No Known Grave (30 page)

Mrs. McHattie sighed. “No, I suppose it’s not out of character, as you put it. I knew when she told me she was pregnant there would be nothing but tragedy ahead of us, and that’s what happened. Jock was livid. Forbade Shirle to have anything to do with the man. Ha. Too late. The horse was out of the barn by then.”

“Do you think this lover might be in some way implicated in what has happened?”

“I don’t see how. He’s gone overseas.”

“Shirley told me she didn’t even know his surname. He couldn’t tell her because he was on a highly secret mission.”

“That’s what he said.” Again Mrs. McHattie scowled. “Could have been a pile of horse manure what he was dropping us in. Fact is, he got her up the stump and left her in the lurch.”

“And your daughter has had no contact with this man since he left?”

“Couple of postcards with no return address. Nothing recently. I’m the one who sees the post first, so I make sure. She hasn’t received anything. Maybe he’s dead. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.”

53.

S
HIRLEY
McH
ATTIE WAS FEELING DECIDEDLY UNDER
the weather. Her back was aching something awful and her stomach felt queasy. The pain had begun when she was in the boat, but now it was getting worse.

Polly had been waiting for her at the riverbank. She was chipper as could be and gave her a big hug as she helped her get into the rowing boat.
Don’t worry. One of my many undisclosed talents, Shirle dear, is that I can row awfully well
. And so she could, although it had been hard going against the current. Soon they disembarked at a derelict dock and Polly led her to this church.
The perfect hiding place, and I’ve made it all cosy
. Shirley couldn’t help but get into the spirit of adventure and her heart was beginning to pound in anticipation of seeing Rudy. She’d caught hold of Polly’s hand.
Oh, Pol, I can hardly stand it. Do you think he will have changed? Do you think he’ll be put off because I’ve lost my figure?
Polly had pinched her cheek.
Silly goose, of course not. Things will be just the same, you’ll see. It’s his baby after all
.

But the sense of excitement was fading fast. Even Polly seemed subdued. She’d lit a couple of candles, but they didn’t give off much light and the church was dark all around them. Shirley hadn’t been in a Catholic church before and the shadowy statues and stained glass windows were vaguely disturbing. She knew how her own minister felt about papists, as he called them.

Worse, however, was the man who’d arrived shortly after them. Polly said he was a friend of Rudy’s, a soldier pal from
training school. He’d agreed to act as a go-between as an act of friendship. She couldn’t reveal his name, “for security reasons.” He didn’t say a word – no greeting, no acknowledgement of Shirley, nothing. He was wearing dark clothes and a balaclava that covered his face. He sat in one of the pews outside the circle of light. He was so silent and still, he was almost invisible, but Shirley could feel his presence behind her.

She yearned to engage him, hungry for news of her love.

“How is Rudy? Was the mission successful? Is he on leave now? He hasn’t been hurt, has he?”

The last question elicited a shake of the head. Exasperated, Shirley turned to Polly. “Cat got his tongue, has it?”

“Nothing like that,” Polly answered. “He’d be in trouble if it came out he was helping you and Rudy to get together. They’re having to break the rules for him to come.”

“Well, I can’t stay any longer. My mum will be frantic enough as it is.”

She got to her feet and the man jumped up, fast as a cat, grabbed her arm, and shoved her back into the pew.

“Oi! Stop that,” she said, but she was now truly frightened. “Polly, what’s going on? Where’s Rudy? Who is this bloke? I don’t like him.”

“Don’t worry,” said Polly. “He’s all right, just the nervous type. Rudy will be here soon. And don’t worry about your mum. I rang the hospital and told them to give her a message. Said you’d decided to take a few days’ holiday with a friend.”

Shirley looked at her in dismay. “Why did you say that? She knows I don’t have any friends in the area.”

“Except me, silly goose.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t know about you.”

“Stop being such a worrywart. Remember, I said you had to learn to stand on your own feet? Your mum will sing a different tune when you come home a married woman.”

Polly’s voice was bright, but Shirley didn’t feel reassured and she felt a sharp stab of guilt at her own actions. This was a terrible time to be adding to her mother’s worries. She also had a nagging feeling that Polly was fibbing. That she hadn’t left a message at the hospital. What game was she playing?

“What time is it? If Rudy isn’t here soon, I’m going to go back.”

Polly smiled. “Tell you what, I brought us some cocoa. It’ll warm you up until he comes. I’m sure he won’t be long now.”

She reached into a black doctor’s bag she had with her and took out a large Thermos, unscrewed the top, poured out a cup, and handed it to Shirley.

“You first.”

Shirley shook her head. “No, thanks. My tummy’s upset.”

“It’s got a splash of whisky in it,” said Polly. “It’ll settle you right down.”

“I don’t know if I should. The doctor said that whatever goes into my mouth will end up in the baby’s system.”

Polly chuckled. “No fear of that. One drink won’t do anything. It’s not like you’re a regular tippler. Here.”

She shoved the cup of cocoa at Shirley.

“All right then. Thanks. It is nippy in here.”

Shirley jerked her head in the direction of the silent man. “Aren’t you going to offer him some?”

“Nope. It’s only for us girls.”

Shirley took a sip and quickly lowered the cup. “I don’t mean to be rude, but this cocoa leaves a bit to be desired. Is the milk off, do you think?”

“Hope not,” said Polly. “Here.” She went into her bag again and took out a small tin. “I brought along extra sugar just in case. I like mine sweet.” She handed the tin to Shirley. “Help yourself. Here’s a spoon.”

“As long as I’m not taking all your ration, I don’t mind if I do.”

“I’ve got lots left. Don’t worry,” said Polly.

Shirley spooned two heaping spoonfuls of the sugar into the cup and stirred. She could tell the man was watching her. Well phooey to him. Nothing wrong with sugar for a pregnant woman. Truth was she got fed up with her ma watching her all the time.
Eat this, Shirle, don’t eat that, Shirle
.

The cocoa tasted much better now, so she drank it down. Polly took the empty cup from her and poured herself some cocoa. She blew on it. “Bit hot yet.”

Shirley yawned, engulfed by a sudden wave of tiredness. “You know what, I could do with a kip. It’s past my bedtime. I’ll just put my head down for a minute. Just a minute, mind. Wake me up as soon as Rudy comes.”

“Why don’t you stretch out,” said Polly. “Better to put your feet up.”

“Oo, I don’t want to be disrespectful. This is a church after all.”

The other woman flapped her hand. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Come on, I’ll help you.”

She lifted Shirley’s legs and swung them around so that she was lying on the pew.

“Ten minutes only …” Shirley’s voice tailed off.

Polly looked down at her for a moment or two. “Silly little bint. I thought she wasn’t going to drink it for a minute.”

The man pulled off the balaclava.

“Bloody thing is scratchy,” he said.

“I’ve got the feeling she’s going to pop soon,” said Polly. “She’d better. I can’t wait forever.”

Polly scowled. “What do we do now?”

He stood up. “I’m going back before I’m missed.”

“Hold on. What if she goes into labour?”

He gave her a half grin. “I’m sure you know what to do.”

“I can handle the birth, that’s not the problem. I just don’t fancy spending the night in this bloody place.”

“It’ll be worth it. I told you that, Polly. One night, that’s all. I’ll be back tomorrow and it will all be over.”

“Then what? What do we do then?”

54.

T
YLER HADN
’
T STAYED MUCH LONGER WITH
M
RS
. McH
ATTIE
. She had looked so exhausted, he didn’t have the heart to keep at her. Like an arrow scratched in the sand, faint as it was, he thought he at least had
something
to follow. Who and where was Rudy, the putative father of Shirley’s child? Clearly, the lover himself couldn’t be hiding out in the hospital. Was it somebody in cahoots with him?
Hey, pal, my gal’s pa is against us marrying. Off him for me, will you? Remove the obstacle. Sure. Happy to oblige. Oops, sorry. There were two potential witnesses I had to dispose of
.

Well, if Shirley had done a bunk to meet her lover, they’d soon find them. One of the very few good results of wartime, as far as the police were concerned, was that the people couldn’t really travel about the countryside undetected.

Sister Rebecca and Tyler returned to the sitting room.

“I’d like to suggest you stay here for the night, Inspector,” she said. “We have a spare room that we keep ready for our spiritual adviser, Reverend Jervis. It’s basic but adequate, and you would be right on the spot if … if anything happens.”

Tyler felt as if his eyes were filled with sand. A bed, however basic, sounded like heaven to him.

“I accept, Sister. With thanks.”

She smiled. “We even have a pair of pyjamas you can use.”

She led the way down the passageway to a room at the far end, next to the sanctuary.

She switched on the light. A narrow bed, a chair, a washstand. Very monklike. But a bedroom nonetheless.

“We say matins at five o’clock. Would you like me to call you?”

Tyler rubbed at his jaw. “Does everybody get up at that hour?”

“Just our community initially, but now some of the patients like to join us.”

“I think I’ll join. And of course, if Shirley does reappear, fetch me immediately. Pregnant or not pregnant, I will personally give her a chewing out for worrying the heck out of everybody.”

Sister Rebecca grimaced. “I’ll be next in the queue.” She indicated the dresser. “The pyjamas are in there. Reverend Jervis is rather a stout man, so they may be a bit big for you.”

“That’s quite all right. Thank you.” He stopped. “Darn, Sister. My brain’s turning to blancmange. I should let my sergeant know I won’t be back tonight.”

“I’ll ring him if you’d like.”

“Thanks, much appreciated.”

For a moment, Tyler thought the almoner was lingering, but she turned away.

“I’ll say good night then.”

“Good night, Sister.”

Tyler took out the pyjamas, blue hospital issue, and definitely on the large side. He got undressed, switched off the light, and climbed into the bed, which was as it had looked, hard and uncomfortable.

How long was it since he had lain with a woman in his arms? It was almost two years ago that he’d last been with Clare, and the thought of her was an ache. They’d had such a brief time together, and the joy he’d experienced at their reunion was so tempered by the sorrow of his son’s death he could hardly separate the two. He rolled onto his back trying to bring back the memory of his time with Clare, but he was too tired. All he could remember was her softness; the feeling of the love that had encompassed him, comforting him in his
anguish. If he were a praying man, he’d offer up a prayer.
Dear God, send her back to me soon
.

Finally he fell into a restless sleep, tormented by unhappy dreams. He was only too happy to be awakened by Sister Virginia, who was standing at his bedside holding a tea tray.

55.

“S
ISTER
R
EBECCA SAID YOU WANTED TO BE AWAKENED
at five, sir.”

Tyler pushed himself up in the bed. As well as a china cup and saucer, there was a brass candleholder with a lit candle on the tray that the nun placed on the bedside table.

“Shall I draw the curtains, sir? It is looking like a pleasant morning.”

“Please do. Has there been any word of Shirley McHattie?” Tyler asked.

“Nothing, I’m afraid, sir.”

She returned to the bedside.

“I’ll extinguish the candle if you don’t mind, sir.”

“Of course.”

The soft light of early dawn was bathing the room. The sweet fresh air coming through the open window was momentarily tainted by the acrid odour of the snuffed candle.

“Do you take milk and sugar, sir?”

He could see she was managing to focus her gaze somewhere in the space over his head.

“Yes, please,” answered Tyler, feeling rather lordlike at being waited on in bed. Nobody had done that for him since Vera, in the early days of his marriage. Very early days.

“Will you be joining us at matins, sir?”

“Er … Maybe not this morning. Perhaps some other time.” Tyler took a sip of tea. “Perfect. Thank you, Sister.”

There was a burst of singing from the sanctuary. Something hymnal, male voices mixed in with the sopranos.

“Will you be taking breakfast in the dining room, sir, or would you like to have it in here?” Sister Virginia asked. “We start serving at half past six.”

“As long as my presence doesn’t put people off their food, I’ll eat with everybody else, in the dining room.”

The nun smiled shyly. “Naturally we are dreadfully upset about what’s happened, but I have every faith you’ll get to the bottom of things soon.”

Tyler wasn’t sure he was as confident.

“The bathroom is next door,” she said, her eyes again averted. “I’ve placed a fresh towel on the rack, and the toothbrush is for your use. I should warn you – the water tends to be a bit scanty and tepid. I can bring you a jug of hot water if you’d like.”

“I’ll be fine. No special treatment please.”

“I’ll leave you then. I should join in matins.” She gave a little curtsy and, quiet as a mouse, slipped away. Tyler would swear Sister Virginia had been in service prior to joining the community.

He drank the tea, put the dainty cup and saucer back on the tray, and swung his legs out of bed. He pulled off the reverend’s ample pyjamas, folded them neatly, and placed them on the chair. His own shirt could have done with an iron, but there was no opportunity to do that now, so it would have to do. He got dressed quickly and went in search of the
WC
. The singing got louder as he went past the sanctuary. Even to his ears, the music was unusually harmonious and professional sounding. He might have been tempted to join them if he hadn’t felt so dragged out by his night.