Murder in House (6 page)

Ellie agreed, wincing at the thought of the unused upper storey at her own house. Was she right to refuse Diana houseroom there? Oh dear, but it would be torture. No peace and quiet.

Gloria drained her mug. ‘Thing is, Dan may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer but he's a faithful soul, never looked at anyone else. I could see he was worried about something this last month or so, but I thought it was Ursula going off to the States for the holidays, and Lloyd getting himself killed. And of course it was the first Christmas Dan's father's not been here. Dan moped the whole time, bit my nose off . . . you know how it is with teenagers, wouldn't settle to anything. I thought everything would be all right when she got back.

‘He tore out to Heathrow Airport to meet her, and she came round to give me a present she'd bought me in New York. After that we saw neither hide nor hair of her, and his temper went from bad to worse. I thought maybe she'd found someone else, had her eyes opened by the talent over there. Nice girl, but I've no illusions about my son because he's no high-flyer, and she . . . yes, she is. Perhaps in a way I'm relieved, if you see what I mean.'

Ellie saw.

‘Kids. Who'd have them, eh?'

Ellie agreed with her. ‘How many have you . . .?'

‘Three. Girl, married. A bit quick with the sprogs; two so far in two years. Son-in-law's all right. Working for the council. Then Dan. Then my youngest – he's the one who's playing his music too loud upstairs. He's still at school, hoping for university. Wants to do medicine; not a doctor. Physio. Do you know anyone who would like to rent a room? I've a vacancy now, and could do with the rent.'

‘I'll ask around. Ursula told me someone – a friend? – had died early in the new year. You knew the lad?'

‘To be honest, I was really surprised when I heard. Disappointed too. I didn't think he was much of a drinker and certainly not into drugs. But maybe . . . what do I know, as Dan says? End of term party, everyone having a ball, letting their hair down. Kids!'

‘Do you mean . . . did he lodge here?'

‘Back room, top floor. Kept it tidy and kept the noise down, unlike most. He played music all right, but not the bang bang junkety sort, if you know what I mean. I'll miss him, tell the truth. Used to make me laugh; always paid his rent on time. Not like some of the others, puking up all over the place and expecting me to clean up after them. His parents were that shocked. Elderly, Welsh Baptist or Methodist, church goers, anyway. He was their bright hope. They couldn't believe their boy was just like the rest of them, but I suppose he only did what everyone else was doing.' She sighed heavily. ‘Want to see his room? Then if you know of someone who might like it . . .?'

‘I'd love to.'

Mrs Collins picked up a bunch of keys from the muddle on her table, and led the way up carpeted stairs to the first floor, and then up an uncarpeted flight to the attic rooms. It was a big house. Five doors confronted them on the top landing. Two were half open, one leading to a small kitchen, and the other to a bathroom. The third and fourth – which would overlook the road – had posters and stickers all over them. One sported a Halloween mask hanging from a nail. The fourth door was unmarked, and locked.

‘Have to keep the doors locked or they pinch stuff from one another, and move their friends in overnight,' said Mrs Collins. ‘If they want to bring a friend in for a night, they can pay me double rent, right?'

The room that had been Lloyd's was bright and airy, clean and tidy. The furnishings were reasonably new, and the furniture mismatched but serviceable. The window looked out over back gardens below. There was no sign of anything belonging to the previous occupant, except for an intangible something that Ellie could only describe as ‘serenity'. She was familiar with this, because it always hung around the places in which Thomas had been praying. Not everyone would have noticed it, but she knew straight away.

‘Was Lloyd a Christian?'

‘Yeah, yeah. Went to church, joined some sort of fellowship, but not a peep out of them after he died. I had to pack up all his stuff for his parents to collect when they came up for the cremation. I thought they'd want to take him back home to bury him, but they said they were too ashamed. I said no one needed to know he'd got into a drunken fight over a girl that caused him to go overboard, but they didn't see it that way. If he'd been my lad, I'd have stood by him, I can tell you that for nothing.'

‘Sad,' murmured Ellie. ‘He was a student, too?'

‘Teacher training like my Dan, but bright with it. Maths was his subject and he could twist numbers every which way. When I got in a tangle with my bills, he'd help me sort them out. And he never brought a girl home with him, not once.'

‘Thank you for showing me. If I hear of anyone . . .'

‘You do that.' Mrs Collins relocked the door and led the way down to the ground floor. The door to Dan's room was still open. He hadn't returned yet, and he hadn't locked it behind him. Mrs Collins said ‘Tck!' and sought for the right key to lock the door with, but Ellie was quicker. She slipped into the room to pick up some of the torn-up photos on the floor.

‘Is this Lloyd?' she asked, holding up a picture of Ursula, with half of her face missing. She was snuggling up to a little dark-haired girl, while an attractive blond man grinned at the camera over their two heads.

‘Hm? What's he torn his photos up for? Look at the mess he's made. No, that's not Lloyd. He's got a mop of dark hair, looks very Welsh if you know what I mean. That's Anthony. Or maybe it's his brother, whose name I always forget. They're not twins but do look alike.'

Intrigued, Mrs Collins began to pick up the pieces of photo herself. ‘Now, here's Lloyd in the background, behind Ursula and Dan. That's Mia Prior, of course. The little dark girl, wonderful eyes, hasn't she? She's their stepsister, daughter of the current Mrs Prior by her first husband. The boys are from his first wife, who's gone to live in Spain with her personal trainer, if you believe the gossip. And yes, there's Timothy Long-legs. Well, that's what they called him, some of the time. Dumbo, otherwise. I don't know why. Nice lad. Perfectly all right, not dumb at all.'

‘Here's Dan again,' said Ellie, also collecting scraps. ‘And this one . . . is this the one you called Anthony again? Or his brother? They look alike, don't they? Are they at teacher training college as well?'

Mrs Collins snorted. ‘Chance would be a fine thing. There's money in that family. Silver spoon, know what I mean? What a shame; here's a lovely picture of Dan but his left arm's missing. I think that was taken the day they all went on the river last summer. Hired a boat and went up past Henley, all got a bit high, drank too much, someone fell overboard, can't remember who now, but no harm done, except they all came back red as lobsters from sunburn. Why has he torn them all up?'

‘I expect they remind him of happier times. How did Dan and Ursula come to know this Anthony and Timothy, if they're so well off, and he isn't?'

‘School. My husband that was, he paid for the boys to go to a private school at first, which is where Dan met up with the Priors. But then money got tight and our boys had to go to the nearest state school instead, which wasn't bad at all, let me tell you. That's where Dan met Ursula. Anthony and his lot, they liked having Dan and Ursula around, and some of my other lads who lodge here as well. My husband that was used to say the private school gave the lads an important start in life, because it was all about who you knew. Maybe he was right.' Mrs Collins blinked. ‘It didn't do Lloyd much good though, did it?'

‘Why don't you keep that good picture of Dan? You could have it enlarged, put it in a frame?'

Mrs Collins sniffed, but stowed the picture away.

Ellie said, ‘Do you think Dan will want to keep these pieces? Maybe Ursula would like them to remind her, eventually.'

‘Take them if you like. And tell her from me . . . no, don't bother. I wouldn't know what to say. Good luck, perhaps? I suppose I may see her about town some time. She usually comes back for weekends. I only hope my son knows what he's doing, letting her go like that.'

‘I'll stick them together and take some copies so if you want one, just give me a ring and I'll pop one in the post to you.' She tore a page out of the back of her diary, and wrote down her home phone number for Mrs Collins. ‘By the way, what's Ursula's surname, and can you give me her address? Dan said to return the ring to her. Unless you'd like to?'

‘Ursula Belton. It might be best if you did it. She and her mother live in one of those ground floor flats along the Avenue. I'm not sure of the number, but it's in the first block of flats that you come to on the left after the library.'

FOUR

E
llie put Ursula's ring in her coin purse for safe keeping and made her way across the park to the house that her architect cousin Roy had revamped for his wife Felicity and their baby Mel.

The weather wasn't improving, but Ellie stopped on the way to buy some bits and pieces for supper. Her new grey skirt was getting decidedly tight around the middle, and as for Thomas, he'd always had an ample frontage, and the sooner he went on a diet the better. It was no good pretending that one could lose weight without dieting, but Thomas wouldn't eat a plain salad without a lot of dressing on it, so she must make a salad dish appetizing with red, yellow and green peppers, chicory, and tiny red tomatoes to add to the usual lettuce and cucumber. He might well enjoy that with some good balsamic vinegar over all.

He'd probably want a good solid soup, beforehand. He really ought to have a non-fattening soup made without potatoes or cornflour, but the weather was awful and he must have something starchy to keep him going. She found a soya ice cream that would do for afters; tasty but not fattening.

It started to rain again as she reached Felicity's. She'd done more walking than usual, which might be good for her but was somewhat tiring, so she looked forward to a good sit-down and perhaps a bite of lunch.

Only, Felicity was not alone. She had recently made friends with Caroline Topping, a neighbour who'd also come late to childbearing, and they often popped into one another's houses for a coffee. Felicity, ripely blonde with a figure that was filling out in response to a happy marriage and her own love of cooking, let Ellie in while jiggling little Mel in her arms.

‘Come on in. What filthy weather. I'd forgotten you were coming, but I've just made a mushroom risotto that can easily do for three. You know Caroline, don't you?'

Ellie did. She blew her nose. Coming in from the cold always started her sneezing. Caroline's toddler held up his arms for Ellie to pick him up, which she did with only the slightest of groans. Her back was twinging again. This cold weather . . .

A chaotic lunchtime passed with the three women fielding food and toddlers, spooning in food here, supplying drink, mopping faces and hands, and managing to eat a few mouthfuls themselves between whiles. Ellie enjoyed it, but she had to admit it was blissful when Caroline took Duncan away and Mel was settled down for her afternoon nap. Felicity wiped down surfaces while Ellie stacked the dishwasher.

Felicity sighed. ‘It's so dark. I hate January.'

Ellie said, ‘Buy some daffodils, or one of those sun-effect lamps. Don't you want a rest when Mel's asleep? It was the only way I could make both ends of the day meet when Diana was young.'

‘I would normally, but I wanted to talk to you before Roy gets home. It's a something and a nothing. Probably a nothing.' She made some coffee and sat at the table, stirring the coffee in her cup but not adding any sugar. ‘What do you think about jinxes, Ellie?'

Ellie tried not to smile, because Felicity was looking so serious. ‘What sort?'

‘Prior's Place.'

Ellie refrained from comment. She'd a bad feeling about it too. ‘Roy got involved, financially?'

‘The building was designed by a much bigger practice, but Roy designed the health centre on the ground floor and basement. It's really striking, very upmarket, designed to appeal to people with lots of money. I know Miss Quicke advised Roy against putting money into it and you did, too, but—'