Murder My Neighbour (22 page)

She drifted away into sleep.

She woke. It was dark. Someone was murmuring words in her ear. Soothing. She'd been wound up tight as a drum. She couldn't make out the words, but the tone was . . . gentle, hopeful. Tears slipped down her cheeks and were wiped away. Her breathing slowed. She relaxed and slept again.

How many times did that happen before she half woke to the realization that the dark-haired woman had meant to kill her, perhaps only for a couple of seconds . . . but in that couple of seconds she had intended to throw the radio into the bath and electrocute her.

The radio was plunging down towards her . . .

She started upright. She was in bed. She prised her eyes open. Someone had drawn the curtains, muting the power of the sun outside. Or was it dusk already?

A little brown woman sat in the chair by the window, smiling a nutcracker grin. Was that . . . could it be . . . Miss Drusilla Quicke, Ellie's much-loved aunt? ‘Good girl. Coming out of it? I'm so glad you found Mrs Pryce. You'll sort out what . . .'

Who was Mrs Pryce?

She slid down in bed and closed her eyes again. She dreamed she was walking in a garden full of roses in the dusk. The fragrance of the roses was all around her. The dripping tap was the only sound she could hear, except for the birds . . . mostly sparrows, twittering to their nests as the dusk deepened to night. She stood by the pond, watching the reflection of a cloud as it passed overhead, and then she was in the water, looking up at a dark-haired woman's furious face and seeing the radio hurtle down towards her.

She sat upright, breathing hard. Tears formed and slid down her cheeks. She lifted her hands . . . oh, the effort that took . . . and wiped them away.

She knew who she was. Ellie, that was her name. She knew where she was. At home in bed.

A little brown woman was sitting in the chair by the window. No, it wasn't Miss Quicke. Ellie recognized her dear friend Rose, snoring gently. The curtains had been drawn against the light outside. Ah, so Rose had managed to climb the stairs again? That was good.

Ellie eased herself out from under the duvet. Naked. Ah, well. She did sometimes sleep naked, because . . . She smiled, remembering Thomas chasing her round the bed pretending to be a bear . . . Yes, well. Her smile morphed into a grin. Thomas was just great in that department, as in all others. Thomas had saved her life and prayed over her. But Diana . . . ! No, she would not think about Diana now.

She turned her head with difficulty. Yes, Thomas had slept in bed with her last night. In fact, she seemed to recall waking at some point from a nightmare and him comforting her. Praying for her? She supposed she ought to be thanking God for giving her back her life, but she wasn't sure she could. Not yet, anyway.

She turned her thoughts away from prayer. She'd been anxious about Thomas for some reason. Why? The reason eluded her.

With an effort she swung her legs out of bed and reached for her dressing gown, which someone had thoughtfully put on the chair nearby . . . just too far to reach. The room went round and round. And steadied.

There was a carafe of water and a glass on the bedside table. Good. She was thirsty. She drank some water. She had a slight headache. She touched the back of her head gently. Yes, it was sore. Oh, Diana!

She shuddered. She pushed the horrible memory to the back of her mind. Don't think about that now. What time was it? Eight? In the evening? Or was it the next morning? What day would that be? Thursday or Friday?

In her chair by the window Rose woke up with a start. ‘Gracious me, don't tell me I dozed off. He made me promise to call him the moment you woke up, and here's me wasting time—'

Ellie managed to speak though her voice was hoarse. ‘I'm quite all right, Rose. Honest.' Well, not really all right. But improving. ‘You made it up the stairs, then.'

‘Of course I did, and without anyone helping me, either.' Rose eased Ellie into her dressing gown. ‘I'll call him in a minute, as I expect you'll be wanting the bathroom before you do anything else.'

Which was true. Her big bath sheet lay in a heap on the bathroom floor, sodden. Some people never understood that towels do not dry themselves if left in a heap on the floor. Thomas, though a wonderful man in many ways, had never grasped this principle.

A wrecked radio had been shoved under the stool. So it had all been true? She'd hoped that it had been a bad dream.

Rose had drawn the curtains back by the time Ellie returned. ‘Another lovely day. A really blue sky. I've told Thomas you're awake and looking tickety-boo, and he'll be up shortly. You'll be wanting some breakfast I've no doubt, and if you'll tell me what you fancy, I'll get straight on to it for you. You look a bit shaky. Let's get you back to bed.'

‘Do I have to?' She sounded like a whiny child.

‘It's my turn to scold you for not looking after yourself properly. For days now Miss Quicke has been saying to me that I've been falling down on the job. “You've let yourself fall into the doldrums, Rose,” she says. “You're no good to man or beast at the moment, and this has Got to Stop!”'

‘Oh. Has it?' Ellie was still finding the slightest movement a drag. ‘Do you know, I think I might be better going back to bed for a bit.' She couldn't think when she'd last pampered herself like this.

Rose helped Ellie replace her dressing gown with a pretty cotton nightdress and plumped up her pillows before helping Ellie back to bed. ‘There, now. Don't you worry about a thing because I'm back in charge again. You've all been very good to me these last few months when I was feeling so down, and that dear child Mia, although meaning to be helpful, has turned me almost into an invalid, which as you know is not really my cup of tea at all. Not to say she didn't mean well, because she did, but what I say is that she ought to be going out and about now and picking up her life where she left it off, and if she won't take it from me that that's what she ought to do, then you'll have to put your foot down with a firm hand, Ellie, and see that she does it.

‘Now, I should think you could manage a boiled egg with soldiers, and perhaps a pot of Earl Grey tea rather than coffee, which I shall have coming up in next to no time, right?'

Rose whisked herself out of the room, and Ellie closed her eyes, thinking that she really needed to take some aspirin, but couldn't summon up enough energy to get out of bed to fetch it . . .

Someone was stroking her hand, kissing her cheek.

She opened her eyes, and there was her dear husband Thomas with her breakfast. Her headache was almost gone.

He was smiling. ‘You're better.'

She smiled back. ‘I found Mrs Pryce, I sicked up my lovely lunch, and then I hit my head on the edge of the bath. Concussion.'

In the same moment he said, ‘Shock.'

Yes, it had been a terrible shock, and she hadn't got over it yet. Diana . . .

‘I rang the doctor, explained. He said to watch you like a hawk, wake you every few hours, let him know if you had any visual disturbance. But you haven't. You look so much better, but you're staying in bed today.' It wasn't quite a question.

‘Yes. I love you, Thomas.'

He blinked hard and turned his head away. ‘I was worried. Ellie, you really are the light of my life and . . .' His voice faded out, and he swallowed, hard.

With an effort she reached for the box of tissues and handed it to him.

He tried to laugh. Almost made it. ‘Now I know you're better, thinking of others before yourself.'

She pushed herself further up on the pillows and reached for the tray. ‘And you? I seem to remember wanting to ask you something but . . . oh, I've remembered what it was now. Did you sort the bishop out?' The ‘soldiers' of toast and butter were crisp, the egg perfect.

Thomas poured tea for her. ‘I shouldn't have left you. A couple of minutes more and—'

‘Don't let's think about that. What about the bishop, Thomas?'

‘The bishop is in full flight. Or, at least, he's no longer on my tail.'

‘How did you manage that?' Around another mouthful.

‘He called in some favours; so did I. My favours were bigger than his favours.'

‘Tut,' said Ellie, mock serious. ‘Two boys battling with conkers.'

‘Me, conker champion!' Thomas flexed his biceps.

She did her best to laugh, pushed the empty plates away from her and accepted the mug of tea. And sobered up. ‘Diana?'

He was wary. ‘I caught her just as she lifted the radio above her head.'

Ellie winced. Surely it would be best to pretend it never happened?

Thomas said, ‘She was beside herself.'

‘My fault. I shouldn't have taken the radio into the bathroom.'

‘I, er, threatened her with the police.'

Ellie stifled a qualm. Nodded. ‘You did right.' It had never occurred to Ellie before that she should be frightened of her daughter, but now she was. Oh Diana, where did I go wrong that you could even think of doing such a thing?

‘I didn't call them, because she wept and begged and . . . I suggested she go on an anger management course.'

‘Thomas, you are brilliant!' She had tears in her eyes, didn't know what to do with her mug of tea, needed paper tissues. He took the mug off her and handed her the tissues. Suddenly, she was tired. And wanted to cry again. She slid down in bed. ‘You'll keep everyone away?'

‘Of course. It's about time you had a rest, give everyone a chance to realize how much you do for them. The cleaners are here, or rather Vera's here but she's got another girl with her and neither Vera nor Rose is happy about that – but that's not something you need to worry about, and they'll not come in this room, I promise.'

‘I'd like to see Vera. She must have heard about our finding the body by now, and she was fond of Mrs Pryce. Besides, she could clean and dust in here and in the bathroom . . .' Don't think about the bathroom. ‘No hoovering. Just a quick dust. And maybe change the sheets on the bed?'

‘Are you sure?'

‘I'm sure.'

‘All right. Then I'm going downstairs to Google up a holiday for us. Where would you like to go? I thought we might take off somewhere for a fortnight or so. Do you fancy the Great Wall of China, or the spectacular scenery of New Zealand? Or perhaps Disneyland?'

‘Anything but Disneyland.' She closed her eyes. He drew the curtains and took the empty tray away.

Vera tiptoed into the room. Ellie had been dozing, but she made herself sit upright and held out her hand in welcome to the girl.

Vera dropped her cleaning things and began to cry. ‘I'm so silly, don't take any notice of me, but Fritz came round to tell me last night and I haven't been able to stop crying since. You know how fond I was of her . . . and now you're poorly and Thomas said I wasn't to tire you out and look at me!'

‘I know.' Ellie motioned the girl into the chair beside her bed. ‘It's all right.' Ellie pushed the paper tissues towards Vera. ‘I see you're still wearing the earrings she gave you.'

Vera blew her nose and sniffed. ‘At first I thought I wouldn't, and then I thought I would; so I did.'

‘She'd have been pleased to see you wearing them.'

Vera tried to laugh. ‘She would, wouldn't she? Every day she put on her make-up and picked out some jewellery to wear. She wore her diamond drops most times, but she had all sorts, all colours of the rainbow. And then her rings! Oh, my! Mostly diamonds again, though her eternity ring was alternately emeralds and diamonds, and she had others that she wore from time to time to match different outfits, you know. She would say, “Do you think this goes with my dress?” And we'd say, “Yes,” of course.

‘She was lonely, you know, because many of her friends had moved away or died, and she looked forward to our company. She'd sit down with us while we had a cuppa, and ask us what we were doing at the weekend, and tell us what she'd been doing. And she'd sort of flirt with Fritz, although it wasn't really flirting, but asking if he liked her new eyeshadow, and was her skirt length all right, that sort of thing.'

Vera blew her nose again. ‘I'm glad you found her. I've been wondering, was she in the garage all the time we were going round the house? So near?'

‘I'm afraid so. But she'd been gone a long time before. Think of her as you last saw her, making plans for her future.'

‘Mikey's been asking after her, wanting to see the lady with the pretty things again. I had to tell him this morning that . . . Well, I didn't tell him she was dead. I said she'd gone a long way away and wouldn't be coming back. He was so sweet, he said, “Never mind, Mummy, I'll draw you a picture of her to remember her by.” Wasn't that lovely of him?'

‘It was.'

‘Do you think she suffered much? Fritz said she was wearing that long housecoat of hers and must have fallen downstairs and broken her neck. Do you think that's what happened?'

‘I don't know. The police, thankfully, have taken over and no doubt will let us know sometime.'

‘The only thing is –' Vera's brow wrinkled – ‘if that was how she died – and that seems very likely to me – then how did she come to be in the freezer?'

That was the question, indeed. Ellie shook her head. ‘I don't know.'