Small Town Suspicions (Some Very English Murders Book 3) (17 page)

“Oh, I get it. You realised you’d sold out.”

She thought about arguing back, but in spite of his
aggressive tone, she had to acknowledge that he was correct. So she said,
mildly, “Yes. And I did something about it. I made a change. Life doesn’t turn
out like you expect, but if you’re flexible and roll with it, it can still be
quite exciting.”

“Yeah, living here in the middle of nowhere. Wow. Too much
excitement.” Steve’s shoulders were rounded and he looked sullen, but he kept
on playing with the dog.

“So what’s next?”

“I dunno.”

She couldn’t betray Barry’s confidence in her, but she took
a chance at asking what she hoped was an innocent-sounding and logical
question. “What did you come out with, in the end? Was it a degree, or a BTec
perhaps?”

The hosepipe stopped moving. Staring at the floor, Steve
growled out, “It weren’t nothing.”

“Have you not finished yet? Lots of people take a year out.
It’s really useful.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve finished all right. I got nothing. I didn’t
even bother submitting my final dissertation. They pretty much asked me to
leave. They told me there were no point carrying on. So there you go. You
asked. What am I going to do, hey?”

“I am sorry to hear that you had a bad time. I think you’re
right in coming here to relax and get your head straight about your future.
Just give it some time, Steve. You’ll find a way forward. Having a degree isn’t
the be-all and end-all, you know.”

“You can say that cos you’ve got one.”

Penny nodded. “Perhaps. Does your aunt know?”

“What, that I’m a scummy drop-out? No. Nor me mum or me
dad.”

“You’ll need to tell them. It’s July. Won’t they be
expecting to go to your graduation soon?”

He shrugged. “I told them I didn’t want no fuss.”

“Oh, Steve. Well, you know your family best, and you’re an
adult now. Take your time. It will all work out. I know that sounds like a
silly platitude but honestly, I mean it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He said it in the same tone that a teenager
would mutter out “whatever.” He started to direct the hose back onto the van
again, and Penny called Kali to her. The soaking dog bounded over, lead still
trailing behind, and shook herself when she was in close range.

“I know that was deliberate, you little pest!” Penny said,
picking up the wet lead. “Come on, you. Let’s get home. Oh – hi, Ginni.”

Once again, the hose’s jet of water hit the floor as Steve
stood frozen in shock.

Ginni’s gaze flickered from Steve to Penny and back to
Steve. She was dressed, as usual, in a severe power suit. She looked as if
she’d taken her style inspiration from female politicians in the 1980’s and had
not seen any need to update since then. With her tall figure and already broad
shoulders that hardly needed a set of shoulder pads, she was the epitome of
Amazonian.
Corporate Amazonian
, Penny thought.
A whole new terrifying
trend.

“Steve. I wanted to see how you were doing. You have been
quite a while,” she said to Steve. “Hello, Penny. How are you?”

Penny could feel the stiff politeness in every syllable.
“Fine, thank you. And yourself?”

Ginni was clearly not fine. She said, “I’m very well, thank
you. Steve, are you nearly done? I need to deliver some floral displays.”

“Yeah, sorry. I was distracted.” He shot Penny an
accusatory look.

“Yes, my fault entirely,” she said to Ginni. “I am so
sorry.”

“Gossiping?” Ginni said. She tried to frown but she just
looked rather sad and tired. In a strange way, that made Penny feel sorry for
her. It was hard to see a woman of such strength seem vulnerable.

“No, not at all,” Penny said firmly. “In fact, we were
talking about university. Did you know I did an art degree?”

Penny’s intention was to deflect the focus onto herself,
but it didn’t work. Steve was feeling too sensitive about his own position and
he had not yet learned to hide his feelings. He growled and stamped over to the
tap, turning the hose off with a wrench. From inside the repair workshop, a man
shouted, “About time! That’s our water bill, bor!”

He might have meant the Lincolnshire slang of “neighbour”
or just “young boy” but either way, Steve resented it. He turned so that the
man could not see him, before flicking a rude gesture his way.

“Steven!” Ginni admonished. “And if you must be so
offensive, at least have the courage to do it to his face.”

Penny bit her smile back. She agreed with Ginni on that
one.

“Yeah,” Steve said, randomly. He rolled up the hosepipe and
came back over to the van with a chamois cloth to do the final polish.
“Whatevs. I won’t be long.”

Ginni pointedly looked at her watch and then folded her
arms. She was making it clear she was staying. She nodded at Penny. “Art, was
it? And you got a good job afterwards, didn’t you?”

“I did, yes, eventually. I started at the bottom and worked
up. In truth, I think my attitude was more important than my degree.” She hoped
Steve would take that on board.

“A good degree makes all the difference,” Ginni said. “It
was a chance I was never able to take. One can only hope that others make the
most of their opportunities. Sadly some people seem to lack the serious
approach they need. Steve hasn’t even told me what result he got.”

Penny’s stomach tightened. She knew there was a sickening
inevitability about the coming revelation and Steve would forever blame her for
it.

And here it came.

“Well, I’ll tell you what result I got, seeing as you all
seem so blinking keen to get it out of me,” Steve said, adding a muttered
swearword which caused Ginni to hiss, and Steve to colour up red.

“Please do,” Ginni said tightly.

Penny began to back away, clicking her tongue discreetly to
tempt Kali away from the really, really interesting smell of Ginni’s shoes.

She hadn’t got far enough when Steve blurted out, “I
failed, all right? Actually, no, I didn’t even get the chance to fail.”

“Come on, Kali…”

“I was kicked out! Yeah, there you go. Happy now?”

“Kali!”

Finally the dog appeared to notice the increasing pressure
on the lead, and sprang over to Penny, all big eyes and wagging tail.

Ginni and Steve were facing one another, and Ginni looked
shocked. Steve was red in the face, and quite upset. Neither glanced at Penny.
She waved goodbye anyway, because it felt like the right thing to do, and then
turned around to walk briskly away.

Steve had an awful lot of explaining to do.

* * * *

Penny found herself doing an awful lot of explaining, too.
Francine was eager to hear all about the latest revelations.

“I don’t see what the fuss was about,” Penny said.

Francine shook her head. “I do. Poor Steve. I bet he was
the first in his family to go to university, wasn’t he?”

“I got that impression.”

“So much expectation riding on him! Of course he’s going to
lie.”

“Silly boy,” Penny said. “People do the daftest things.”

“Don’t we just.”

They both laughed. Then Penny said, “Have you any plans for
this afternoon?”

“Why?”

“I’m going over to Sleaford to the crafts hub there.
They’ve got a new exhibition about wool. Do you fancy it?”

Francine smiled. “No, but thank you. I’m making plans to
move on … you’ll be glad to know.”

“Oh? Gosh. What sort of plans?”

“Nothing definite yet. I don’t want to jinx anything before
it’s sorted…”

“Of course, of course. Are you staying in today though?”

“Yes. And don’t worry. I’ll look after Kali.”

“Thanks.”

* * * *

In spite of Penny researching which mobile phone network
provider gave the best coverage in Lincolnshire, she still encountered
blackspots where there was no signal. She had been assured it was common in the
rural areas and that she simply had to deal with it. Coming from London, where
you could use the free wi-fi of every other business on the street, never mind
actual phone coverage, it was a shock to the system.

She was getting used to the phenomena of her phone being
silent for many hours, and then suddenly bursting into life with a backlog of
text messages and missed calls. So it was as she left the delightful provincial
exhibition and made her way back to where she’d parked her car. Her phone
buzzed three times in quick succession. She waited until she was sitting in the
driver’s seat until she thumbed the phone and viewed the missed calls.

All three were from Francine, and there was a voicemail and
a text message.

She couldn’t help thinking the worst.

And the worst was confirmed. The text simply said, “Call me
as soon as you can.”

The voicemail was a little more explanatory. “Don’t panic!”
But Francine’s voice was high and strained. “It’s Kali. She’s going to be okay
but I’m at an emergency vet in Lincoln.” She rattled off the name and address.
“Call me when you can.”

Frantically, Penny rang Francine’s mobile phone and her
hands were sweating and shaking by the time Francine answered.

“What happened?” Penny demanded.

“It’s okay, she’s going to be all right. The vet has had to
make her be sick. It looks like she ate something she shouldn’t have eaten.”

“What? What did you feed her?”

“I haven’t fed her anything! It wasn’t her meal time. We
were sitting in the garden. Well, I was in and out. And then she went funny …
and I called the vet and brought her in.”

“I’m on my way.” Penny threw the phone onto the passenger
seat and slammed the car into gear, managing an impressive wheel-spin out of
the car park and onto the road.

She drove as quickly as she dared on the treacherous
Lincolnshire roads, and it felt painfully slow. She knew, roughly, where the
emergency vet surgery was located, and only took two infuriating wrong turns to
reach it. Then she was out of the car, and flinging herself into the reception
area, where she fell over a mop being wielded by a woman in a burgundy polo
shirt.

Francine was on her feet and at her side immediately.

“Mind the wee,” the woman said, moving her bucket. “We had
an excited terrier in just now.”

Penny didn’t care. “Where’s Kali?”

“Ah! Are you the Rottie’s owner?”

“Yes.”

“It’s okay,” both Francine and the woman said in unison.

The woman put her bucket and mop to one side and beckoned
Penny to the front desk. “She will be fine. But she ate rather a lot of
something that has violently disagreed with her. Now, dogs do this a lot. Don’t
worry. If there is something disgusting and smelly, they’ll try to ingest it.
I’m sure you know that already.”

“She’s pretty good. Sometimes she has a good bite of some
horse poo, but overall she’s not bad.”

“It could have been anything,” the receptionist assured
her. “We had a Saint Bernard in who’d got into a storeroom and eaten half a bag
of onions. They are toxic to dogs, which a lot of people don’t realise when
they give scraps from the Sunday roast.”

“Was the dog okay?”

“Yes, but only due to his size. Raisins and grapes are
another thing.”

“Oh! Kali’s eaten grapes. Oh my goodness. This is all my
fault.”

“When did she eat the grapes?”

“Weeks ago. I dropped some on the floor and whoosh – gone
before I could pick them up.”

“It’s unlikely to be them, then. Some dogs can eat them and
others go into kidney failure. And we don’t know why.”

“Oh. So what did Kali eat?”

“I don’t know. The vet might have more answers for you
later. If you could take a seat for a moment…”

Penny thanked her and slumped down next to Francine. “Has
she dug anything up in the garden?” she asked. “Honestly, I’m not blaming you,
not at all. I know you can’t keep an eye on her for every minute of the day.”

“I feel so bad, though,” Francine said, and she was clearly
close to tears. “I’ve been trying so hard to be her friend. There’s nothing she
could have eaten, I am sure of it. She was by my side most of the time, even
when I left the garden and went into the kitchen. You know what she’s like! If
there’s a chance of food, she’s there. I can’t think what poisoned her.”

A cold chill ran down Penny’s spine. “Poisoned.”

“Yes. There are no onions in your garden, are there?”

“Poisoned … just like Alec …”

“No!” Francine widened her eyes. “It can’t be linked. You
don’t think… do you?”

“I have a history of upsetting people when I go around
asking questions,” Penny said. “And maybe that’s okay. I am fair game, if I go
poking into other people’s lives. But to target my dog. No! That is
not
okay.
”

Francine had tears in her eyes once more. “I am so, so, so
sorry,” she said, and Penny knew that she meant it.

Suddenly the vet emerged from a back room. She was a slim
woman with dark hair and a subtle accent that sounded vaguely European but was
impossible to place. She introduced herself as Anna, which didn’t narrow down
the possible countries of origin particularly.

Penny tried to focus as Anna explained that Kali would stay
in overnight for observation, but now the messy stuff was out of the way, they
were concentrating on rehydrating her and would be checking her main functions
over the next few hours.

Penny thanked her profusely, signed some forms, paid a huge
wodge of cash that she didn’t for a moment begrudge, and shuffled out onto the
pavement. She felt bereft. She wanted to go in and see Kali, but the vet
advised against it. Instead she clung to Francine and let herself have a quick
moment of self-pity.

Then she pulled herself together. “Okay. Kali is in the best
place she can be. I think I’m going to call in to see if Cath’s at work.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to come home?”

“Not really,” Penny said. “I want to distract myself from
the fact that when I come home, Kali won’t be there.”