Chapter 17
Wilma arrived at pace, coming down the road with a spring in her step.
Her long blonde-grey bob swung briskly from side to side, and a pink cooler bag decorated with white daisies swung from the crook of her elbow.
She got to the door as Julia arrived from the other direction.
Diane crossed the road at the same minute.
‘Good morning, good morning.’ Wilma smiled broadly at them. ‘Look at us! Isn’t this marvellous timing?’
‘We were certainly all very prompt,’ said Diane.
‘And isn’t it the most lovely day?’
It was indeed a pretty spring day, but Wilma wasn’t usually in the habit of remarking so effusively about the weather.
‘Oh, gosh,’ she said, looking at her sports watch. ‘Hang on a mo.’ She tapped at the screen. ‘I forgot to put the step counter on. I’ve wasted a good two thousand steps. Silly me. Oh well.’
This wasn’t like Wilma, either. She was obsessed with the watch – her step count, her minutes of exercise, her heart rate, whatever else it was that the thing measured. She never forgot to set it, and if she did, she’d be in a proper state, not an ‘Oh well’ state.
She bent to unlock the door and straightened up to turn the full beam of her gaze on her colleagues. ‘Okay, ladies, let’s get down to business, shall we? I have a feeling we’re going to have a lovely busy day and raise lots of money for good causes.’
‘That’s the spirit! Let’s see what we can do,’ said Diane, catching Julia’s eye and giving a tiny, quizzical raise of the eyebrows.
‘And I brought delicious snacks for our tea break.’ Wilma patted the little pink cooler bag. ‘No peeking – you’ll have to wait and see!’
Wilma was right about the morning. A steady stream of Berrywick locals visited the shop, and most browsers found items that took their fancy or suited their needs.
They sold one or two big-ticket items, too.
It was the busiest morning they had had all month, with the biggest turnover.
Julia couldn’t help but wonder if Wilma had somehow drawn them in with her excessively good vibes.
She maintained her good cheer throughout the morning.
Julia wondered if it was something to do with her heart rate or step count, because she glanced at her watch every five minutes.
She didn’t even lose her temper when a small ring that she had left near an open window in the storeroom disappeared.
‘Oh, it’ll have fallen,’ she said. ‘It will turn up.’ This was most un-Wilma-like behaviour altogether.
Just as the three women were about to break for tea, a couple came in with lots of almost new, high-quality winter clothes – cashmere jumpers, pure wool coats, leather boots, sturdy rain gear. Wilma’s eyes lit up – this was the kind of merchandise that fetched good prices and sold quickly.
‘We’re moving to the Bahamas in two weeks’ time!’ said the woman. ‘We won’t be needing these winter woollies. It’ll be swimming costumes and little silky frocks for me. Board shorts and boating loafers for him.’
Her husband looked a little less certain, standing there with an armful of business suits and what looked like handmade pure cotton shirts, all neatly hung on gleaming wooden clothes hangers.
‘Go on, Geoffrey, lighten your burdens!’ his wife said with a sweeping flourish of her hand. She seemed to match Wilma in mood. Geoffrey placed the clothes and hangers neatly down on the counter.
‘Isn’t that better?’ she said, giving his arm a squeeze. ‘No more corporate rat race for us. Our new adventures begin!’ He smiled at her, but didn’t say a word.
They looked to be about Julia’s age. Fit and healthy retirees making a big change. She’d done the same, in a way.
‘How exciting for you. A whole new chapter in a beautiful new place.’ Diane sounded a little wistful.
‘It’s always been our dream to live in the tropics,’ said Geoffrey, who, it turned out, could speak after all.
‘I was a sailing man in my youth, and Lorna loved it, too, when we were first married, but then the children were born, and besides, we didn’t have time to do much of it, what with work, you know… And we decided, well, now or never.’
‘We’ve both retired. We’re going to live on an island and buy a boat, and off we go!’
‘It’s a big change,’ said Geoffrey. A small, worried frown creased his brow.
‘It is,’ said Julia. ‘I retired a few years ago and moved here to the Cotswolds from London. It’s not as big a move as yours, but it was a real life change. I left everything familiar, for something new.’
‘How has it been?’ asked Geoffrey.
‘Wonderful,’ she said, truthfully. ‘Stimulating, invigorating. A new lease of life, really.’
‘You’ll have a marvellous time!’ Wilma said, laying a proprietary hand on the pile of suits, as if Geoffrey might change his mind. ‘What a lovely, romantic notion!’
‘Teatime!’ crooned Wilma, when the retirees had sailed out of the shop into their bright and balmy future.
While Julia put the kettle on, Wilma reached for her little cooler bag.
‘Strawberries and cream, and home-made scones,’ she said proudly, unpacking them onto the tiny counter. ‘I was in the mood for baking.’
Wilma was not known to be a baker. For a start, she was usually watching her figure. And anyway, cooking wasn’t really her thing. Unlike Julia and most of their friends, she hardly ever talked about food she’d made or eaten, or shared a recipe.
‘Oh, yum, what a treat,’ said Julia, who was jolly peckish after a busy morning.
‘You seem very cheerful,’ said Diane, looking quizzically at Wilma.
‘Hmm?’ said Wilma, looking up from her phone.
‘I was remarking that you seemed to be in a good mood today.’
‘Do I?’ said Wilma, placing her phone face down on the table and passing Diane a plate.
‘You do,’ said Julia. ‘You seem… bouncy, today.’
‘Well…’ said Wilma, passing a plate to Julia. She seemed to be considering whether or not to speak. She decided in favour, saying, ‘I have a new… friend.’
‘Oh, gosh!’ the other two said in unison.
The ridiculousness of their identical response made them all laugh and broke the awkwardness.
‘I joined a dating service. I haven’t wanted to even think about that sort of thing, not after Nigel died. I thought, well, I’ve had my marriage, and I’m getting on in life.’
‘You?’ said Diane. ‘You’re ageless.’
‘No one’s ageless, I’m afraid,’ said Wilma with a laugh. ‘Although I do try to keep myself in shape. And so does… my friend. He is a keen squash player.’
‘Do tell us about your friend,’ said Julia, lest they get sidetracked by Wilma’s friend’s fitness regime.
‘Well, his name is Douglas, and he’s a businessman who lives over in Hayfield. He lost his wife to cancer about the same time I lost Nigel to cancer, and he’s been on his own ever since. And he joined up on the site the same week I did. Isn’t that a coincidence?’
They nodded encouragingly.
‘We’ve been corresponding over the phone,’ she said, blushing. ‘It started with notes and messages, and so on. There was quite a… I’d say a connection.’
That would explain the regular glances at her watch and phone.
‘You’re flirting!’ said Julia.
‘Well, yes, I suppose we are flirting!’ said Wilma.
‘So, it was messages for a week or so, and yesterday we arranged to speak. Oh, we were on the phone for an hour! He’s got a lovely, chatty way with him.
He asks interesting questions, and he does make me laugh.
But he listens, too. But the thing I wanted to ask you ladies is about the next step… He wants us to meet in person soon.’
‘And will you?’ asked Diane.
‘I want to.’ Wilma sounded unsure. ‘I can’t picture myself on an old-fashioned date, if you know what I mean. I won’t know what to do.’
Julia and Diane both thought for a moment. A date – with movies and dinner and suchlike – did seem a very sedentary activity for Wilma.
‘A walk!’ said Julia. ‘You could go on a walk and—’
To the great annoyance of Julia and Diane, the tinkle of the doorbell announced the arrival of a customer, and the end of their delightful tea break.
‘I’ll go,’ said Julia, popping the last strawberry in her mouth, and dabbing her lips on the napkin Wilma had thoughtfully provided.
She walked through to the shop and was surprised to see Detective Inspector Hayley Gibson standing at the counter with a face like thunder, and a piece of paper in her hand. ‘The autopsy results are back. I need to talk to you,’ she said quietly.
‘Okay,’ said Julia. ‘Wait a minute.’
She popped her head through the door to the storeroom and said, ‘It’s someone for me. You go on and enjoy your tea,’ and withdrew her head before anyone had a chance to ask a question. Then she popped it briefly back in to say, ‘But don’t finish the Douglas story without me!’
‘What is going on? What does the report say?’ she asked Hayley.
The detective took a steadying breath, and said, ‘The forensic report says there is no evidence to indicate foul play. Esmeralda had an insulin imbalance. It’s believed that she was dizzy and faint. She fell and hit her head. She tumbled into the river and drowned.’
Hayley shook her head – in denial or in disbelief, Julia wasn’t sure.
‘And you don’t think that’s so?’
‘The results don’t lie. I’m sure they’re right about the insulin.
It’s the interpretation that I’m questioning, Julia.
I am not at all sure that her medical condition caused her to fall and then drown.
It seems altogether too much of a coincidence that two people who worked together died in strange circumstances within such a short space of time. I think it needs more investigation.’
Hayley laid the piece of paper on the counter between them.
‘But I have been forbidden – yes, that’s the word he used – forbidden by the new superintendent, Lance Frederick, from investigating this matter.
He has forbidden…’ Hayley paused again, as if repeating this particular word was more burden than she could shoulder.
She took a deep breath. ‘I have been forbidden, specifically, from treating this death as suspicious or from pursuing any line of inquiry that might link the two deaths. I am, according to him, being fanciful. He says…’ She paused once more, and again seemed to make an active effort to speak calmly.
‘He says that our crime solve statistics would be a lot faster if I wasn’t so fanciful. ’
The two women’s eyes met. Both knew that the one adjective that could not be applied to Hayley Gibson was ‘fanciful’.
‘You’re the investigating officer!’ said Julia. ‘That seems absurd.’
‘Of course it’s absurd. And I’m going to take it up with his superiors if I can’t resolve it with him. Meanwhile, he’s still going on about the parking fight and Tabitha…’
‘Tabitha?’ Julia asked, astonished. ‘I had hoped this awful business of a second death would have at least cleared her as a suspect.’
‘I would have thought so, too, but Superintendent Frederick wants me to go back over the whole file, start from scratch. And he wants me to ask Tabitha about her whereabouts on Saturday.’
‘That’s insane!’
Hayley shrugged. ‘My hands are tied. As I said… forbidden. He wants me to pay more attention to this spate of petty thefts. Socks! Plastic toys! Worthless bits and bobs. When there is a murder to solve!’ She sighed deeply, but then gave Julia a mysterious little smile.
She tapped the piece of paper that lay between them on the counter.
‘But if I wasn’t forbidden, I’d probably get someone with a medical background to look at that report.
Someone who knows about insulin. I would ask a doctor for their view.
What a pity that I can’t do that, because of being forbidden.
’ She tapped the report again, one short tap with her forefinger, and said, ‘Now I’m going to take a look at the books, while I’m here.
I need a good read to take my mind off things.
I hope this piece of paper will be safe. ’
With one last glance at the forensic report, and one long meaningful look at Julia, she turned her back on her and walked towards the bookshelf.
Julia knew what to do. She took her phone from her pocket and photographed the report.
It took no more than a moment – two sheets, front and back.
Four quick snaps. She slipped her phone back into her pocket as Wilma and Diane emerged from the back room.
‘We left you some scones, but your tea’s cold, I’m afraid,’ said Diane.
‘Thanks. I’ll make another cup. I was helping the detective. She’s looking for books.’
Hayley came over with a fat paperback. ‘This should keep me going for a while,’ she said, putting it down on top of the report. She handed over a five-pound note, and pulled the book and the piece of paper towards her.
‘Thanks, Julia,’ she said, giving her a look that carried all sorts of hidden messaging. ‘Have a great day. And do let’s chat soon.’