Small Town Shock (Some Very English Murders Book 1) (12 page)

She killed the screaming engine, and sat in the car for a
few moments to gather her courage. She’d registered as a new patient when she’d
arrived but had not had a consultation yet, in spite of two phone calls and a
letter urging her to come in for a wellbeing check-up. Doctors seemed to pursue
anyone past the age of forty with persistent offers of blood pressure checks,
lifestyle checks, flu jabs, pneumonia jabs, and general advice. It made one
feel quite ill.

Anyway, she knew her wellbeing was lacking. That was why
she was here, after all. She didn’t need some doctor advising her to chill out
and maybe take up exercise.

Right. I need to do this, she said to herself. It is time
to put my big girl panties on and all that. She sucked in a deep breath and
staggered out across the car park to the single-storey surgery building,
wincing with each step, her arms flailing as she tried to hop.

It was one of those modern, eco-friendly sorts of places
with lots of natural wood and open spaces and carefully angled windows. It
smelled of air freshener, which was probably the best thing a medical complex
could smell of, considering the other options. The entrance was wide and
welcoming, leading straight to an airy room with a curved reception desk in the
centre.

And there was one very harassed member of staff behind that
desk, who was fending off the advances of two ringing phones and a pile of
folders. She had a red, tense face and was clutching a pen like it was a dagger
as her hand hovered over a memo pad. On the public side of the desk, there was a
woman with a baby on her hip, waving some paper at her. Another man stood a
little way behind the woman with the baby, patiently waiting his turn, and
unashamedly eavesdropping.

The receptionist shot Penny a filthy look – how dare people
turn up and want attention! – and turned back to the angry mother. She spoke
with the precise, clipped tones of someone unsuccessfully repressing their
frustration, jabbing the pen into the pad with every other word. “I can put it
to the doctor on her break but you won’t get it signed until the end of the
day. We have
procedures.
”

“Yeah but I’m going up town now though, aren’t I? So I need
it now, don’t I?” The young mother sounded close to tears, her voice high and
whiny, but in an angry sort of way.

“I’m sorry,” the receptionist said. She was clearly sorry
that she was having to face the young mother. “There is nothing I can do.”

“Maybe you should have got it signed before,” the waiting man
offered helpfully, and both the receptionist and the mother glared at him. “Hey.
Only saying.”

“Butt out,” the mother said. Then she sighed dramatically
and slammed the piece of paper onto the desk. “Well. I’ll just leave it then,
shall I?”

“I’ll call you as soon as it’s done.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for nothing.” The mother stormed out,
hissing at Penny as she pushed past. Penny felt her eyebrows shoot up in
surprise.

The man laughed. “Oh, don’t mind her. It’s stress and all
that. Motherhood. It sent my wife quite doolally. I don’t think she’s ever been
quite right since, to be honest.”

“Stress?” the receptionist said indignantly. “Stress? I’ll
give you stress, Mr Wilcox. I’ll give you stress! Here I am, on my own and
struggling to cope. Do you know how long it takes to recruit a new member of
staff? Ages! You know
that woman
was sacked without warning, so it
wasn’t as if we had someone lined up and waiting for a job.” She picked up the
piece of paper that the mother had left and seemed about to rip it in half. The
phones stopped ringing for a moment. Then one started up again and the receptionist
looked fit to burst.

“I don’t see why you hired her in the first place,” the man
said, turning away and winking at Penny in that strange way some men had when
they knew someone else was listening in. “Everyone knows Mary can’t ever keep
her mouth shut. She never has. You were idiots for taking her on, really.”

The receptionist was answering the telephone but she glared
at the man fiercely, her eyes narrow.

“Yes. Yes. Mrs Jenkins. Two o’clock. Fine. Thanks for
letting us know.” She thumped the receiver back onto its cradle. “I took her on
because I wanted to do something nice for someone who needed it, as it
happens,” she said to the man. “More fool me, I suppose. So yes, I was gullible
but we all wised up quick enough. I’m just surprised how long it’s took with
Eleanor.”

The man shrugged. “Best friends are a funny old thing. And
chalk and cheese or what, eh, that pair?”

A buzzer went on a screen and the man nodded. “That’s me! I’ll
be off in then. Let’s see about this itch. I’m red raw down there.”

Penny wanted to say no, wait. Mary and Eleanor – was that
Mary, David Hart’s partner? And Eleanor, that must be David Hart’s sister in
law. It wasn’t a very unusual name but surely it was her. Best friends … or
were they? The Lincolnshire habit of mixing up tenses in speech had left Penny
in some doubt. “How long it’s took” could be present or past.

The receptionist coughed. “Can I help you?” she asked with
an expression that suggested she had little intention of helping.

“Ahh, right, sorry.” Penny gathered her thoughts. The
receptionist didn’t look likely to indulge in gossip. She set about trying to
persuade her that she really did need an appointment.

She was directed to the waiting area and warned she’d
potentially have to sit there for an hour or so. She didn’t mind. She had an
awful lot to think about.

And her next move needed planning.

Penny wondered if her house was beginning to smell. She
might not be able to tell, if she got used to it. She hadn’t done much
housework since the ankle sprain, and she hadn’t left the cottage either. After
all, the doctor had recommended that she rest. Now it was Wednesday, and Kali
was practically eating the wallpaper off the walls with cooped-up craziness, and
Penny knew exactly how she felt.

She lay on the sofa and flicked through the television
channels. It all seemed to be house auctions, women’s makeovers, and some
terrible documentary about barnacles. Doing nothing was both tiring and
frustrating. Her eyelids began to droop again. The less she did, the more she
wanted to sleep. Was she actually beginning to hibernate? Could humans even do
that?

Kali began barking a fraction of a second before the knock
at the door. Penny startled awake and sat up, unsure whether she had heard the
knock or dreamed it. It came again, and she made her way to answer it. Her
ankle was sore but the three days of inactivity were helping a lot to ease the
pain and accelerate the healing process.

It was Drew, and she was pleased to see him, in spite of
his dire warnings against asking questions. “Hi there,” he said cheerfully. “I
just thought I’d call round to see how you were getting on with the head-collar
and Kali.”

Kali was alternating between pressing herself against him
and sitting back, squashing herself down on her haunches and making a strange
bubbling throaty noise – the same over-excited reaction she showed just before
getting fed. Drew bent and petted her, and noticed the bandage around Penny’s
ankle. She was in loose linen trousers and was barefoot.

“Oh – are you all right?” He straightened up, his fingers
lightly resting on Kali’s head. She grumbled happily.

“Yes,” Penny replied. “This, oh, it’s nothing. I sprained
my ankle at the weekend, that’s all. Come in.”

“Of course, sorry. You need to sit down.”

“It’s not so bad now,” she said over her shoulder as she
led him into the kitchen, defaulting to the usual ‘I have a visitor so I must
put the kettle on’ routine. “I can walk better on it today.”

“When did you do it? Down, Kali!”

“On Sunday. I went out with the ramblers.”

“Sunday! My goodness. How have you been managing? Have you
seen a doctor?”

“Yes, on Monday, and that was very interesting. I’ve got a
lot of questions about…” but she tailed off as she caught his guarded expression,
and remembered that he had advised her to stay clear of the investigation.

But it was no use. She was bubbling with speculation and
she’d been housebound for three day with nothing to occupy her thoughts.

Drew knelt to give Kali more fuss. “I’m glad you saw a
doctor. What about Kali? How have you been walking her? I know there’s a dog
walking service in Lincoln. Did they come out?”

“Is there? I didn’t think of that. Huh. It will be six
weeks before they can connect my internet, apparently. An engineer has to come
out and put a phone line in. Who on earth lives without a phone line?” Penny
poured the boiling water into two mugs. “I’ve let her out into the back garden
to do her business and I’ve been throwing a ball for her, but I haven’t been able
to take her out. On the plus side, though, I’ve taught her some tricks. And
I’ve been learning from some books I got from the library.”

Drew looked furious. “She hasn’t had a walk for three days?
That’s insane. That’s awful. The poor dog! Why didn’t you call me?” He rose to
his feet and Penny felt suddenly guilty.

“I didn’t have your number…” she stammered.

“You could have … oh. I see. Okay.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s all right. You’re totally correct. She does need
some exercise.”

“Well, that’s settled.” He beamed. “After my cuppa, I’ll
take her for a walk. No arguing.”

“I won’t argue. That would be lovely, thank you.”

“And here’s my number in case you do need it.” He pulled
out an envelope from his pocket and tore off a corner, and she passed him a pen
to scribble with. “It must be strange, being here all alone in a new place.”

“I like it. Or I did like it, up until when I needed people
and realised I didn’t have anyone.”

“Your London friends not beating a path to your door,
then?”

“I don’t think I have any London friends,” she confessed
sadly. “It’s been really obvious that the one person I made any emotional
impression on was Francine. No one else has stayed in touch at all. You
remember…?”

“Yes, she came to see you.”

“Yeah.” She laughed. “Everyone else, though, has stayed
away. No phone calls, nothing. I suppose it would have been different if I’d
moved to the Cotswolds. It’s trendy there.”

“Why didn’t you move to somewhere trendy? I mean, much as I
love Lincolnshire, why come here? People generally … don’t.”

Penny thought it was a strange question coming from someone
so obviously rooted in the area. “I came here partly because I wanted to be far
away from anywhere else. And partly because the sale of my London home was
pretty good but I would only have been able to afford a shed in the Cotswolds,
but here, I bought this cottage and my motorbike and I can live nicely for at
least a little while.”

“I see. So, you said the appointment at the doctor’s was
interesting…”

She drank her tea while she tried to come up with something
to say. She failed.

Drew smiled thinly. “You’re still poking into that business
with David Hart, aren’t you? I saw in the paper that it said he’d been
electrocuted and the death was being treated as suspicious. So everyone’s
talking about it.”

“Yes,” she said, all her fire and passion coming back in a
rush. He had brought the subject up, so she decided it was fair game again. She
sat forward, wrapping her hands around her mug. “Can you confirm for me
something about Mary, David’s girlfriend? Did she use to work at the surgery?”

Drew tipped his head back and studied the ceiling. “Yes,
she did. But not for very long, I don’t think. I don’t go to the doctor much.
All the healthy outdoor air, you see. I’m of hardy stock.”

She didn’t look at his wide shoulders. “Right, that’s fine,
I just wanted to know that it was the same Mary. She seems to have a reputation
for not sticking at jobs. What is up with her?”

“Nothing.” He lowered his gaze. “Nothing as far as I know,
but I don’t know her.”

“I thought everyone knew everyone in a small town,” she
teased. “You said you knew my business. You knew about Francine coming to
stay.”

Drew shrugged again. “Yes and no. Honestly, I try to stay
out of the gossipy stuff. It’s easier.”

No, she thought, I reckon you’ve been taking an interest in
… me. Huh. She pushed the thought aside. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome but it
wasn’t quite comfortable. She said, “So you won’t have heard that Mary’s car has
been repossessed? She’s having money troubles, apparently.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, with a look of empathy on his
face. “I know what it’s like. She’s not on your list of suspects, is she?”

“Not at the top, no.”

“Who is at the top? Not that I am interested or condone
your meddling in any way,” he added hastily, with a forced frown that was
utterly unconvincing.

Aha! She thought in triumph. You’re snared, just like me.
And everyone else. “I don’t know. Edwin Montgomery was a suspect but I have
heard that he has been questioned and the police have completely taken him out
of their enquiries. And that’s very odd because he does have a history of
sabotage
and
he’s an electrician
and
he has a motive because he
hates farmers and he particularly hated David Hart. So…”

“He must have an alibi then. They will have a time of death
by now. I trust the police to sort it out. As should you.”

“I wish I could get my hands on the facts that the police
have!” she said in frustration.

“Why? Do you think you could do better? They have expertise
and technology and experience.”

“Yes, but I have an enquiring mind,” she insisted. “That
counts for something, right?”

She could tell from the expression on his face that it
counted for very little. He said, “Don’t let it get to you.”