The Diary Of Pamela D. (18 page)

‘I’ll call the station,’ came the Chief
Inspector’s voice. ‘If there really are any bodies in the tarn, I
want them out of there during the night, if at all possible. The
less everyone here sees, the better.’

They found the first body in the exact spot
Pamela had dreamt about. By the time morning had come, however, the
police were still dragging the tarn for bodies.

In the kitchen, Theo, with his arm
protectively around Pamela, said quietly, ‘How many, Robert?’

The Chief Inspector had just come in the back
door and was removing his wellies. Heaving a sigh, he said, ‘Five
so far. Possibly six. Maybe more. They’ve been in there for some
time, so there’s not much left, I’m afraid.’

Mrs. Dewhurst, who looked dishevelled and
tired, as though she had been up all night wrestling demons, said,
‘Come in and have something to eat, man! You look nearly as bad as
I do this morning. You’re not as young as you used to be.’

Giving her a private sort of
smile, he said, ‘Nay, lass. But we’re
both
a lot wiser, eh?’

As they went to breakfast, Pamela noted with
relief that Tessa had been taken under Ellie’s and Doris’
protective wings, and seemed to find a semblance of order and
comfort by helping out in the kitchen.

And Theo- he hadn’t once left her side since
this business began. He was at once concerned and solicitous, if
that was the right word. She sighed, inwardly. But he was still
treating her like a child.

She kicked herself mentally for thinking
that. At least now she had his undivided attention. Why couldn’t
she be satisfied and just leave it at that? Unfortunately, she had
the answer for that one ready at hand. She couldn’t be satisfied
because it wasn’t the sort of attention she wanted from him. At the
same time she began to suspect that perhaps Tessa might be right;
that once she and Theo were married, he would be able to let his
guard down. Perhaps he needed to distance himself in order to keep
his passions at bay. But was that possible? Was he waiting for the
day when they would share themselves as man and wife?

She ventured a glance at him and found that
he was watching her speculatively, and for a moment she had the
uncomfortable feeling that she had spoken out loud, or- even
worse!- that he could read her thoughts! He gave her one of the
small, enigmatic smiles he had taken to giving her lately. Then, he
kissed her.

Her arms quickly encircled his neck, as
though possessed of a volition all their own. All too soon,
however, they parted, she breathless, he with an unmistakable smile
lurking in his eyes.

‘Theo, sit down and stop tormenting the poor
girl!’ his mother said, buttering a piece of toast. ‘And you, young
lady! If you don’t stop looking like that, you’re going to hurt
yourself.’

‘It takes a one to know a one, Mother,’ Theo
drawled, causing Mrs. Dewhurst to look up at him in perplexity.

‘If you don’t mind your manners, Theo, I’m
going to . . . well, when I think of something, you’ll definitely
be the first to know.’

To Pamela’s incomprehension,
Mrs. Dewhurst was blushing. Catching Pamela’s eye, she mouthed,
‘Don’t even
ask
.’
Pamela began eating her breakfast, thoughtfully, wondering what was
going on. Until she noticed the look that passed between Inspector
Matthews and Mrs. Dewhurst. She didn’t realize she was staring
until Theo gave her hand a little squeeze. To her lasting surprise,
when she looked up, he was grinning broadly, but he erased his
smile as quickly, putting a finger to his lips.

You utter
fraud
! she thought, having finally gotten a
look behind his mask.

And yet, for some reason,
she
still
wasn’t
entirely sure of what she’d seen, or what she’d learned about
him.

The following day, she, Tessa and Fred went
to the Crown Tavern to check on how the work was progressing. Theo
had been right: the entire wall was less than stable. The masons
had to literally take it apart, stone by stone, and reassemble it.
But the work was nearing completion and already business was brisk,
despite the renovations that were taking place.

The transformation was miraculous, though she
had only made subtle structural changes and removed a fair bit of
bric-a-brac. But allowing the light of day in, while making the
place seem accessible to passers by, had altered the atmosphere of
the place so dramatically that it seemed wholly different.

The number of staff had tripled as well, and
she had been careful to hire a mixture of people, blending youth
with experience, crustiness with humour, acid wit with
kindness.

‘The menu’s got me kind of flummoxed,’ she
candidly admitted to the barkeep. ‘I’d like to make a few changes
but I get the impression that it’s not the food that’s the problem.
Like, it’s the preparation, or something. I just wish I knew more
about it.’

An older woman with a voice like brass, who
had once been a regular and had recently been attracted back, cut
in and said, ‘I’ll tell you exactly what the problem is, young
lady. It’s Gladys, the cook. I know, because she’s my sister. She
was a good waitress but when Daphne quit she was called upon to run
the kitchen, and there she has remained ever since. Gladys has
never been able to cook to save her life.’

‘I see,’ Pamela said tactfully. ‘Well, thank
you. I’ll certainly talk to Gladys about it.’

The story she got from
Gladys, however, so matched the one she had got from her sister at
the bar that Pamela was prompted to ask, ‘Would you
like
to go back to
waitressing?’

‘No need to even
ask
,’ Gladys said without
hesitation. ‘I hate being cooped up in that kitchen all
day.’

Pamela took a deep breath, expelled it
slowly, puffing her cheeks out.

‘I guess that means I’m going to have to
start looking for a new cook.’

‘Don’t be daft!’ Gladys said good-naturedly.
‘Just give Daphne a call and ask her to have a look at the way
you’ve improved the place. She’ll be back here in a heartbeat. And
she’ll bring all her regulars here to boot.’

Afterwards, Pamela, Tessa and Fred sat down
to lunch. Pamela dictated to Tessa for a few minutes, then went
over the notes with her to make sure nothing had been forgotten. In
the middle of this Pamela noticed a fairly tall woman enter the
bar. She was blonde and striking, though dressed just a little
ostentatiously, wearing Italian sunglasses, spiked heels,
leopard-patterned fake-fur jacket, emerald-green blouse and leather
skirt. But that wasn’t what had Pamela’s attention. She recognised
the woman immediately as Theo’s ex-girlfriend. And she had Pamela
pointed out to her by the barkeep and was walking straight towards
her.

Extending her hand, the woman said, ‘I
understand you’re the girl who’s marrying Theo.’

Pamela shook the proffered hand, wondering if
she should expect trouble. The woman, giving no indication of her
intent, smiled, removed her sunglasses, and sat down without being
invited.

‘Not to worry, luv. I can’t stay for more
than a moment or two, but. You know who I am, don’t you?’

‘I’ve seen your picture,’ Pamela told
her.

‘I hope it were one where I
had something on,’ the woman said. ‘Any road, I’m glad Theo finally
found someone else to make his life miserable. When I heard he was
getting hitched, I finally felt like a big weight had been taken
off. But I still felt I had to come by, just to take the measure of
you. I didn’t realize that Theo was marrying a kiddie, though! How
old are you? Seventeen? Eighteen? You’re nowt but a babbie. Never
took Theo for a perv, but. Oh well, I can tell you’re just like
him- upper-crust, sharp in business, good with the hoi polloi,
hardworking . . . no dirt under
your
fingernails-’

Biting back on sudden anger,
thin-lipped and pale, Pamela said, ‘I grew up on the
streets
, for your
information. Doing business of any sort is entirely new to me. I
have
always
worked
hard, and I am no stranger to having dirt under my fingernails. If
you’ve come here hoping to ease your conscience or to damage Theo
in my eyes, you can forget it. The only thing Theo ever saw in you
was a chance to get back at his father. Well, you’re a little late.
Henry Dewhurst is long out of the frame. And so are
you.’

Oblivious to the two pairs of eyes that
witnessed this exchange with frank admiration, Pamela watched as
the woman’s colour drained from her face, saw her haughtiness
evaporate.

‘Well, well,’ she muttered, rising to her
feet, an unmistakable and unwilling note of respect in her voice,
‘Theo’s got himself a real tiger.’ She left, slowly at first, but
with growing alacrity, a stifled petulance in the set of her
shoulders.

Fred whistled the moment the woman had left.
‘Remind me to stay on your good side.’

‘Ditto,’ Tessa echoed. ‘You were
awesome!’

‘I’ve never been so rude to anyone before in
my life,’ Pamela said, trying unsuccessfully to muster some sense
of remorse, however small. ‘I wanted to scratch her eyes out.’

‘You may as well have,’ Fred told her. ‘It’s
a certainty that she’ll never try to muck with you again . . .
unless she’s daft.’

When their food arrived, it was served by
Gladys, who stood watching the three expectantly as they began.
Pamela stopped immediately after the first bite of her pastie.

‘Gladys! This is fabulous!’

‘Don’t thank me,’ she rejoined with a smile.
‘I just spoke to Daphne on the phone. At her insistence she whipped
up your order and sent it right over, just to be sure you don’t go
ahead and change your mind. She wants to start tomorrow- and she
wants to speak with you about making some changes.’

Pamela looked a question.

‘She wants you to expand the kitchen, knock
out the wall on the right there to take in that old storage room
that’s too small to use.’

Pamela winced, thinking of the cost. The wall
would be expensive to remove- it was structurally necessary to the
building. But, doing some quick mental arithmetic, she quickly
grasped how little time it would take for the pub to recoup the
loss.

‘Tell Daphne she’s got it,’ Pamela said. ‘And
tell her for me that if she has any other suggestions to just leave
them with me, and they’ll be put into action just as soon as I can
get to them.’

Gladys beamed a smile at her and went back to
the kitchen with a spring in her step, secure in the knowledge that
it would be her last time.

‘You’re acting like a Mrs. Dewhurst already,’
Tessa told her. ‘Shall I start making some calls about the
wall?’

Tessa’s comment reacted on Pamela like cold
water. ‘Sure,’ she replied, feeling a mixture of anticipation and
fear. In only one more week, she and Theo would be husband and
wife.

And then?

But her mind still refused to think that far
ahead.

-9-

Pamela sat at her desk going over the latest
figures from the Crown Tavern. The news was unanimously good- there
were lineups every noon hour and every evening from seven to ten
o’clock. She had added a breakfast menu after having moved opening
time from eleven in the morning to six AM- no booze in the early
morning, just good food- and the move had paid off, drawing a whole
new clientele.

Theo responded to this news by moving Tessa
up to the position of manager-trainee and hiring Pamela a new
secretary, a young man named Thomas Woolley, or Tom, as he
preferred to be called. He was a good-looking, competent young man
who loved his work and was easy to get along with. He was also
experienced and knowledgeable, especially when it came to high-tech
modern gadgetry and finding innovative ways to cross-reference
inter-company business to eliminate redundancies, share costs, and
produce items within the overall structure, in turn selling its own
products to itself- at cost. This information he had gleaned while
working at a large firm. He had learned well, and should have moved
up the corporate ladder, but for the incompetence of his superiors
who laid him off to save their own skins. Pamela expected from the
beginning that he would pass her fairly quickly and end up
contributing far more than she ever could, but in the meantime she
was determined to learn everything and anything she could from him
and apply it to the workings of the Dewhurst businesses and
estates.

Pamela herself was moved on to the management
of one of the Dewhurst estates and was currently looking over the
options. To subdivide or to preserve? To renovate or to demolish?
To turn into yet another quaint bed-and-breakfast or hope for an
elusive bolt from the blue that would inspire her to turn it into
something that would preserve the character of the old estate and
its buildings without Disneyfying local history?

It would be easier if she
could just keep her mind on things. But with the wedding only days
away now she was becoming perpetually jumpy. It was the uncertainty
that had her stomach turning over in knots. Did Theo love her? He
had certainly shown flashes of caring, he had now kissed her a
number of times, and she very much enjoyed their quiet time
together late at night in the upstairs sitting room. But what if
things
didn’t
improve after they were married? What if he was being nicer
than he would after they were married? What if he really did see
her as more of an asset than a potential lover? And as to
that-

Pamela found the very
prospect of their wedding night to be the most frightening aspect
of all. All the holding and cuddling would be gone right along with
their bedclothes! The very thought of lying in bed with Theo, both
of them
naked,
caused her heart to pound uncontrollably with fear. True, she
was curious. True, there were carnal feelings lurking traitorously
in her nether regions, often tormenting her with the anticipation
of shared mutual pleasure and desire. And true, she was helplessly,
hopelessly in love with Theo, and wanted to please him in every
way.