The Cornish Guest House (37 page)

‘I didn’t mean to bring you my worries,’ Liz went on, raising her voice so that Pat could hear. ‘I meant to come and cheer you up.’

‘Me? I don’t need cheering up,’ Pat said unconvincingly. Even her voice sounded weaker. ‘Everyone’s been so kind. Look!’ She gestured with her good arm to the table beside her, on which were arranged boxes of chocolates, a bowl of grapes, a pile of books, get-well cards and several more bunches of flowers in assorted vases. ‘I’ve been spoiled rotten.’

‘How lovely!’ said Liz, opening one of the boxes. ‘Would you like one?’ But Pat pulled a face. ‘Don’t seem to have much appetite, to be honest with you. You help yourself.’

But Liz wasn’t in the mood either, so she put the box away.

‘I still can’t believe I was that stupid,’ Pat went on sadly. ‘Gullible, that’s the word. A silly old fool. All that money.’ She shook her head and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘I mean, I know it wasn’t much by some people’s standards, but it was a lot to me.’

Liz passed her a tissue and she blew her nose. Seeing her friend in this state made her furious. It wasn’t just the broken arm, though that was bad enough, it was the fact that she’d had such a terrible fright. It wasn’t fair at her age. It seemed as if all the stuffing had been knocked out of her.

‘I hate those people,’ Liz growled. ‘They deserve to be shot.’

Pat leaned forward a little and patted Liz’s hand with her own good one. ‘Lord help us! Here’s me going on about my problems and you must be worried sick about Loveday. Any news?’

It was typical of the old woman to think of others, even at a time like this.

‘Nothing,’ said Liz, fishing a tissue from the sleeve of her top and blowing her own nose. ‘Everyone’s pointing the finger at Jesse and the police arrested him, but I know he wouldn’t touch her. I feel so sorry for him and his family, it’s horrible.’

‘’Course he wouldn’t hurt her,’ Pat muttered. ‘What nonsense!’

‘Even Robert thinks he’s guilty. I’m afraid we argued about it this morning and now we’re at daggers drawn, and I don’t think he’ll ever speak to me again.’

‘Poor lamb, and in your condition, too. I’m not surprised things are a bit tense, considering the strain you’re both under. It’s enough to make anyone flip their lid.’

A man came by with a tea trolley and Pat indicated that she’d like two cups. ‘And two sugars for my friend here, she needs it.’

Liz took the drink gratefully, her hand trembling slightly as she put the cup to her lips, while Pat watched thoughtfully. ‘What exactly was the argument about, then? What was it that made Robert lose his rag?’

Liz rested the cup and saucer on her lap and started to detail the conversation about Luke. Before she’d had a chance to finish, however, Pat shifted more violently than would have seemed possible a moment ago, almost knocking over both their drinks, and managed to heave herself a little up the bed.

‘That man!’ she croaked, and several people in the neighbouring beds turned to stare. ‘I knew he’d have something to do with it. Why your husband doesn’t listen to you instead of him I’ll never know.’

Liz smiled, grateful for the solidarity, though she wished that Pat wouldn’t tire herself.

‘Never liked Luke,’ the old woman continued hotly. ‘Too smooth by half, and Loveday shouldn’t have ever gone to work for him. Big mistake.’

She bobbed up and down and Liz told her to be careful, fearing that she might injure herself again.

‘It’s all right, Robert knows—’

‘If I wasn’t cooped up here I’d go round myself and give him a piece of my mind.’

She flopped back on the pillows, exhausted with the effort, then took a deep breath and said more softly, ‘Your first proper ding-dong, was it?’

Liz nodded miserably.

‘I thought as much. I remember when I first rowed with my Geoffrey I thought my heart would break. But when you love each other as much as we did – and as much as you two do – you get through it, and believe it or not, you come out all the stronger.’

Liz thanked Pat for the advice and was about to say goodbye, thinking that she’d done quite enough talking, when one of the nurses bustled over to announce that more visitors had arrived. ‘You’re quite the popular one today!’

Hovering by the door just a few metres away was Annie, in pink jogging bottoms, trainers and a grey sweatshirt, her blonde hair tied back in two plaits. Beside her stood Nathan and just behind them was a fragile-looking elderly woman, clutching on to Annie’s arm.

‘I’ve brought my gran to see you,’ Annie explained, ushering the old woman towards the bed. ‘I thought you’d like to meet her. She lives in Devon and the same thing happened to her – she was tricked out of her savings.’

Pat’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, I don’t think… I wasn’t expecting… Look at the state of me!’

‘She’s not well enough,’ Hazel muttered to Annie. ‘It was a nice idea but—’

Liz thought there was something peculiarly touching about the old woman who, though bent and hesitant, had taken a great deal of trouble with her appearance. Her short white hair was neatly combed and she had on just a shade too much blusher. On her top half she wore a neat, peacock-blue blazer with gold buttons, and below it a pale blue skirt and shiny white patent court shoes.

‘How rude I am! Take a pew!’ Pat said suddenly, and Liz was relieved that she wasn’t going to shoo the visitors away immediately.

‘Hazel,’ the old woman said politely, stepping forward to shake Pat’s good hand. ‘I’ve had a bit of a trauma, same as you, but I’m feeling a little better now.’

Liz jumped up and Hazel glanced at Annie, who nodded at her to take the seat beside Pat’s bed.

‘You see…’ Annie smiled ‘…you’re not the only ones. It’s happened to dozens of people.’

She turned to Liz and lowered her voice. ‘Gran feels so dreadful, partly because she thinks she was stupid. She can’t believe she fell for it. I’ve tried to tell her it’s going on all over but she won’t believe me. I thought if they talked to each other it might help.’

‘Nice one,’ Liz replied warmly. ‘Better to get angry together than sit there on their own, feeling like victims. As long as they don’t wear themselves out, that is.’

‘We won’t stay long,’ Annie reassured her.

Liz left the two old women recounting the sorry details of their experiences while Nathan and Annie listened in. As she reached the exit she heard Pat cry in a surprisingly strong voice, ‘The rotten scoundrel, I’d like to wring his neck!’

‘Scumbag!’ Hazel retorted.

‘Language, ladies!’ said Nathan, mock-shocked, but Liz didn’t catch anything more because she was halfway down the corridor, smiling to herself and thinking that Annie’s idea might just turn out to have been a very good one indeed.

*

Demi, that was the name of the annoying waitress. Demi, like the actress. She was lazy and arrogant, Loveday had said, but they’d kept in touch even so. Now Demi worked at some trendy bar in London. When Tabitha racked her brains some more she found that could even remember the name: Violet’s, in East Sheen.

‘East Sheen’s not central London,’ Loveday had explained over a cuppa one afternoon, ‘it’s on the outskirts, but you can get into Leicester Square and that quite easily. There’s loads of buses and trains. She’s been to some of the famous nightclubs. She’s invited me to stay but I won’t go. I’d like to see London, but not with her.’

She’d sounded impressed, she couldn’t help it, and Tabitha had suspected that she harboured a secret admiration for Demi, however much she might try to deny it.

‘You should go,’ Tabitha had said. ‘London’s great. You’d enjoy it.’

‘Nah,’ Loveday had replied, a little too eagerly, ‘she just wants to show off.’

Tabitha hadn’t mentioned this to anyone, not Liz or Robert and certainly not the police; Luke had eyes and ears everywhere. Instead, she’d texted him on the train from Plymouth to say that she’d be staying with Molly for a few nights, because she needed to ‘get away’, and Molly had promised to cover for her if need be, though Tabitha hadn’t said what she’d be doing.

Luke had responded immediately, furious, of course, spitting mad, ostensibly because he’d have to cancel their bookings and lay Shelley off, but Tabitha hoped he’d be so caught up in the investigation that she’d have a day or two’s grace at least before his guys would come looking, and she felt reasonably safe from Carl, too. It wasn’t long since Molly had seen him in Manchester after all.

Tabitha had only visited London twice in her life, once as a child when she’d been with her family to a dull religious convention, and another time with Luke. He’d taken her there for a long weekend before Oscar was born, and they’d stayed somewhere near Marble Arch and visited many of the tourist sites, including Buckingham Palace and the London Eye.

She remembered eating in fancy restaurants and seeing a West End show. They’d either walked or hailed black cabs, so she’d never before used the underground, which she found hot, confusing, crowded and not at all convenient with a toddler in tow. Somehow or other, however, she’d managed yesterday to manoeuvre Oscar and his pushchair on to a train to Richmond, and from there it had been only a short walk to the small hotel that she’d booked in a different name in such a hurry that she’d forgotten to mention she’d have a two-year-old with her. Fortunately, it had turned out to be an ideal choice: friendly and relaxed, with a pretty garden and easy access to the shops and the river Thames.

Oscar had slept with her in the double bed last night, and they’d eaten breakfast in the restaurant this morning. He was finding it all a huge adventure. Now, as he stood at the washbasin, waiting, open-mouthed and obedient, while she cleaned his teeth, she outlined their plans for today. It was likely to be a long one and she needed to keep him sweet.

‘We’re going to travel on a big red bus,’ she said eagerly. ‘We’ll sit upstairs where it’s really high, and we can watch all the people and cars going by down below.’

Oscar would have spoken but there was too much toothpaste, so he hopped up and down instead.

They left the hotel at around 11 a.m. and walked, hand in hand, to the bus stop, Tabitha pushing the empty stroller with the other arm. It was a fine day and the place was humming with noise and activity. Some workmen in fluorescent yellow jackets were standing around a hole in the road, one operating an ear-splitting drill, and he nodded as she and Oscar passed by. At the same time a cyclist in a helmet and Lycra shouted something as he swerved to avoid the safety barriers, narrowly missing a red car in the process and eliciting gasps from onlookers.

Tabitha could sense Oscar’s wonder and apprehension and she felt it too, because it all seemed a world away from Tremarnock. She’d forgotten what giant, bustling cities were like and realised, with some surprise, that she rather missed the light and peace of the village, though not her husband.

She was wearing anonymous jeans, trainers and a green waterproof, and had pulled her mass of black hair back in a tight ponytail, but she wished that she’d brought sunglasses and a baseball cap, too. There again, she didn’t want to look as if she had something to hide.

They had to wait about ten minutes for the bus, but the journey itself sped by because Oscar was happy gazing out of the window, pointing at the sights and making comments, and she enjoyed watching him. He was particularly taken with a fire engine that hurtled past, siren on and blue lights flashing; you didn’t see many of those in Tremarnock.

‘Nee-naw,’ he cried, standing on her lap to get a better view, his eyes wide with amazement.

The bus jolted, he tipped forward and before Tabitha could prevent it he’d grabbed the black scarf off the lady’s head in front.

She spun round, looking daggers at them both. ‘You should keep him under control.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Tabitha, handing the scarf back and thinking that the woman needn’t be as sharp. It had been a mistake after all, and Oscar was only little. It occurred to her that folk in Cornwall would have been rather more forgiving.

On arrival, Oscar objected to being strapped in his pushchair so she had to bribe him with a packet of biscuits from their hotel room that she’d shoved in her pocket for emergencies. Her courage seemed to fail as she approached the address and spotted the sign, ‘Violet’s Cocktail and Wine Bar’, in round, girly letters above the door, so she crossed quickly to the other side and pretended to look in a shoe-shop window.

When at last her nerve returned she swung back round, only to realise that the lights in Violet’s were off and the white door was firmly closed. Had the place shut down? Her spirits sank, until she realised that it might only be open at night and she kicked herself for not having checked on the website. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the road again and read the sign in the window that said it was open from 5 p.m. to 11.30, Tuesday to Sunday. Today was Monday. Damn.

She thought of Luke and her heart fluttered. Should she go home now, pretend that she’d been missing him and couldn’t bear to be away after all? He might never find out what she’d really been up to and it was probably a wild-goose chase anyway. But the idea of Loveday, still alive, perhaps, but in grave danger kept her strong. Hopefully she, Tabitha, had covered her tracks carefully enough. She gave a deep sigh.

‘Come on, Oscar, off we go, back on the big red bus.’

He didn’t object; it was all still a great novelty.

As they waited at the stop, she stared back at the bar, willing it to give up its secrets, but it remained empty, mysterious and silent. There was nothing for it but to return tomorrow.

It was Tuesday morning, two days since the argument. Liz and Robert had hardly spoken and it was killing her, but she didn’t feel that she could apologise because her views about Luke and Jesse hadn’t changed. As far as she was concerned, her husband was gravely mistaken about them both, but it seemed that he was just as convinced of his own position as she was of hers and unwilling to talk it out; they were at an impasse.

Now that all the obvious areas around Tremarnock had been checked, most of the villagers had scaled down their search, though Andy and Sarah were still out each day with the police, because doing something was better than the alternative. Robert was putting in a few hours, too, but also spending more time at the restaurant because business had to go on. He’d been obliged to hire a temporary sous-chef, now that Jesse seemed to have quit, and the new lad wasn’t much good and needed a lot of supervision, which only added to the stress.