A Cotswold Ordeal (20 page)

‘Oh, bother Phil and his investigation,’ Jocelyn snapped. ‘Can’t you think about anything else?’

‘Yes, I can think about all kinds of things, if I try. And all kinds of people. I haven’t forgotten I’ve got a life away from all this.’

‘Well then,’ said Jocelyn. ‘When does Jess get back from wherever-it-is? And when does her police training start? And have you seen James and Rosie lately? How’s her back? And what’re you getting Dad for his birthday? He’ll be seventy-five, you know.’

‘Stop!’ Thea ordered, laughing in spite of herself. ‘Is this your way of saying I should get a proper job? That I live too much through other people?’

‘Not a bit.’ Jocelyn seemed genuinely surprised. ‘I never looked at it like that.’ She considered. ‘But it’s a thought, isn’t it? I’m just as bad, with my feeble little efforts to earn some pocket money. We don’t
contribute
very much, do we?’

‘We keep the wheels running smoothly. Or you do. I don’t think I really want to analyse my own place in the world, just at the moment.’

‘So what’re we going to do then? I can’t help feeling I need to leave here on some sort of high.’

Thea looked at her watch. ‘It’s nearly eleven. We could go for that walk in the woods I’ve been nagging you about. This is your final chance. We could have a quick drink at Daneway and back here for lunch – or the pub in Frampton Mansell, for a change.’

‘You’re not going to let me off that walk, are you?’

‘I’m not going to
force
you, but it’s nice, I promise you. It’ll clear your head before you go home.’

‘All right,’ Jocelyn grudgingly agreed. ‘But we are not to talk about the murder, my marriage, children or… or…well, that’s about it. I might even let you tell me about the canal, if it keeps us off those other subjects.’

‘Don’t tempt me.’ Thea stuffed some money into the pocket of her trousers, and they set out just as they were, Thea in trainers and Jocelyn in flimsy sandals. ‘We don’t need a map,’ Thea breezed. ‘I can remember the way.’

They were quickly in Frampton Mansell, where Jocelyn paused outside the church with its oddly empty graveyard and decorative tower. ‘Do you
want to go in there first?’ Thea asked. Before Jocelyn could reply, Hepzibah had dived under the gate and was zigzagging over the bowling-green-quality grass, ignoring Thea’s calls.

‘Looks as if the decision’s been made for us,’ laughed Jocelyn. ‘I don’t mind a quick look.’

Leaving the spaniel to pursue her explorations, the sisters let themselves into the building. Thea found herself thinking about the way almost everybody still felt impelled to explore the church in any new place they were visiting, regardless of their religious proclivities.

‘Errghh,’ Jocelyn shuddered. ‘It’s horrible.’

‘Plain,’ Thea corrected. ‘Not horrible.’

‘I always forget how much I dislike churches until I’m inside one. I must be a real pagan at heart. Look at it!’

Thea drifted towards the table containing the ubiquitous information leaflets, finding a printed history. Skimming it, she extracted two or three basic facts. ‘The church was threatened with closure in 1979 and the locals rallied round to save it,’ she summarised.

‘They needn’t have bothered, if you ask me,’ said Jocelyn.

Outside again, they called for Hepzie, who came into sight still sniffing interestedly at a cluster of headstones in an otherwise sparsely inhabited graveyard. Thea went towards her, pausing
automatically to read a few inscriptions on the stones.

‘Oh look at this one,’ she called to Jocelyn, who was returning to the gate.

‘Must I?’

‘Not if you don’t want to. It’s a boy, Samuel Davy Willis.
Died in a tragic accident on the Thames and
Severn Canal, 27th July 1933
. I wonder what happened?’

‘How old was he?’

‘Born 1919.’

‘Fourteen. Doing something foolhardy, I expect.’

‘As boys do. Sad, all the same. He must have been conceived right after the First World War. Somebody’s pride and joy.’

‘Oh, you. It’s just one out of thousands. What’s special about this one?’

‘Nothing.’ Thea left her contemplation of the gravestone. ‘But it’s something real, just the same. A little bit of human misery. I think it’s the dates. Born just after the war, and died in the year they finally abandoned the canal altogether. It seems ironic somehow.’

Jocelyn seemed to shake herself. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I’m being a cow. It must have been terrible for the poor people. Fourteen – he’d have been leaving school and getting a job, probably. One of the upcoming generation. Mind you,’ she added, ‘he would have been twenty when World War Two
broke out. What would his chances of survival have been, anyway?’

‘Not everybody went to fight. He could have been a grand old man in his eighties now with a host of grandchildren.’

‘Stop it. I hate might-have-beens. They breed discontent.’

‘Do they? You sound as if you’ve got some.’

‘Not now. What did I tell you? That’s one of the no go areas.’

‘Sorry.’ They left the church and continued along the small road, with Hepzie cheerfully running ahead of them. There seemed little risk of any traffic.

‘Oh, there’s a pony, look,’ said Thea, pointing into a paddock. ‘I wonder if it ever gets to meet Pallo.’

‘Bound to, at the local gymkhana.’

‘Tell you what,’ said Thea. ‘There’s a better way, down past the pub. Come on.’

The railway line safely crossed, they traversed the southern edge of a field, which sloped downhill, to the valley of the River Frome, with dense woodland on the rising slope beyond. ‘Gosh!’ breathed Jocelyn. ‘Isn’t that glorious!’

‘There are views like that everywhere you go, all over the Cotswolds,’ Thea told her. ‘Visually, it’s an absolute paradise.’

Conversation proceeded at the same safe level, pointing out objects to each other, admiring the
landscape until they were well into the woods. Dutifully they read the Wildlife Trust notices that appeared here and there, with pictures of otters and birds and flowers. ‘Hey, see this!’ Thea said, in outrage. ‘
After 200 years the canal closed,
benefiting wildlife and enhancing the wetland
habitat
. What a nerve! How dare they?’

‘Why? What’s wrong with that?’

‘Canals are
wonderful
for wildlife. More banks and shallows for things like water rats and kingfishers and herons. More flower species. These idiots don’t know what they’re talking about.’

‘I expect they do,’ Jocelyn disagreed mildly. ‘You’re just biased.’

‘I wonder what the canal restoration people make of it. This stretch is due for their attentions soon. There are some amazing locks just along that way.’

‘Can we go along here instead?’ Jocelyn asked, pointing to her left. ‘If I’m remembering the map properly, it comes out at Daneway House.’

‘No problem,’ said Thea. ‘Provided we can come back past the locks. Hepzie agrees with you, anyhow.’

They strolled through the woods, with the dog running ahead of them, checking regularly to see that Thea was still in sight. Fifteen minutes or so brought them to a small road, opposite the gates into Daneway House.

The house itself was not visible from the road, and they both felt too self-conscious to march up its driveway for a look. But they did take a footpath that curved around the back, from where they could see the medieval rooftops and chimneys, and the flamboyant gold-painted weathervane, in the shape of some odd mythical winged beast. Jocelyn professed herself satisfied at seeing it again.

‘We’ll have to have a quick drink at the Inn,’ said Thea.

In the bar, the first person they saw was Jeremy Innes. At the sight of them, his eyes widened and he glanced round as if searching for somewhere to hide.

‘Morning,’ Thea said to him, her mind full of the decomposing cat. ‘Listen, Jeremy – what did you do with Milo?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, avoiding her eye. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘Well, where is he now? Don’t you think Julia will want him back?’

‘My dad took him, if you must know. Said he’d dispose of him, and I was an idiot to talk about post-mortems. He said nobody deliberately killed him, and I should forget the whole thing.’

‘Your dad,’ Thea repeated. ‘I still haven’t met him.’

The
So what?
was almost uttered in the look he gave her.

‘And what did he say he was going to do with him?’ Jocelyn butted in.

‘What’s it to you?’ Jeremy was trying to back away from them, aware of his mates listening to his humiliation at the hands of the two women.

‘I’ll tell you,’ said Thea, impatiently. ‘Last night we found the cat’s body in the pony’s stable, in a vile state. Somebody obviously brought it back to Juniper Court and dumped it, deliberately to upset us. There’s a campaign to make us leave, in case you hadn’t noticed. So don’t give us that rubbish about your father, because it’s obviously not true.’

One of the other youths sniggered. Jeremy flashed him a look, part pleading, part warning. ‘Nobody cares whether or not you leave now,’ he said. ‘It’s all too late now, anyway.’

‘So what was all that macho stuff yesterday morning?’ Jocelyn flared up. ‘Your brother really overstepped the mark, didn’t he?’

‘And now he’s been nicked, so you don’t have to worry, do you?’ Again there was as much pleading as anger in his tone.

‘But
why
?’ Thea insisted. ‘What was the point?’

Jeremy heaved a deep sigh. ‘Dom was angry about Nick, that’s all.’

‘Of course that wasn’t all,’ Thea snapped. ‘He told us to get out of the house for our own good. Why was that? Is your gang going to burn the place down, or something?’

Jeremy forced an unconvincing laugh. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ he said.

Thea gave up. ‘Well, I don’t understand any of it,’ she admitted. ‘But you ought to have known better than to drag a girl of fourteen into your activities.’

Jeremy’s long-lashed eyes narrowed. ‘We tried our best to watch out for her,’ he said in a low voice. ‘We didn’t know—’

One of the other youths made a warning sound, part hiss, part cough, and Jeremy stopped.

Thea picked up the atmosphere immediately. ‘So who is Flora’s boyfriend?’ she demanded. ‘She said she wanted to phone someone she called a boyfriend.’

Jeremy shook his head. ‘She hasn’t got one. She talks big, that’s all. Mostly she’s just been a nuisance.’

‘What, because her family are going to have to come back, and rescue her from the social services?’

He gave her a withering look. ‘She’s not with the social services. They took her to her mother, who won’t be best pleased, according to my mum. Neither will Julia.’

‘And what about her father? Can’t he come back and take charge of her? It doesn’t sound as if they’re having much of a holiday anyway, all split up and him off fishing.’

Jeremy swallowed, and Thea thought he looked too young to be in a pub. She took pity on him.
‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘We’ll just have a drink and leave you alone. Sorry to have been so pushy.’ The boy looked at her with a relief that was almost gratitude.

They drank their beer quickly, both feeling they were simply passing the time until Jocelyn took her leave of Thea and Juniper Court, and Hollis pulled the rabbit out of his pocket, and made everything right with the world again. The air was humid and still. Male laughter wafted down the garden from the open pub door.

‘That gravel car park used to be a big canal basin,’ said Thea. ‘Did I tell you that?’

‘I expect so. Please don’t say you want to go back for another look at that tunnel.’

Thea shook her head. ‘No, I’m more interested in the flight of locks. I think they’re absolutely magical.’

‘You would. Come on, then. I think those black clouds are coming this way after all.’

They took a footpath that began right beside the Daneway Bridge. Within two minutes, heavy raindrops began to fall, splashing noisily on the treetops overhead.

‘We’ll probably be reasonably sheltered here in the woods,’ said Thea, with blithe optimism. ‘We might as well keep walking.’

‘Or we could go back to the pub and wait until it stops.’

‘I don’t think I can face that boy again. No, come on. It won’t be much.’

Another two minutes, however, saw the storm dramatically increased, with the trees a less than perfect protection. ‘Hey! This is quite exciting!’ laughed Jocelyn. ‘I haven’t been out in a good storm for ages.’

They dodged along, trying to stay under the broadest, thickest trees, and succeeding to some extent in avoiding a total soaking.

‘I’m not sure we’re going to think it’s fun if it lasts much longer,’ Thea said. ‘Look!’ She pointed to the sloping woodland to their right, where rivulets of water were already forming, and running down towards their path. ‘We’ll have very wet feet at this rate.’

A thunderous roll from the sky overhead seemed to endorse her trepidation. Jocelyn squealed, partly from fear, but mostly from a surge of exhilaration. The noise of torrential rain on the tree canopy was growing louder by the minute, until they had to shout to be heard. Hepzie was having second thoughts as to the pleasure quotient in quite so much of a deluge. Her ears hung limply and her feathering disappeared, making her seem half her former size.

‘Watch where you’re going,’ Thea warned. ‘It’s slippery.’

The world had changed completely since their
walk in the other direction less than an hour before. A greenish light filled the woods like a toxic cloud. Even if they had been able to see far ahead, the relentless rain forced them to duck their heads and hunch their shoulders. Neither had jackets. Thea wore a T-shirt and light cotton trousers. Jocelyn had an open-necked short-sleeved shirt and knee-length jeans. Thea had trainers, which gripped the slippery path reasonably well, but Jocelyn’s sandals were smooth-soled and useless. Twice her foot skidded from under her, in the sudden mud.

‘How much further is it?’ Jocelyn asked, after a few minutes of blundering along.

‘I don’t really know where we are. It all looks different. If it doesn’t stop soon, we’d better find a good place to shelter.’

And then everything happened in a bewildering rush. The path seemed to narrow. A minor torrent of water was gushing downhill and across the path. Too late, Thea observed the abrupt drop into one of the canal locks, on their left. As Jocelyn tried to stride over the rivulet ahead of her, her foot slid sideways, her arms flailed, and she disappeared over the edge of the lock that neither of them had noticed was there.