Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
Thom and Sennen arrived back at the farm just before three. The air still carried a faint tang of smoke, though the blackened remains of the Cosy Café marquee and the surrounding earth were mostly cold and still. Rita was standing at the back door, balanced on her crutches.
‘How is she?’
‘Hilarious as usual.’ Thom smiled. ‘Her left hand is burnt but her spirits are high. We left her with a nurse checking her blood pressure, but I reckon she’ll be home tomorrow; you know what a strong old bird she is.
I’ve already called in to tell work I’m taking some time out, so I’m happy to get her, whenever. ’
‘Thanks, darling, that means a lot to me and your sister.’ Rita put her hand on his arm. ‘Did you get to talk to Poppy?’
Thom looked sheepish. ‘Yep, I think I underrated just how strong she is too, but I said my bit.’
Rita squeezed his arm. ‘Well, I’m not proud of you for what you did but at least you managed to make some kind of peace, from your side, anyway.’
Sennen scoured the courtyard for the Defender. ‘Where’s Jago?’
‘Lower fields. One of his fences came down and a ewe’s got herself tangled up. He said he’d come back as soon as he could with Stan and the trailer so we can get literally everything cleared and off site before the big day.’
‘See, he is a good ’un, Mum.’ Sennen smiled.
‘Yes, he said he would sort out sawdust for the blackened area, too, so at least it doesn’t look like we’ve had a fire.’
‘That’s a great plan.’ Thom nodded, then quizzed, ‘I’m surprised Teo and Zenya aren’t here?’
Rita chipped in. ‘They were so shattered, they’ve sorted the animals and I’ve given them the rest of the day off.
’ She could see the worry on Sennen’s face.
‘Tomorrow we are all action stations, promise.’ Rita sighed.
‘Right, I could be standing here all day waiting for this fire bloke; let’s go in, shall we? ’
They moved inside, the familiarity of the farmhouse kitchen wrapping around them like a comfort blanket. The kettle went on automatically. Some habits survived everything.
Sennen and Thom then exchanged a look, the kind that said, You start, without anyone having to say it.
Rita clocked it immediately. ‘What’s up?’
‘Granny said she saw someone,’ Sennen began. ‘Last night. Out by the barns.’
Rita’s forehead crinkled. ‘Saw someone how?’
‘On the cameras.’
‘She was very clear in what she said.’ Thom sighed. ‘And then the stupid old goose went out on her own to investigate. Hence her being in the café when the fire started by the sound of it.’
‘Oh my God.’ Rita was wide-eyed. ‘Deliberately started, you mean. Who? Why on earth?’
‘Let me do the tea, Mum; you sit down,’ Sennen ordered.
Thom helped his mum onto her chair where she placed her crutches carefully down next to her. ‘Get the security feed up on my laptop can you please, Thom,’ Rita instructed whilst putting tea bags in her favourite glass teapot.
They gathered around the kitchen table whilst Thom began to scroll through the footage from the night of the fire.
The image flickered into life, grainy but clear enough.
‘This one,’ Thom said, tapping the screen.
‘This was the camera on the side of the Nook. I noticed earlier. It’s gone.
Melted casing. Wires burned clean through.
But thankfully, the barn one is still there. ’
He swiped to the next feed. The barn door camera.
The image flickered into life, grainy but clear enough.
The image steadied, and there it was. A figure moving across the yard, a scarf pulled high over their face, hood up despite the mild night.
The same scarf Rita remembered seeing on the Ring doorbell footage when Hilda was away, looping, and familiar in a way that made her skin prickle.
The figure paused, just for a second, as if listening. Then they walked on.
They watched in silence as the person moved closer to the barn, then towards the Cosy Café. The figure went out of sight and was lost but Thom fast-forwarded the footage and ten minutes later they suddenly broke into a run across the screen.
‘Thom, go to the archive footage. It’s definitely the same person.’
Thom scrolled through dates then leaned closer to the screen. ‘Shit, good spot, Mum. It’s the way they move.’ He pointed at the screen slowly. ‘See it?’
Rita frowned. ‘What am I looking at?’
‘The stride. The hips. It’s… I don’t know. Lighter. More like a woman’s gait than a man’s.’
No one spoke for a moment.
‘You can’t tell that from that image surely, can you?’ Rita announced, though there was no conviction in her voice.
The kettle clicked off, startling them all.
Rita pushed herself upright. ‘Right. Enough guessing. The fire inspector’s due any minute. Get another mug out please, Sen.’
As if summoned, a car pulled into the courtyard. Rita watched through the window as a man in a black branded polo shirt got out, followed closely by a black Labrador, its paws encased in tiny protective booties. He had a clipboard in his hand.
Thom helped Rita to her feet. ‘Do you want me to come too, Mum?’
‘No, you have a rest, darling. It’s been an emotional couple of days,’ Rita said softly.
She made her way outside, crutches sinking slightly into the soft ground. The man looked up, his face open and friendly, lines etched around eyes that had clearly seen worse than this.
‘Morning, I’m guessing you must be Rita Jory? Ouch.’ He pointed to her ankle. ‘Caused during this?’
‘That’s me and afraid so; would you like a drink of something before you start?’
‘Mark Evans. Devon and Cornwall Fire Service and no, no thank you.’ He gestured to the dog, who sat obediently at his side, tail thumping once. ‘And this is Ash. He does the clever work.’
‘Aw, I just lost my black Lab, so this is a delight.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear that; like one of the family, aren’t they?’
‘They really are.’ Rita balanced and put her hand down to stroke the young dog’s silky ears. Then on seeing the protective coverings on its feet raised an eyebrow. ‘Booties?’
‘Hot spots. Sharp debris,’ Mark said easily. ‘He’s precious cargo.’
Ash looked up at Rita, dark eyes calm and curious. Tail wagging furiously.
‘Good to meet you, Ash,’ she said solemnly. ‘You behave yourself now, won’t you?’
Mark chuckled. ‘He’s better behaved than most people I know.’
‘I hear you there,’ Rita laughed back.
They walked slowly toward the barn, Mark matching his pace to Rita’s without comment. She appreciated that more than she could say. She was delighted to see the jukebox looking pretty much untouched in one of the open outhouses where other stuff had been thrown in at speed to save.
‘We’ve got CCTV,’ she said. ‘One camera didn’t survive the fire. Another did, and we’ve clocked a suspicious person.’
‘That’s helpful,’ Mark said mildly. ‘Let’s have a look around here first.’
Inside the little that remained of the Cosy Café, the smell of smoke lingered, sharp and unforgiving. Ash immediately went to work, nose low, movements precise. Mark watched him closely, his easy manner shifting into quiet focus.
‘Deliberate fires leave a trail,’ he said. ‘Even when people think they’ve been clever.’
Rita swallowed. ‘And if it was deliberate?’
Mark met her gaze. ‘Then we’ll know.’
Ash paused near the doorway, sat, and looked up.
Mark exhaled slowly. ‘That’s interesting.’
Rita’s grip tightened on her crutches. ‘What does that mean?’ Mark didn’t reply.
The Labrador nosed along the scorched ground, pausing and sniffing sharply near a corner at the back of the marquee. The melamine bench seats were blackened at the edges, the surface bubbled and curled where the heat had been fiercest, giving off a faint chemical tang.
The dog pawed at the earth and let out a short bark.
Mark exhaled slowly, crouching to examine the spot. ‘Hmm. Here we go.’
Rita’s grip tightened on her crutches. ‘What does that mean?’
‘This is where the fire started,’ he said, pointing to the blackened corner. ‘And not a foot further in.’ He nodded toward the dog. ‘That little fellow here is telling us something else too.’
The dog barked softly, pawing at a tiny piece of scorched paper half-buried in the ash-darkened wooden floorboards of the marquee.
Mark knelt, raising his camera to snap photos of the scene, the charred boards, the torn paper, and the blackened lantern lying on its side, one glass panel shattered, wax streaked across the scorched timber.
He lowered the camera and lifted the paper carefully with gloved hands, edges jagged, half a signature visible, and in the corner, barely visible, the Rosecliff Barns logo. He slipped it into a plastic evidence bag, sealing it with a snap.
Mark crouched lower, studying the scene. ‘Lantern’s been knocked,’ he muttered. ‘Candle’s fallen out.’
Gingerly, he lifted the warped lantern and placed it into a larger evidence bag.
He stood slowly, his gaze meeting Rita’s. His expression was calm but serious.
‘Could this lantern have been left alight by accident?’
Rita shook her head, her mind racing. ‘We usually only light them when there’s a gathering in here, but…
I guess a guest could have come in here or…
well, whoever we saw on the camera maybe?
’ Rita grimaced. ‘We had put a box of long matches on each table and added some fancy paper tablecloths in advance of the wedding party too, so…’
‘A fire hazard heaven.’ Mark crouched lower, glancing at the warped, blackened lantern. ‘So, it could have been knocked over.’ He paused. ‘Or dropped while lit, even?’
Rita swallowed. ‘Well, yes, of course. They have a carry handle so are not fixed.’
‘At this point, Mrs Jory’ – the inspector’s voice carried the weight of the moment – ‘I think it’s best we involve the police.’
Rita’s grip tightened on her crutches, her heart thudding, and she nodded, already knowing he was right.
Mark crouched back down and ruffled Ash’s ears.
‘Told you he’d behave, didn’t I?’ He reached into his pocket to bring out a chewy treat. Ash’s tail thumped as he gobbled it up, then looked up at Mark with bright, expectant eyes.
‘Good lad,’ Mark said, scratching behind his loyal companion’s ears.
‘He deserves a medal.’ Rita smiled, forgetting for one instant that if it hadn’t been an accident, who an earth might want to destroy her farm and why.
Ash gave a satisfied woof, clearly proud of himself.