Chapter Twenty-Six
TWENTY-SIX
Eleanor and Camilla were peeling potatoes when the phone rang. Eleanor hastily dried her hands and went to answer it.
“Aunt Nell, are you all right?”
“Yes, dear, perfectly. No slates off the roof, no rain seeping through the window frames.”
“Oh . . . Good. And everything else?”
“Now let me see, what other disasters might we anticipate? The phone lines haven’t blown down, obviously. The lights have flickered a few times but for the most part the electricity is working. Fortunately, as Cam and I have some unexpected guests for lunch.”
“Yes, I’m sorry about that, Aunt Nell. I only just found out about them. You weren’t supposed to be taking care of them.”
“That’s all right. Cam is helping me cook. She’s much better at it than I ever was or will be. The stuffing she made for the chicken smells divine.”
“She’s all right?”
“She gives every appearance of enjoying herself. Do you want a word with her?”
“No, no, never mind. It’s just that I feel sort of responsible for her.”
“I’d say you’ve made yourself responsible for her. But there’s nothing you can do for her at the moment. I’ll tell her you asked after her.”
“Please. You will be careful, won’t you?”
“If it’s still blowing like this in the morning, I’ll take one of your policemen to the shops with me to hold me down.”
Megan’s laugh was half-hearted. “Yes, make use of them. But promise you’ll ring right away if . . . anything happens? I’m at the nick, the Launceston police station, for the foreseeable future.”
“I’ll ring, unless what happens is that the phone lines go down.”
“Bless you, Aunt Nell. I—Sorry, I’ve got to go. ’Bye.”
Eleanor hung up thoughtfully. She was sure Megan had wanted to tell her something, restrained no doubt by the presence of Mr Scumble. Ah well, if it was important, no doubt she’d find out in due course.
Lunch for five was enough to worry about for the moment. She had just returned to the potato-peeling when the doorbell downstairs rang. Teazle barked and went to the door.
“Shall I go down?” Cam offered. “It must be Nick, mustn’t it? No one in their senses would come farther than from next door in this weather.”
“One of our detectives will get it,” Eleanor said, glancing back at the sitting-room window.
Rain battered the glass. She needn’t have looked, she could hear it.
Yet only occasional flurries hit the kitchen window, because of the lie of the land and the force and direction of the gale.
The wind whistled down the street between the buildings, though, and down the chimney in spite of the closed damper.
Thank heaven they had got home from Launceston before it really picked up.
She turned back to the potatoes. Fortunately she had bought several pounds on Friday with the intention of making leek and potato soup.
She had also bought a roasting chicken and invited Nick to Sunday lunch.
The leftovers would have lasted her through the week, but with Cam and two large policemen to feed as well, she could only be glad she had enough for all.
She hoped. Cam was delighted to help with the preparation.
She loved cooking and hadn’t had a chance to do much for a long time.
Though Eleanor had been careful not to ask questions, Cam had told her quite a lot this morning.
Her life had been difficult since she ran away from home, but she had chosen it and she didn’t complain.
Two things were obvious: that she was eager to see her parents and that she thought Megan was wonderful.
“Why isn’t he coming up?” she said now anxiously, stopping with her potato peeler in one hand and a half-peeled spud in the other. “Maybe it isn’t Nick?”
“I expect he’s talking to our tame policeman, whichever isn’t asleep in the stockroom.”
Camilla looked dismayed. “You mean, he’s being questioned?”
“I mean they’re chatting. Probably about the weather.”
“Oh, yes, I suppose so. Somehow I can’t imagine chatting with a policeman.”
“They’re just people, Cam, like Megan. They’re coming to lunch, remember. I hope you won’t refuse to speak to them.”
“Oh no, I promise.” Camilla went on thoughtfully, “Just people. Maybe I’ll go into the police instead of being a vet.”
“Concentrate on getting your A levels first, dear. There’s Nick knocking now. Come in!”
Nick’s slacks were paint-stained but he had put on an old tweed jacket over his shirt, probably to hide the paint on that. His hair was plastered to his head and his ponytail dripped behind. “Something smells good,” he said, sniffing. “Chicken!”
“Not in a basket. Roast, with roast potatoes. If your jacket’s as wet as your hair, Nick, you’d better take it off.”
“It’s not. I left my anorak downstairs in the custody of the police. The hood kept blowing off. I walked down to look at the harbour, Eleanor. The brook’s up over the bridge, but only by a few inches. The car park’s flooded too, of course. Lucky you thought of parking it up top.”
“Yes. I need it tomorrow to take Cam to Taunton.”
“Do you think the weather will be okay?” Cam asked.
“I hope so! What do you think, Nick?”
“The harder it blows, the sooner it goes. If that isn’t an olde Cornish proverb, it ought to be.”
Whether it was an old Cornish proverb or not, Nick’s saying proved accurate. At about four, the wind suddenly dropped completely. The squalls turned to a fine mizzle that was not enough to deter Eleanor.
“I’m going for a walk, Cam.”
Teazle jumped up, tail wagging madly.
“She knows that word all right!”
“Do you want to come?”
“Would you like me to?”
“I’d be happy to have your company, or happy on my own. It’s your choice.”
“I haven’t got a coat.”
Eleanor found a jacket and a headscarf for Camilla.
By that time the rain had stopped altogether, and Teazle was whining impatiently at the door.
They went downstairs. Polmenna and Wilkes jumped to their feet from the cane-bottomed chairs Eleanor had provided from the stockroom.
Now she would find out whether the two officers were guarding the premises or the people.
“It’s cleared up. We’re going for a walk.”
“Oh!” They looked at each other. Polmenna said, “Er, would you mind awfully waiting for a few minutes, Mrs Trewynn? Wilkes has just been up to the car and radioed, and our reliefs’ll be here very shortly.”
“You can send them after us, then. We’re only going up the hill and along the cliff path.”
“But—”
“I’m sure you can sort it out between you,” Eleanor said with a smile. “Come on, Cam, in case the rain starts again. Goodbye, gentlemen.”
They went on their way. It wasn’t till they reached the top of the hill and gazed down at the stormy sea, beating against the headland in great clouds of spray, that Eleanor realised she not only hadn’t locked the flat, she hadn’t even brought her keys.
Oh well, she thought, she had two policemen guarding it, or at least one, if the other had followed them.
She refused to look back to find out, and Camilla seemed to have forgotten them altogether.
The seaside to her meant a summer day trip to Minehead on a crowded coach, with sandwiches on the beach and an icecream for a treat.
She was thrilled by the crashing waves, thunderous even here high above the flying spume.
The last clouds dissipated and the sun shone. A herring gull came to tease Teazle, floating in effortless circles above them.
Cam flung her arms wide and cried, “Isn’t it wonderful?”
When they turned back, there was no sign of the detectives. But as they approached the village, they saw Polmenna leaning against the fence of the first house, a bed-and-breakfast place.
“Oh no!” Camilla groaned. “Why can’t they leave us alone? I don’t want them following me home.”
“No. I’m not acquainted with your parents but somehow I don’t think the return of the Prodigal Daughter with the police on her tail would go down well. Don’t worry, if they’re still around tomorrow, we’ll evade them.”
On Monday, DCs Wilkes and Polmenna were back on guard duty. The weather was still fine, though the early morning air was chilly. Eleanor, tired of being constantly under surveillance, hardened her heart and didn’t invite them into the passage.
When the shops opened at nine, she and Camilla and Teazle went out to restock her depleted larder.
Wilkes, looking embarrassed, trailed them up the hill to the mini-supermarket, back down to the greengrocer, and lastly to the bakery.
Obviously the police were determined to keep an eye on her and Camilla as well as the site of the murder.
To Eleanor’s relief, he didn’t go so far as to follow them into the shops, instead staying outside with Teazle. She chatted with several people without being asked about the murder—apparently it was a six-day wonder, or else the villagers had resumed their natural polite reticence.
Coming out of the bakery, she saw Jocelyn going into the LonStar shop opposite.
“Oh, good,” she said to Camilla, who was carrying the basket.
“Let’s go and put this stuff away and then we can find you some decent clothes, I hope.
I’ve still got most of the money the police gave me to outfit you.
I’ll have to give it back if we don’t spend it, so let’s hope Mrs Stearns can find things you like. She knows exactly where everything is.”
Camilla sighed. “It’ll be nice to buy some clothes, but I expect I’d better get what Mum and Dad would like me to wear, not what I’d choose for myself, don’t you think?”
“That’s a very good idea.” Sensible was the word that came to mind, but Eleanor wasn’t sure Cam would care to be called sensible. “What do they like to see you in?”
“Skirts,” she said gloomily. “And not mini-skirts, either.”
“Oh.” Eleanor looked down at the tweed skirt she wore for shopping at this time of year.
“Then I expect I’d better keep this on instead of changing into the tracksuit I usually wear for collecting in the country.
You won’t mind if we stop here and there on our way, to pick up donations for LonStar. ”
Jocelyn had just opened the shop. She managed to find several parent-pleasing outfits for Camilla.
While the skirts and tops didn’t exactly thrill the girl, at least she didn’t say she wouldn’t be seen dead in them, though that might have been because she seemed to find Jocelyn rather alarming.
A pair of shoes in the latest style cheered her up.
They were in perfect condition, probably a donation from someone trying to fit into a size smaller than was practicable.
Jocelyn also dug up a pair of walking shoes and a bag to pack everything in.
“Thank you, Mrs Stearns,” Cam said earnestly. “It’s ever so kind of you to go to so much trouble.”
“I’m glad we were able to fit you out. Now run along, dear. I have some business to discuss with Mrs Trewynn.”
“Put a kettle on, will you, Cam?” said Eleanor. “I’m dying for a cup of coffee. Thanks, Joce,” she went on as the girl departed, laden. “I hate shopping for clothes for myself, and shopping for someone else is even worse. I’m exhausted.”
“Who is she?” Jocelyn demanded. “All you’ve told me is that she’s a witness.”
“She’s a child who made a bad mistake. Thanks to Megan, it looks as if we’re going to be able to put things right. At bottom, she’s a very nice girl, and bright. I really can’t tell you any more now, or Mr Scumble would have my blood. Not that I know very much more.”
“That man! I take it he’s responsible for the policemen keeping the shop under surveillance?”
“Oh dear, they’re not very good at being inconspicuous, are they?”
“Since at least three people have asked me this morning what they’re up to, I’d have to say no, they’re not.”
“If it’s any comfort, they seem more interested in Cam and me, not the shop. One of them came to the shops with us. Joce, I’m taking Cam home to her parents this afternoon, and I don’t want those two following us. How can I get her away?”
“Do you think that’s wise? After all, that man is investigating a murder, though he doesn’t seem to be getting very far.”
“I’ll be coming straight home after dropping her, and if he can persuade me he really needs to know, of course I’ll tell him how to find her.”
“You’d better tell me where you’re going, just in case. You can write it down, and I won’t even look myself, unless that man can persuade me he really needs to know.”
“And you’re much less persuadable than I am,” Eleanor said, laughing. “All right. But I’m going to do some collecting along the way, so I’ll have to work out exactly which way we’ll go. I’ll drop off our itinerary before we leave. If you can suggest how to elude our watchdogs.”
“I’ve got an idea.” She explained.
“Good heavens, Joce, I’d never have expected such deviousness from you!”
“Only because you’re escaping from that man.”
“Never mind your justification. It’s positively sneaky. We’ll try it.”