every seat was full, and the range and diversity of guests was quite remarkable.
Walter Farmer was showing a young boy in a football shirt how to fold a piece of paper into a fortune-teller.
There were two little girls on the tiny patio blowing soap bubbles.
Hayley’s sister, Rosie, was searching for a playlist on her iPhone.
Sitting at the end of the table were three of Sylvia’s teacher colleagues conversing with Walter Farmer’s wife, Amaryllis, about babies.
One of which was currently resident inside Amaryllis, preparing for entry into the world in a few weeks’ time.
‘Oh, you’ll do wonderfully!’ said the oldest of the three teachers, a round-faced woman of about fifty addressing the mum-to-be. ‘Babies don’t need a whole lot of fuss and expensive toys. Simply love and chat to the little one, have a bit of a sing.’
‘Let them play outside,’ said the young man of the teacher group, who looked barely old enough to have finished school himself. ‘I mean, not immediately, but you know, when they’re bigger…’
‘The children are very clever these days,’ said a woman whom Julia recognised as Hayley’s next-door neighbour. ‘My granddaughter can speak Mandarin, and she’s only four.’
The teachers didn’t know what to make of this unlikely claim. Nursery school teachers must hear a lot of doting parents and grannies with such exaggerated tales of genius. Julia filled the awkward pause by offering the plate of brownies around.
The neighbour took a brownie with a nod of thanks, and said, ‘I suppose it’s not so amazing really, given that her dad is Chinese. And they live in China. But still, it’s right wonderful to hear the little lamb chattering away.’
Rosie must have found her playlist, because the sound of Paul Simon singing ‘50 Ways to Leave Your Lover’ came from the speakers.
Sylvia looked calm and happy. Hayley Gibson had a relaxed air, too. Had she managed to put the two deaths out of her head for an hour or two, or was she just doing a good imitation of someone with no more pressing concern than what time to cut the birthday cake?
Later, when Julia took a few empty plates into the kitchen, she found Hayley waiting for the kettle to boil. Out of the public eye, she seemed tense, shifting from foot to foot, and looking at the kettle expectantly.
‘Oh, thanks, Julia,’ she said, as Julia put the plates down next to the sink.
‘It’s a lovely party. So many people!’
‘Oh, you know Sylvia. She collects friends all over the place. Sylvia is whatever the opposite of cliquey is.’
‘Isn’t that a lovely quality?’ said Julia, feeling a bit ashamed that she hadn’t invited random children from the neighbourhood to blow soap bubbles at her birthday parties.
‘I was worried that no one would know each other and it would be awkward, but they all seem absolutely fine.’ Hayley Gibson shook her head at the strangeness of folk.
Hayley, herself, was socially reserved, and a conversation with her ex-driving instructor would likely have made her a bit uncomfortable.
Which is why she was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil.
So far, out of respect for the cheerful occasion, neither of them had mentioned the obvious topic of their shared concern. Julia could now no longer resist a small question.
‘Is there any news on the forensic results?’
Hayley looked relieved to be able to speak about it. ‘Not a word. It’s driving me completely mad. That’s the irritating thing about Saturday deaths’ – she caught herself and blushed – ‘Sorry, that came out wrong… I want to get some answers, and answers are slow to come on the weekend.’
‘Do you think…?’ said Julia. She had been reluctant to discuss such grim matters at a birthday party, but since they’d started, she might as well go on. ‘Do you think Esmeralda’s death might not have been an accident?’
‘There’s no concrete reason to say that, yet,’ said Hayley quietly. ‘But there are one or two… coincidences.’
‘This is the second unusual death in the area in two weeks,’ said Julia.
‘Exactly!’ said Hayley, her voice rising. ‘And they’re in the same—’
She stopped talking abruptly when Sylvia came in.
‘Is the tea ready? People are gasping for refills.’
‘Coming,’ said Hayley, pouring the hot water into the teapot. It had boiled some minutes ago, but she had been distracted by thoughts of work.
‘Thanks, love,’ said Sylvia.
‘Are you enjoying your birthday party?’ Hayley asked.
‘It’s great. Just what I wanted. Nice and chilled, not too much fuss.’
‘You were right about the food. And about the open house. There’s plenty to eat and everyone is having a good time.’
Sylvia gave Hayley a kiss and said, ‘Don’t tarry in the kitchen, now.
Come out and have fun. More people have arrived – some people from my yoga class.
And remember what we said about work…’ She waved a finger at the two of them.
Julia flushed slightly, but Sylvia gave a merry laugh, picked up the teapot and went back out to the party.
‘Hayley, quickly,’ said Julia, feeling a little guilty for bringing up a morbid subject at a birthday party, and for disobeying Sylvia’s gentle instruction. ‘I remember Esmeralda said that her work sometimes overlapped with Basil Crow’s. It can’t be a coincidence, can it?’
‘My first phone call tomorrow morning is to the environmental office to find out if they were working on any of the same projects.’
‘I can’t help but think that it must be relevant. It could be a clue to the motive for their deaths.’
‘I agree. The autopsy results should be ready tomorrow, and I’ll take it from there. I’ll know a lot more by the end of the day. I might even have a—’
Sylvia’s head appeared in the doorway. ‘Right,’ she said, firm but pleasant.
‘Time’s up, Hayley. Come with me. I want to introduce you to my yoga friends.
They are so nice. And super flexible, too.
Remember I told you that one of them writes crime novels?
Well, she’s dying to meet you, a real detective inspector…
’ She hooked her arm through Hayley’s and led her through to the party, Julia following them out.