Tragedy at Two (34 page)

“The camp. I have to tell Athalia. She and Alf were very close, and he’ll want her there.”

“But his wife . . . ?”

“She can’t be up here for quite a while. Athalia can be there in half an hour.”

“But they’ll never let an old gypsy woman into the intensive care ward,” objected Josie, wondering if her mother had flipped. It wouldn’t be surprising. It had been a terrible shock.

“You don’t know Athalia,” Lois said, and they walked on in silence. Finally Josie said, “Mum. If you’re right, why don’t I go back and get the van and bring it up to the camp. If Athalia, or whatever her name is, will have a go, then I could take us straight over to the hospital. It’d be quicker.”

“Well done, love,” Lois said. “We’ll wait by the entrance.”

 

 

IT WAS AS JOSIE HAD GUESSED. LOIS STRODE IN WITH ATHALIA and, remembering the way, headed straight for Alf’s room. “Absolutely not!” the nurse said, barring the way at the door.

“We are expecting Mr. Smith’s wife, and he must be kept absolutely quiet until she arrives. How did you get up here? It is strictly out of bounds!” She looked suspiciously at Lois. “Weren’t you with him when he came in?” she said.

Lois said that she was, that she was a close friend of Mr. Smith and knew that this lady—she put her arm around Athalia’s shoulders—was the one person in the world he would want to see more than anyone. The nurse hesitated, and Athalia saw her chance. She slid quietly round the nurse and was by Alf’s side in seconds.

Before the nurse could do anything, Alf opened his eyes and said, “Athalia. You knew, didn’t you. Stay with me, gel.” He reached out a wavering hand and took her thin brown one, then closed his eyes again, and Lois saw the ghost of a smile on his face.

THE NURSE BROUGHT A CHAIR FOR ATHALIA, AND RETIRED TO the corner of the room, a thunderous expression on her face. She had cautioned Athalia fiercely that she must be absolutely quiet. The smallest sign of distress from Alf, and she would be out on her ear. Athalia had given her a strange look, but whispered that she understood.

Half an hour passed, and to Lois and Josie waiting downstairs it seemed longer. “Looks like she’s being allowed to stay. What the hell is Edwina going to say?” Josie asked.

“It’ll take her at least three hours to get here, and that’ll be long enough. I’m sure of that.”

“Long enough for what?”

“For Alf to settle his mind,” Lois replied. “He’s been a troubled man for a while now.” She had had plenty of time herself now to order her thoughts, and was pretty sure they were close to answering questions that had been haunting them all. If only Alf can make it. She crossed fin gers on both hands.

As far as Athalia could see, things were going well with Alf. His breathing was good, and she could feel the pulse in his wrist was regular. He was holding her hand quite firmly still, and suddenly she felt him squeeze it. His eyelids flickered, and then opened and he looked straight at her. The nurse was there in an instant.

“I’m fine,” he whispered, as she fussed about him. “I need to talk . . . to this lady. Not much, not for long. Promise . . . very important,” he added.

The nurse was in a quandary. Signs were iffy, and his condition could change any minute. She looked at the gypsy woman, who sat so calmly, like a refuge beside the bed. Alf was still holding on to her hand, and the nurse finally decided that he would probably be more upset if she refused his request.

“No more than a sentence or two, then,” she said, and retired to her corner.

For a moment neither Athalia nor Alf said a word. There was an almost visible bond between them, the nurse thought, and shivered. Gypsies gave her the creeps, and she prayed that the doctor would not suddenly appear.

“Tell me, then, boy.” Athalia’s voice was barely audible, and she bent close to Alf ’s head so that he would not have to exert himself.

“It’s what you saw,” he whispered. “Not me heart. Not that. I’ve known about that for some time.”

“No, not that. This morning, Alf, it was in your hand. I saw the lad. Rob, that one. Tell me, dearie.” Athalia stroked his hand, which was still holding on to hers.

“He was on the road. Thumbed a lift . . . I took him to the Green Man. He drank to drown his sorrows . . . so he said. Too much, Athalia. He had too much.”

“Quiet now. Rest a bit,” she said, and began to hum under her breath. After a minute or two, she whispered, “And what happened then?”

“Got him in the car to go home. He started on about Edwina. . . .” A tear ran down his cheek, and Athalia brushed it away with a soothing hand.

“No hurry,” she said. “We got all the time in the world.”

After a few seconds, Alf seemed to gather all his strength and said, “He was yelling at me. Laughing. Said Edwina was gettin’ it regular . . . with Sam Stratford. He tried to take the wheel . . . I stopped the car. But he wouldn’t stop . . . yelling an’ laughing.”

The nurse got up and came over. “That’s quite enough now,” she said. “I think you must go now and let him rest, Mrs. er . . .”

Athalia ignored her. “Go on, boy,” she said. “Nearly there.”

“Got him out of the car. Lost me temper . . . he fought like a tiger . . . drunk . . . kicked him in the ditch. Left him there to cool off . . . didn’t realise . . .” All his energy, summoned with such difficulty, was spent.

“That’s it, then, boy,” Athalia said. “All done.” She stroked his hand again, and, leaning forward, kissed him gently on the forehead. The hand holding hers slackened. “ ’Bye, Alf,” she said.

As the nurse rushed forward, Athalia stood up and with quiet dignity walked away.

 

 

EDWINA FINALLY ARRIVED AND ALTHOUGH DRAINED WITH tiredness and anxiety, almost ran into the hospital, where a nurse was waiting for her.

“Where is he?”

The nurse took her arm. “We’ll go and see him,” she said gently. “But first, just a private word. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Smith. We did all we could.”

LOIS AND JOSIE SAT WITH ATHALIA IN HER TRAILER, SILENTLY watching while she made a large pot of tea in her best Crown Derby teapot.

“He won’t be long,” Athalia had said when they arrived back from the hospital. She had insisted they come in with her, and then excused herself for a few minutes, “To put the word out, and wait for George to come.”

Lois had dutifully switched her mobile off in the hospital, and now she remembered. Almost as soon as she switched it on, it rang, and she answered it.

“Lois? Where the hell have you been?” Not Derek, she realised quickly, but Cowgill, and clearly very annoyed or worried about something. . . .

“I can’t talk now,” she said firmly. “I’ll call you back later.”

“You’re all right? And Josie?”

“Of course we are! Have to go now. ’Bye.”

“Lois! Hang on a moment. I’m on my way. Ring my mobile number. Have you got it?”

“Yes. ’Bye.”

Athalia looked at her closely, but said nothing. Then George appeared, and came in, shutting the trailer door behind him.

“Poor old Alf,” he said, sitting down and accepting a cup of tea from Athalia.

Josie was beginning to feel nervous. It was cramped and stuffy in the trailer, and she tried to catch Lois’s eye. But her mother was looking straight at Athalia, and after a moment said, “Now then, is it time to tell us?”

Athalia nodded. “He would have wanted it,” she said. “That’s what he wanted, to have it all sorted out.”

The others sat quietly, and Athalia began. She spoke slowly, thinking back carefully to what Alf had told her, making sure she got it right. When she had fin ished, George saw that Josie and Lois were stunned, and he repeated softly, “Poor old Alf. It weren’t really his fault, was it?”

Josie snapped. She stood up and her face was red and hot with anger. “Of course it was his sodding fault!” she said. “Even if Rob was drunk and stupid, Alf had no cause to beat him to death! Come on, Mum!” she added. “Let’s go home and leave this lot to think what they like. I’ve had enough!” she shouted, and was in tears again.

Lois put her arm around her, and gently sat her down. “We will go home, duckie,” she said, “and now we know what happened it will be easier. But just sit quietly for a minute, and make sure there’s nothing else you want to say.”

Athalia had turned away, and when she turned back Lois could see that she, too, had tears streaking down her lined face. But she brushed them away and silently took Josie’s hand. To Lois’s surprise, Josie left it there, and all were still. Then George spoke again, this time directly to Josie.

“Your Rob,” he said. “He was a good bloke, mostly. But like the rest of us, he weren’t perfect. I heard things in the pub. If you don’t know nothing about his other side, you sit there until you’re ready to go. There’s no need for you to say more. Take it easy, gel.”

Josie sniffed, and looked at Lois. “There is something, Mum,” she said finally. “I never told you and Dad. Rob didn’t want you told. He’d been in trouble before I met him. Nothing serious, and I don’t think it got as far as the cops, but he’d lost his temper in a pub in Tresham and went for a woman who was making fun of him. She was a tart, he said, and I didn’t want to know any more. Anyway, it was all hushed up, but she was quite badly hurt.”

“Josie! Did he ever hurt you?”

Josie shook her head. “Not really,” she said.

“What d’you mean, ‘not really’?” Lois’s voice was sharp.

“Well, he grabbed my wrist once and twisted it. But I calmed him down.”

“You said you’d tripped and fell on it!” Lois said. “Oh dear God,” she muttered, and put her head in her hands.

George said, “Don’t fret. It’ll all be sorted out. I expect the cops are on the way?”

Lois didn’t reply, but saw Athalia nod and realised she had guessed where Lois’s call had come from. There was nothing more to be said, and after thanking Athalia for the tea, Lois and Josie walked back to the van. George stood in the background and raised his hand as they drove off. Athalia did not wave.

“Sorry, Mum,” Josie said suddenly, when they were nearly back at the hotel. “Sorry for everything.”

 

 

COWGILL ARRIVED LATER, AND FOUND THEM IN THE HOTEL. HE looked at their faces, and felt guilty at having to grill them right away for what they knew. The police investigation had moved on a good way, of course, but he did not know exactly what Alf’s final involvement had been. Before he talked to anybody else, he needed to find out what Lois had discovered.

He soon realised that both she and Josie were totally exhausted. He sighed, with Derek’s voice still ringing in his ears. Lois’s husband had called him before he left, giving him a blast about making use of his wife and daughter. Apparently news of Alf ’s collapse had gone around Farnden village network at record speed. Edwina had seen to that, ringing Stratfords to say she had to leave.

“So where shall I begin?” Lois said wearily.

“Can’t it wait?” Josie asked Cowgill, but he shook his head.

“Sorry, no,” he said. “There is some urgency about this now.”

“You’d better ask us questions, then,” Lois said. “No point in my going over what you already know.”

“First of all,” Cowgill said, taking charge, “I’ll tell you what I know about Alf. He had been a friend of the gypsies for years. Allowed them to camp on his land, and this was not popular with the village. His wife, Edwina, was on the side of the village, and was a longtime friend—possibly more?—of Sam Stratford.”

“Sam hated the gypsies. It was him who encouraged a gang of kids to harass them,” Lois said, knowing now that she had no hope of protecting Sheila. “And also, he was probably knocking off Edwina on the side.”

“Well put, Mum,” Josie said, seeing the note taker smile.

“So what made Alf come to the fair, leaving Sam Stratford a clear fie ld?”