Chapter Eight
MAG FOLLOWED JEN TO THE DOOR.
‘I’ll come down with you and keep an eye on the bar, while Daniel helps you take the stuff to Tide House.’
Another family was sitting at a table in the sun. Mag waved to them. Jen thought she’d be a brilliant landlady, friendly. It would take the same skill set perhaps as social work.
There were two cardboard boxes on a table just inside the pub, one filled with sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof paper, a pile of crisps on top, and the other with cans of Coke and lemonade.
‘That one will be heavy,’ Mag said. ‘Let Daniel carry that. He’s a strong boy, works out at the gym.’
‘Are you sure I can’t pay?’
The woman shook her head. ‘Just find the bastards that did this.’
The two old men were still in the corner, staring and listening to every word.
They turned down the lane towards Tide House and walked past the entrance to the farm.
Daniel had headphones on, listening to his music.
Mag had been right: he carried the heavy box without any effort.
Jen had thought Daniel would have been as curious as the elderly drinkers about the drama on his doorstep, that he’d have questions about what had happened to the Armstrongs, but he seemed lost in his own world.
Then she thought about Ben, her son. He had no curiosity at all about other people’s business.
His life was lived mostly second-hand via his devices.
Halfway down the track, Jen nudged the barman to take off the headphones.
‘Hey, mate, I could do with a word.’
He slipped them from his ears so they hung round his neck.
‘Are you local?’ They were approaching Tide House. There was intermittent shade. She could hear distant voices from the team at the house.
‘I live in Torr. My parents bought a place there during lockdown. They have their own business and can work from home. We’re all into surfing, and they bought the place on impulse. A kind of Covid cabin fever drove them to scroll through all the property websites. I thought it was crazy.’
Rich then. Homes in Torr didn’t come cheap. They might not be as pricey as some of the pretty surfing villages, but you’d still need a few bob.
Jen was curious. ‘Are they settling in?’
‘Yeah.’ His voice was dismissive. ‘Most of their friends are like them. Freelancers who’ve moved from the city. Torr’s like a little bougie bit of London or Bristol but close to good beaches.’
‘What about you?’
‘Yeah, it’s okay.’ He seemed about to replace the headphones when he realized that she was waiting for more.
‘I’m at uni. Cambridge. I work at the Fisherman’s during vacations.
My parents expect it. They say I should support myself during the holidays and good surf gear costs a fortune.
’ He grimaced as though the expectation was unreasonable.
‘You worked at MillsFest yesterday?’
He nodded. ‘Mag and Jim wanted to be back at the pub for Sunday lunch, so they asked me to man the beer tent.’
‘What was it like?’
He shrugged. ‘Hardly banging. Middle-of-the-road music for middle-aged people and latter-day hippies. A couple of the bands were okay, I guess.’
‘There must have been some young people there. Hannah Armstrong from Tide House and her friend Lottie.’
He paused for a moment and shifted the weight of the box he was carrying.
‘Yeah, they were there.’
‘And?’ She was starting to lose patience.
‘And nothing. They were there, but I was working. Pulling a lot of pints.’ His mouth snapped shut.
‘You must know Jake too? You’re around the same age, and he works occasionally at the pub.’
‘I suppose. We don’t have much else in common, though.
’ The voice was a little sneering. He was at a fancy uni and Jake worked on the family farm.
All her prejudices came to the surface. Then, before she could spit out some retort, she heard the boss’s voice in her head, gentle and mocking.
Sometimes you should lose that chip on your shoulder, Sergeant.
Drop the preconceptions. It takes time to understand what’s really going on with a person.
So, she let the sneer hang in the air without challenge. Now, they’d reached the cordon at the gate into Tide House. ‘Just leave the box here,’ she said. ‘We can take it in.’ A pause. ‘Thanks for your help.’
Daniel lowered the box to the floor, returned his headphones and sauntered away, swaying slightly to the music. Jen watched him go until he’d turned a corner in the lane.
They ate their packed lunch on the terrace where Venn had chatted to Paul Armstrong.
The CSIs had already checked it, and it was a long way from the pool, so the crime scene manager cleared it for their use.
From here they could still look out over the sea to Lundy, though, and apart from the burst of conversation when they shared ideas about the case, there was an incongruous sense that they were at a picnic on the beach.
The sandwiches were delicious and soon disappeared.
Jen was sitting next to Ross. The early start, the sun and the food began to make her sleepy.
A couple of cocktails and she could imagine herself at a holiday resort.
She roused herself, got to her feet and stretched. ‘Shall we head up to the farm and take those statements? I want to know more about why Lottie left the festival before Hannah last night.’
She was picturing Daniel, the barman’s, reaction when she’d mentioned the girls’ names.
He’d seemed wary and defensive. Hannah was already involved with Jake, but Lottie was a free agent, wasn’t she?
She and Daniel were both good-looking young people.
Was he the reason she’d disappeared from the farm?
The timing might work, if Daniel had joined her once the beer tent was closed and cleared.
Jen could imagine them together, joyous at the prospect of having Tide House to themselves for the night.
A pool for skinny-dipping. The heat of the day captured there, reflected from the white walls, and the cool of the water.
‘We taking the car?’ Ross stood and yawned.
‘Nah, we’ll walk. It’s not far.’ She wanted time to formulate the questions she’d need to ask.
He pulled a face, which reminded her of her son when she was on a health kick and suggested a hike into Exmoor.
They walked in silence. Venn hadn’t mentioned any sort of post-festival gathering in the farmhouse the night before, and he would have done if the Brennans had discussed it with him.
Yet Mag had described a party leaving them with a hangover the following day.
Jen wondered if the farmers hadn’t spoken of it out of respect for their son’s dead girlfriend – talk of a boozy celebration might be embarrassing at a time of such tragedy – or shock, or because the family hadn’t considered it relevant.
After all, Hannah had still been alive and in Jake’s bed hours later.
They’d already reached the road. The pub garden next to it, separated from it by a rope strung between posts, was empty.
Through the window she could see that the two old blokes were still nursing their pints.
They stared out at her and one of them gave her a wave.
They were nosy and gobby and would certainly be worth talking to at some point.
Mag would be able to provide their names and addresses.
The track to the farmhouse was in full sunlight and Jen was sweating by the time they reached it.
Perhaps she should have driven after all, though Ross seemed perfectly comfortable in the heat.
Next to the house there was a small barn, which seemed to act as an occasional farm shop.
Opening hours were posted on the door. It didn’t open on a Monday.
A door into the farmhouse was ajar, and they looked in at an untidy boot room. A dog woke up and stared at them but made no sound.
Jen banged on the door. ‘Hello! Okay to come in?’
‘Yeah.’ A woman’s voice. They walked through into a cluttered kitchen. Tessa Brennan was sitting at the table. She looked up as they approached, but the movement seemed to take an effort. It was as if she was exhausted.
‘More police,’ she said. ‘What is it this time?’
Jen wondered how she could tell just at a glance who they were. Perhaps Tessa could see what she was thinking.
‘We cancelled the campers who were going to come today. None of us could face it and it didn’t seem right.
Friends of ours have a site in Croyde and they agreed to take them.
The Americans are still here of course. We didn’t have the heart to boot them out, and they’re glamping at the other end of the field. We hardly know they’re there.’
‘They were with you, though, at your party last night.’ Without being asked Jen took another of the chairs at the table.
Tessa shot them a glance. ‘You know about that? I suppose there aren’t any secrets if you’re investigating a murder.’ She paused. ‘What do they call you two then?’
Jen let Ross go first and then introduced herself.
‘You’re not from round here,’ Tessa said to Jen. ‘Not from your voice.’
‘Only by adoption.’
‘Like me then.’
Tessa nodded towards Ross. ‘He is, though. Sometimes it feels as if there are hardly any of you locals left. It makes folk like my Bob and the Hoopers resentful. Sometimes I feel like a second-class citizen in my own home, the way I’m looked at when I open my gob.
’ She sighed. ‘What is it you want now then?’
‘To take a statement,’ Jen said. ‘To go through the details.’
‘We’ve told that inspector everything we know.’
‘And I expect he explained that it would need to be done officially.’
Reluctantly, Tessa nodded again.
‘But we can save a bit of time and record it. Talk me through yesterday. Right from the beginning.’ She put her phone on the table and switched it to record.
‘The festival was Bob’s idea. A way to make a bit of cash, with loads of tourists in the area, and he’s always been into his music.
He plays himself a bit, used to be in a band.
Guitar, and he’s got a lovely voice. We started letting campers into the field last year, but although the glamping pods are usually booked up, we haven’t got much in the way of facilities, so we don’t get many people with their own tents.
Not for more than a few days. We sold day and weekend festival tickets and asked Marigold to do the beer tent.
Hired the portable toilets. There were a couple of street food vans and Bob set up a barbecue, cooking our own burgers.
They went down a storm. It was lovely. Chilled. ’
‘Did Hannah and Lottie go home to Tide House on Saturday night? Hannah didn’t stay the night with Jake?’
‘No, the girls went back together. They left when the music stopped at about midnight. Jake still had work to do, and I assume they didn’t fancy litter-picking and dealing with the composting loos.
’ She paused again. ‘That’s not fair. Hannah offered to help, but that Lottie dragged her back, saying she wanted to swim in the Tide House pool, because it was a full moon.
’ Tessa looked up. ‘Shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but I couldn’t take to that girl. ’
‘Why not?’
Tessa shrugged. ‘There was something snooty about her. Polite enough on the surface, but condescending, you know, as if she was doing us a favour by being here.’ A pause. ‘Name-dropping all the famous people her mother worked with. Telling us how she nearly got to swim in the Olympics.’
‘What time did they come on the Sunday?’
‘Hannah was here first. Nine-ish. Again, offering to help. Lottie swanned in about midday. I didn’t see either of them after that until we were starting to wrap up. I was in the house all day, prepping for Bob’s barbecue.’
‘When did it wrap up?’
‘The music stopped at six and some people left before then, wanting to get their cars out of the field before the rush.’
‘Then you invited Mag and Jim, and your American guests, into the house for a party?’
‘Not a real party,’ Tessa said. ‘It wasn’t that organized.
Bob was high as a kite, with the music and it being such a success.
He’d not had a drink all weekend, because he’d wanted to keep on top of things.
One of his mates – a fiddle player from Barnstaple – was getting a lift home from his girlfriend, but she’s a nurse and her shift didn’t finish ’til ten, so he was around.
We wanted to thank Mag and Jim Hooper for all their help.
Jim can be a difficult sod, but he worked like a trooper on Saturday.
Karen and Geoff Kinzalow just happened to be outside. ’
‘You didn’t invite Daniel, even though he’d manned the bar all afternoon?’
Tessa shook her head. ‘Like I said, it was just for friends.’
‘And you didn’t count Lottie as a friend.’ It wasn’t a question.
Tessa gave a little laugh. ‘I would have invited her, to be nice to Hannah, but by the time the field was cleared, she’d already waltzed off.’
‘Did she leave the same time as Daniel?’
‘You think they left together? Maybe, but I didn’t see. Jake might know.’ A pause. ‘You can see how the two of them might have got on.’
Throughout the interview Ross had been unusually quiet. Now, he added a comment.
‘Both young. Both snobby incomers.’
‘Yeah,’ Tessa said. ‘Something like that.’
‘Tell me what happened then.’ Jen wondered if Ross had ever considered her a snobby incomer too, then thought nobody ever thought of Scousers as snobby.
‘I pulled together some food. Nothing fancy. Cheese and bread and cold meat. A couple of the quiche we sell in the farm shop. A bit of salad. John, Bob’s mate, played a few tunes and after a couple of pints Bob joined in with his guitar.
Jake and Hannah stopped for supper but then they headed off to his room.
To listen to their kind of music, they said.
It was almost eleven by the time John’s girlfriend turned up and Mag and Jim didn’t leave until after that.
I sent Bob to bed as soon as they went, tidied up a bit and then went up myself.
It had been a good night with friends.’ She paused again.
‘I couldn’t believe it when your inspector turned up in the morning with his talk of murder. ’