Rogue in Porcelain (6 page)

‘Only under duress.'

‘Ms Parish, I'm sure, believes cooking is as much men's work as women's,' Finlay said unexpectedly. ‘She doesn't believe in stereotypes; I warn you, we'd better be nice to her, or she'll report us to the Equal Opportunities Board!'

Edward looked surprised. ‘Why? What have we done?'

‘Kept female members of the family out of the business.'

‘I wasn't aware they'd been clamouring to get in.'

Rona lifted a hand in self-defence. ‘Look, I didn't mean to criticize. It just seems strange, in this day and age, not to have any women on the board.'

‘She has a point, you know,' Oliver conceded. ‘In family firms, sisters if not wives are often involved. In ours, though, it so happens that the women are otherwise engaged. Cousin Jackie's an accountant, and as for the wives, mine runs a health-cum-beauty spa, Sam's is an interior designer and Edward's is a magistrate. With the possible exception of Sally, I'm sure you agree their jobs are unisex, and they're not chained to the kitchen sink.'

Rona said humorously, ‘Should I go out, and come in again?'

Everyone laughed, and as their plates were removed and the main course laid before them, she again felt a sense of reprieve. She must be careful, though; the last thing she wanted was to antagonize them. Embarking on Thai fish-cakes and stir-fried vegetables, it struck her that the tally of wives hadn't attached one to either Finlay or Nick. Hard to believe that arguably the two most attractive members of the family had no significant other. She'd check later on her copy of the family tree.

Feeling it would be wise to toss the ball into their court, she asked brightly, ‘Are you planning anything special to celebrate the anniversary?'

There was sudden, total silence, and she looked round in bewilderment. ‘
Now
what have I said?'

‘Nothing, really,' Edward assured her quickly. ‘It's just a subject we're a little sensitive on. But to answer your question, various displays and exhibitions are planned . . .' His voice tailed away, and it was Oliver who continued.

‘But the main event will be the launch of a totally new product we've been working on for some time. Naturally we want to keep it under wraps till the announcement, but concerted efforts are being made to gain access to it. We've had attempted break-ins and even a fire a couple of months ago, though fortunately it was put out before any damage was done. Still, it's led to considerable stress all round.'

‘But that's awful!' Rona exclaimed. ‘Have you any idea who's behind it?'

‘Nothing concrete, and certainly nothing that could be proved.'

‘Are the police working on it?'

‘Not so that you'd notice,' Sam said. ‘Which is why we've doubled our security staff for the next few months. The trouble is that when week after week goes by with nothing happening, they tend to lower their guard.'

‘Do you think whoever it is just wants to uncover the product, or are they out to sabotage it?'

‘That,' said Edward, ‘is the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Admittedly our competitors mightn't be too happy with what we've come up with, but at this stage they've no way of knowing that. Nor can I believe any of them would stoop to these kinds of tactics. But enough of our problems: how else can we help you? Are there any particular papers you'd like to see?'

Rona glanced at Finlay. ‘We were discussing that earlier. Letters or diaries would be invaluable, and I believe there are birth, marriage and death certificates in the museum. Unfortunately, I was too late for that part of the tour.'

‘It's only small, you know,' Nick told her; ‘not like those of the larger factories, but yes, it has a few personal items, and there are facsimiles of some of them for sale in the factory shop.'

‘Those would be fine. Also, of course, I'd be very interested in personal memories any of you might have about your relatives, past or present. I'm hoping to see you individually at some stage, to discuss that aspect.'

Dessert was served, followed by coffee, and the meal came to an end.

‘Have you everything you need for the moment?' Nick asked, as they all left the dining room.

‘Enough to be going on with, thanks. As I said, I missed the museum, but it'll be closed now, so that'll have to wait till my next visit. I just want a look at the gift shop before I go.' She turned to Finlay. ‘Thanks so much for lunch. It was good to meet you all.'

‘If there's anything else I can help with, please let me know.'

It had been an interesting and informative visit, Rona thought fifteen minutes later, as, slipping her purchase into her bag, she left the shop and made her way to the car park. As she'd intimated, she'd like at some stage to interview each of the Curzons separately, to tap their recollections of earlier generations and family folklore. In the meantime, she'd plenty to sort out before she made a return visit.

Emerging onto the main road, she set off for home.

The telephone was ringing as she opened the front door, and she caught it up, pushing the door to with her foot.

‘Ro?' It was Lindsey's voice, taut and trembling.

‘Linz! Is something wrong?'

‘Is Max home yet?'

‘No, he won't be for a couple of hours.'

‘Can I come round, then? Straight away?'

‘Of course, but what's the matter? What's happened?'

‘Tell you when I see you,' Lindsey said rapidly, and rang off.

Rona frowned, shrugged off her car coat and hung it on the hall stand. She'd intended making a cup of tea, but now she'd wait for Lindsey. She'd sounded upset, Rona thought worriedly, as she took her briefcase up to the study. Dropping it on a chair, she extracted the brochures and leaflets she'd collected and laid them on the desk, ready to be gone through in the morning. She did, however, unfold the family tree Meg Fairclough had given her. Beneath both Finlay and Nick's names was printed the stark word ‘Divorced'.

She was still looking at it when the door bell sounded through the house and she ran downstairs to admit her sister.

‘Lindsey, what—'

Lindsey pushed past her into the house and promptly burst into tears. Thoroughly alarmed now, Rona put an arm round her.

‘It's not Mum or Pops, is it?'

Lindsey shook her head and Rona, breathing a tremulous sigh of relief, led her down the basement stairs to the kitchen, where she collapsed onto a chair. Rona put the kettle on and leaned back against the Aga.

‘Now, what is it?'

Lindsey fumbled in her bag for a handkerchief and blew her nose. ‘Carol Hurst called at the office this morning,' she said.

‘And?'

‘And Jonathan and I were – together.'

Rona frowned. ‘
How
together?'

‘Kissing, that's all,' Lindsey said impatiently, ‘but my blouse was undone. God, Rona –' she pressed both fists against her temples – ‘I
hate
myself for what I've done to that woman! Letting myself be hoodwinked by all that “what the eye doesn't see” spiel. Of
course
we're hurting her, cheapening her marriage, if nothing else.'

Rona cut sharply into the tirade. ‘Are you saying she caught you?'

‘No, but only just not.'

‘So why the drama? You've known all along what you were doing.'

Lindsey's eyes fell. ‘It was the first time I've seen them together,' she said in a low voice. ‘I'd convinced myself it wasn't a happy marriage, and just – blotted out her and the children. But it's obvious she thinks the world of him, and she was so
trusting
, Ro. She even asked if she was interrupting anything.'

The kettle shrilled and Rona turned to pour the tea. Behind her, Lindsey went on speaking.

‘At first, I was just relieved we'd managed to get away with it, but I couldn't get her out of my mind. I've been thinking of her all afternoon.'

Rona put two mugs on the table and sat down opposite her. ‘Go on.'

‘After lunch I went to Jonathan's office to collect some files, and he was so bloody
cool
about it. He even put an arm round me and said, “To continue where we left off . . .”. And I realized I'd been burying my head in the sand, aiding and abetting him in his sordid little affair, while all the time he'd been playing the perfect husband.'

‘Did you tell him any of this?'

‘I tried to, but he wasn't having any. He said I'd had a fright, that was all, and I'd soon recover my balance, and Carol didn't suspect a thing. As though that would make me feel better! Then he actually said, “It adds a bit of spice to it, don't you think? Like that time your mother came to your flat while we were in bed.” She flashed a glance at Rona. ‘I told you about that. I just couldn't
believe
how unfeeling he was.'

She took a sip of the scalding tea. ‘What's wrong with me, Ro? Why can't I find someone like Max and settle down, instead of lurching from man to man like this?'

‘Because you're a poor judge of men; I've always said so. But you told me Jonathan wouldn't last much longer, so why the histrionics? Here's the ideal chance to cut your losses. Anyway, I thought you'd found someone else?'

‘Wrong on both counts: What I
said
was that the thing with Jonathan wasn't long-
lasting
, but I certainly didn't expect it to end this soon. And I haven't
found
someone, I've
seen
him, that's all. Nothing may come of it.'

‘You seemed pretty confident last time we spoke.'

‘Only because I usually get my way,' Lindsey said bitterly.

There was a brief silence. ‘Do I gather Jonathan doesn't want to end it?' Rona hazarded.

‘Oh no, he's perfectly happy with his bit on the side. He's convinced I'll get over my pangs of conscience.'

‘Well, mind you don't. Think how you'd feel if she
had
caught you, and you were responsible for the break-up of her marriage. Heaven knows, I never thought I'd say this, but why don't you just stick to Hugh? At least he has no other commitments.' She paused. ‘
Are
you going to Guildford with him this weekend?'

‘I might as well, mightn't I? It could help me sort myself out. I might even take your advice, though both parents would have a stroke if Hugh and I got back together.'

‘Well, there were plenty of pieces to pick up last time.'

‘You won't tell Max about this, will you? I don't want to lower his opinion of me still further.'

‘Secrets of the confessional. That's what twins are for.'

‘So.' Lindsey blew her nose again. ‘Enough about me; what have you been up to?'

Rona smiled. ‘Today, I had lunch with two attractive, unattached men.'

Lindsey gave a brief laugh. ‘Some people have all the luck,' she said.

Rona didn't mention her sister's visit when Max and Gus returned shortly after Lindsey'd left. It would have been impossible to do so without giving some reason for it, and she'd plenty to tell him about her trip to Chilswood.

‘So what are they like,
en famille
?' Max asked, pouring them both a drink.

‘They seemed very pleasant, even if they have antediluvian ideas about women.'

Max grinned. ‘
Kinde, kurche, küche
?'

‘Pretty much, but they didn't like me commenting on it. Would you believe, no women members of the family have ever had any part in the firm?'

‘Perhaps they didn't want to,' Max suggested mildly, passing her a glass.

‘That's what they tried to tell me. Anyway, I went on a factory tour, which was interesting; it began with a twenty-minute film on the firm's history, and should have ended with a visit to the museum, but I had to skip that because we were running late and I was meeting the directors for lunch. So I've earmarked it for my next visit.'

She sipped her vodka. ‘They're pretty freaked out about this new product they're launching. It seems they're beset on all sides by people trying to break in and discover what it is.'

‘Par for the course, I'd say. If you announce you've got a secret, you're inviting trouble. They should have kept quiet about it.'

The telephone rang, and he reached behind to retrieve it. ‘Yes – hang on a minute. Who shall I say is speaking?'

He raised his eyebrows and handed Rona the phone. ‘For you. Reigate police.'

She stared at him in bewilderment. ‘
Who?
' Then, as he merely shrugged, she said into the mouthpiece, ‘Hello?'

‘Rona Parish?' It was a woman's voice.

‘Yes, speaking.'

‘It's Reigate police station, ma'am, phoning to say we've found your handbag.'

‘My handbag?' Rona repeated blankly.

‘It was handed in this afternoon. No money in it, I'm afraid, only—'

‘But – I haven't lost a handbag,' Rona protested.

There was an uncertain pause. ‘Perhaps I should have said shoulder-bag? Brown leather, with a broken strap? Of course, it mightn't have
been
broken when—'

‘I haven't lost
any
kind of bag!' Rona interrupted. ‘And Reigate, did you say? I've never been there in my life!' She frowned. ‘How did you get my name?'

‘It was inside the bag, on a slip of paper.
Rona Parish, 19 Lightbourne Avenue, Marsborough
, and the phone number I've just rung.'

‘But that's – weird,' Rona said slowly. ‘Where was it found?'

‘In some bushes by the side of the road. Thrown there, I should say, after everything of value had been taken. There's no purse or wallet, not even a diary or keys; just toiletry things – lipstick, comb and so on.'

‘And no one has reported losing it?'

‘Not so far. You seemed our best lead.'