Chapter Thirteen #2
At the end of the row she turned back. Teazle rejoined her as she reached her own back door.
Nick was listening to the second half of Beethoven’s Pastoral now.
Eleanor had never had much opportunity for listening to classical music, but she did recognise that.
The shepherds’ hymn of thanksgiving after the storm exactly suited her mood—
—Until she heard her phone ringing upstairs.
Cursing the tyranny of machines, in ordinary times she would have let it ring and assumed the caller would ring back later if it were important.
In view of recent events, she hurried in and ran up the stairs, only to discover that she had relocked the flat door behind her when she went out, and left the keys in the downstairs door when she came in.
As soon as she started back down, the ringing stopped.
Teazle sat at the bottom, regarding her with a bewildered look.
Sighing, Eleanor continued down, took her keys from the back door and closed it, returned upstairs, and unlocked her flat door.
The dog stayed at the foot of the stairs, watching her as if uncertain of the next move in the game. Eleanor called her and she scuttled up.
During the course of these manoeuvres, Eleanor had been vaguely aware of Nick’s telephone ringing next door. It stopped after a couple of rings, so she assumed he had answered it and thought no more about it.
A few minutes later came the sound of someone bounding up her stairs two at a time and knocking vigorously on her door. She was filling her hot water bottle, so she called, “Come in!” then wondered whether she had locked the door.
Nick came in, jingling her keys in midair. “My dear Eleanor, I’ve just received a frantic phone call from the vicar, who seems to be convinced the bad guys have got you.”
“Oh dear, that must have been him calling.” She squeezed the air from the hot water bottle and screwed in the top. “I heard the phone but couldn’t get to it in time. But why on earth did he want to talk to me? I mean, rather than Joce.”
“She’s at some meeting or other, I gather. But don’t change the subject. The bad guys, if so minded, could have got you easily. These were in the flat door up here, and you’d left the downstairs door unlocked.”
“I refuse to believe that the vicar said anything whatsoever about ‘bad guys.’ ”
“Well, no, not in so many words. I can’t remember: Midianites? They were bad guys, weren’t they? Or could it have been worshippers of Baal? Or simply the forces of evil, perhaps? At any rate, I was adjured to make all haste to rescue you from their toils.”
“Much ado about nothing.” Eleanor’s friends had no conception of the dangers she had faced in troubled parts of the world, because she didn’t like to talk about such things.
In spite of the murder, she couldn’t really believe she wasn’t perfectly safe here in England, in the quiet village, in her cosy cottage.
“I’d better ring up and tell him I’m perfectly all right.
I don’t really believe the burglars will come back again.
Whatever Mr Scumble says, surely they must realise that the police have taken the jewelry. ”
“I would remind you that it wasn’t taken into custody till today. “
“And the police are watching front and back.”
“I presume Mrs Stearns doesn’t know about them, or she didn’t tell the vicar, or he didn’t grasp the fact. In any case, he didn’t mention it, and I haven’t seen any sign of them.”
“They’re supposed to keep out of sight, so as not to tip off the bad guys.”
“Then they’re doing a good job of that, at least. The one at the back must be under a gorse bush.
There isn’t really anywhere to hide at the front, in the street, though, so he can’t be close enough to be useful in an emergency.
So if you wish your friends to retain their sanity, you will contrive to lock your doors until the police have caught these particular bad guys. ”
“I don’t leave them unlocked on purpose.”
“I know. That’s why I’ve been sent to make sure they’re secured.”
“Well, since you’re here, would you like some cocoa? I was just going to make a cup.”
“I’d adore some cocoa.”
“You’ll have to make it. I’m going to pop this into my bed and then phone the vicar.”
Nick laughed. “Yes’m.”
“Everything’s ready. Just find yourself another mug.”
When she came down, she checked that he was keeping an eye on the heating milk to make sure it didn’t boil over, then she dialled the vicarage. The phone rang several times before it was answered.
“Vicar, this is Eleanor.”
“Ah, hm, Eleanor?” he said uncertainly.
“Eleanor Trewynn. You sent Nick Gresham over to make sure I was all right?”
“Ah, yes, Mrs Trewynn. And are you?”
“Am I . . . ? Oh, all right. Yes, perfectly, thank you. There’s really no need to worry about me.”
“Jocelyn had a telephone call from someone . . . a police officer, could it be? Yes, of course, your niece.”
“Megan?”
“Er, yes. She seemed to be under the impression, if I’m not mistaken, that you were still staying here. At the vicarage.”
Eleanor didn’t want to confuse the poor man still further by asking why Megan hadn’t rung her at home.
No doubt she’d been in a hurry. But if she believed Eleanor was still at the vicarage, she wouldn’t have had any reason to remind her to lock her doors, so her call must have had some other purpose.
Jocelyn had been in a hurry, also, to get to her meeting. Goodness knows how many messages had been lost in transit. She could only hope none were urgent. She was tired of the whole business.
She thanked the vicar once more for his concern and said good-night.
Nick brought her cocoa and sat down with his own on the other side of the fireplace. Eleanor had lit a small fire of driftwood earlier. Nick put another small log on. It crackled satisfyingly, flickering with multi-coloured flames.
“Lilac for potassium and green for sodium,” Nick said reflectively, gazing into the fire. “Or vice versa. Or possibly neither. Chemistry was not my best subject at school.”
“I’d have thought you’d remember colours, if nothing else.”
“I remember coloured flames, just not their significance. People do expect one to remember the most uninteresting things.”
“Like locking doors,” Eleanor said dryly, “and where one put one’s keys.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t getting at you, honestly. I have no difficulty understanding why you forget. Which isn’t to say I shall leave without making sure you lock up. I promised the vicar, and by proxy Mrs Stearns, terrifying woman.”
“I don’t believe for a moment that she terrifies you.”
“You’d be surprised. She’d never forgive me if the burglars came back and walked in without even having to pick the lock.
Not that I think there’s much danger of them returning.
” He sipped his cocoa. “You know, horrible as this has been for you, as far as I’m concerned it’s been extremely good for business.
People come in to ask me what’s going on next door and, except for the reporters, most haven’t the cheek to walk out without looking round.
Having got that far, a few find my work irresistible, or more likely they want something to prove they weren’t just being nosy.
Mostly they’ve been buying the cheapest things they can find, the flower paintings, but I’ve sold five landscapes in two days. ”
“It’s an ill wind—”
“And every cloud has a silver lining. It’s a pity LonStar can’t take advantage of it.”
“I suppose so, though in some ways I’m glad we can’t. But Nick, you haven’t been giving people information, have you?”
“Nothing more than they can read in the papers,” he reassured her, “recast in my own words. I don’t want the Scumble descending on me like a ton of bricks, believe me.
Even if they don’t learn anything new, they like to hear it from the horse’s mouth.
And now that’s enough proverbs and clichés for one evening.
If you’ve finished your cocoa, you can just come down and let me listen to the sound of the back-door lock turning. ”
He took both mugs to the kitchen, put them in the sink, and ran cold water into them.
“Thank you,” Eleanor said. “Stay, Teazle, you don’t need another outing.” She opened the door.
There was a jingling sound behind her and Nick laughed. “Here, haven’t you forgotten something?” He handed her the keys.