The Strangling on the Stage (6 page)

BOOK: The Strangling on the Stage
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‘Well, is there someone who could come and be with you? A family member? A neighbour?'

‘No, there's no one. Anyway, I don't want people knowing about what's happened. If Mike ever got wind it, it would be an absolute disaster.'

‘Don't you think you should tell your husband?'

‘No, he wouldn't understand.'

‘But surely, if you're unhappy enough to slit your wrists – even if you didn't do it very efficiently – then your husband ought to know.'

‘No, he mustn't.'

‘So when he comes back next Friday, how are you going to explain the big scar on your wrist?'

‘Oh, I've worked that out. I'll say I cut it when I was opening a tin of dog food.'

‘And will he believe you?'

‘It would never occur to Mike not to believe me.'

‘I still think you should tell him what happened.'

‘No, Mike's no good with that sort of stuff. It'd confuse him – and upset him.'

‘If he's the cause of your unhappiness, then perhaps he needs to be upset.'

‘I didn't say he was the cause of it.'

‘No. But you haven't said what else is the cause, so I'm just having to make conjectures based on the very small amount of information you have given me.'

‘You have no right to make conjectures about my life. I'm going to go.'

‘Hester, I'll tell you why I have a right to make conjectures about your life. Because I found you in your car having just cut your wrist. That means, whether you like it or not, I have that information. What I do with that information is up to me. A lot of people would have just rung for an ambulance – or even the police – straight away, regardless of whether you wanted them to or not. Carole and I didn't do that. We brought you back here and tidied you up. And I'm quite happy for no one else to know what happened …
so long as you persuade me that you're not about to do the same thing again
.'

‘What – you're blackmailing me into talking to you?'

‘I don't like your choice of word, but if that's what you want to call it, fine. I just want to feel reassured about your mental state.' Hester Winstone was silent. ‘Anyway, suppose Carole and I hadn't come into the car park just then …? Would you have cut your wrists some more? Did you want to be discovered there by someone in SADOS?'

The slightest of reactions from the woman suggested Jude might have touched a nerve there. ‘I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't very in control,' Hester mumbled, acknowledging for the first time since Carole had left the two women together that there was something wrong.

‘Look, I don't know you,' said Jude. ‘I know nothing about your life apart from what you've told me in the last few minutes, but for someone to cut their wrist – however ineffectively – suggests a very deep unhappiness.'

‘Maybe,' Hester Winstone conceded.

‘Whether that's caused by the state of your marriage, or your boys being away at boarding school or some recent bereavement or a long-term depressive condition or the menopause, I don't know. But if you do want to confide in someone, I have the advantages of not knowing your social circle, so nothing you say will go further than these four walls. I also promise not to be judgemental. And enough people have said it to me that I think I can confidently state I'm a good listener. Not to mention an experienced healer. So if you do want to tell me anything … well, the ball's in your court.'

Hester twisted her hands together in confusion. ‘It's tempting.'

‘Then why not give into temptation?'

After a moment the reply came. ‘No, I can't. Sorry.'

‘Well,' said Jude, ‘shall I tell you what I, as an impartial observer of what I saw happen in the Cricketers, think may have caused the sudden deterioration of your mood?'

‘You can try. But we were only in the same group of people for a couple of minutes, so you can't have seen much.'

‘I had been aware of you in the bar before we were actually introduced. I noticed your body language.'

‘God, I didn't know I had any body language.'

‘Oh, you did. Hard thing to avoid, body language.'

‘And what was mine saying?'

‘It was saying you were feeling neglected …'

‘Oh?'

‘Or possibly rejected.'

‘Really? By whom?'

‘Neville Prideaux.'

‘Oh God.' Hester Winstone's hand shot up to her mouth. ‘Was it that obvious? Does that mean everyone in SADOS knows?'

‘I wouldn't worry too much about that. From the impression I got of those I met this evening, they're all too preoccupied with themselves to notice what's going on with other people. It was easier for me to observe things as an outsider.'

‘So what exactly did you observe? From my body language?'

‘You seemed to be trying to engage Neville's attention. He seemed to be very deliberately avoiding eye contact with you, and constantly moving to other groups in the pub, so that you wouldn't get a moment alone with him.'

Hester Winstone was silent. Tears were beginning to well up in her hazel eyes.

‘But, as I say, I'm sure nobody else noticed,' Jude reassured her. ‘It's just, being introduced to a group of people for the first time, you see things in a detached way … you know, before you get to know any of them.'

Hester nodded, hoping, but not convinced, that what Jude had said was true.

‘So you've got a bit of a history with Neville Prideaux, have you?'

‘A very brief history. I hadn't met him a month ago.'

‘But you did meet him during the time that your husband's been in New Zealand?'

‘Yes,' the woman said wretchedly.

‘And he came on to you?'

‘It wasn't as obvious as that. Not like Ritchie. He … Neville … he kind of took me seriously. At least appeared to take me seriously.'

‘You mentioned Ritchie. So he came on to you, did he?'

‘Well …'

‘He came on to me the minute I was introduced to him,' said Jude.

‘Yes, he does that to everyone.' Hester Winstone coloured. ‘He's a very attractive man.'

‘He certainly thinks he is.'

‘But he really is,' Hester insisted, and Jude was forced to admit it was true. Though Ritchie Good's chat-up line had been crass beyond words, Jude had still felt a tug of attraction towards him.

She banished such thoughts from her mind and said, ‘One thing I don't quite get is that today was the first rehearsal for
The Devil's Disciple
…?'

‘Yes.'

‘… and it's only in the last few weeks that both Ritchie and Neville have come on to you …?'

‘Well, as I say, with Neville it wasn't so much “coming on”.'

‘All right. But how did you come to be involved in SADOS before this production started rehearsing?'

‘Ah well, it was the end of the panto …'

‘Oh?'

‘SADOS always do their pantomime at the end of January. And it was round then that Mike went off to New Zealand … and I was kind of at a loose end, so I got in touch with SADOS to see if there was anything I could do to help out, and they needed some people for front of house during the panto, so that's how I became involved.'

‘And were Ritchie and Neville both in the show?'

‘Not acting, no. Ritchie just came to see one performance and then he kind of chatted me up in the Cricketers afterwards.'

‘And did you mind him chatting you up?'

‘No, I was flattered … just having someone taking some notice of me.'

Jude recognized this as another comment on the state of Hester's marriage, but didn't pursue it. Instead she asked, ‘And what about Neville?'

‘He wasn't acting in the panto, but he'd written the lyrics for the songs, so he was around quite a lot during the run.'

‘And you kind of “got together”?'

Hester Winstone blushed furiously. ‘One evening after the show we'd had a few in the Cricketers, and my car was being serviced, so Neville offered to give me a lift home, and I invited him in for a drink and … I don't think anything would have happened if we hadn't been drinking.'

‘And did it happen again?'

‘No, just the once. And then suddenly Neville seemed to lose interest. Didn't reply to my texts or calls.'

‘And you were hurt because you loved him?'

‘I don't know about love. Maybe I convinced myself at the time that was the reason. I don't know. I just felt dreadful. I can't think why I let it happen.'

‘You were lonely.'

‘Yes, maybe, but that's no excuse, is it? And in my head I've gone through so many scenarios about how I would tell Mike, but that was assuming that Neville still wanted me and … I don't know. I'm just so confused.'

‘From what you say, it sounds as if you've never been unfaithful before.'

‘Good Lord, no.' Hester sounded appalled by the very idea. ‘And I wouldn't have done, I mean, not unless I thought I actually was, at least at that moment, in love with Neville. And now I feel just so confused. And Mike's back next week, and I'll have to tell him.'

‘Why?'

‘Well, I can't not, can I?'

‘Of course you can,' Jude asserted. ‘In my view far too many people rush to tell their partners about their infidelity. In very few cases does it do any good, and in many it destroys a perfectly salvageable relationship.'

‘Do you really believe that?' And there was a spark of hope in Hester Winstone's hazel eyes.

‘I most certainly do.'

‘But when I see Mike, I'm sure I'll just blurt it out.'

‘Well, curb the instinct. Don't give him more ammunition with which to criticize you.'

‘But I haven't said he does criticize me.'

‘I extrapolated that, Hester.'

‘Oh, did you?' She sounded a little crushed. And guilty. But also reassured. Jude's recommendation that she shouldn't tell her husband about her lapse had clearly brought her comfort.

‘Oh dear, I don't know what to do.' But now Hester sounded weary rather than desperate.

‘Well, I'll tell you exactly what you're going to do. You are going to sit here while I open a bottle of wine and pour you a drink. Then I'll cook us some supper. Then I think you should probably stay here the night.'

Hester grimaced. ‘Love to, but I've got to get back for the dogs. If they aren't let out … well, you can imagine what will happen …'

‘I think I can. What about the drink and the supper?'

The woman grinned as she replied, ‘That'd be wonderful.'

‘And when you go back home, you'll be all right, will you?'

‘Yes, I'll be fine,' said Hester Winstone.

And Jude believed her.

SIX

T
he following morning over coffee at High Tor Jude gave Carole an edited version of her conversation with Hester Winstone. Though the woman wasn't a client, their time together had been almost like a therapy session, so Jude kept the details of the infidelity to herself. She just said that Hester was clearly in a bad state, but talking things through had, she hoped, helped. It would have been different if she and Carole were working on a case together. Then she would have recounted everything that had passed between them. But there was no crime involved here, just a cry for help from a very unhappy woman.

Carole, needless to say, couldn't wait to express her views of the SADOS members. ‘Really! Who do they think they are? When I was growing up, we had a word for people like that, and it was “show-offs”. Can't they see how ridiculous they appear?'

Jude shrugged. ‘They're just doing something they enjoy. I don't see there's much harm in it.'

‘Well, I'd hate to be involved with a group like that.'

‘No problem. No one was rushing to make you join them, were they?'

‘No,' Carole conceded.

‘Have you ever done any acting?'

‘No.' There was a shudder at the very idea.

‘Not even at school?'

‘Well, I was in a Nativity Play.'

‘What part?'

Carole coloured at the recollection as she said, ‘I was the Ox.'

‘One of the great parts,' said Jude with a grin.

‘I've never been so embarrassed in my life. And I think my parents were at least as embarrassed as I was. The Seddons have never been people for putting their heads above the parapet.'

‘No, I can believe that,' said Jude.

It was later that afternoon in Woodside Cottage, while she was reading a book about kinesiology written by a friend of hers, that Jude's phone rang. The male voice at the other end was rich, confident and vaguely familiar.

‘Is that Jude?'

‘Yes.'

‘Oh, good, I'm glad I got the right number.'

‘Mm.' She still couldn't place him.

‘We met yesterday evening in the Cricketers.'

‘Oh yes?'

‘My name's Ritchie Good.'

‘Ah. And to what do I owe the honour of this call?'

‘I just wanted to talk to you.'

‘Well, you seem to have achieved your wish.'

‘Mm.' He let a silence dangle between them. ‘You made quite an impression on me.'

‘I'm flattered. Slightly surprised, because we can't have spoken for more than a couple of minutes.'

‘It often doesn't take long.'

Jude groaned. ‘That's almost as corny as your “Where have you been hiding all my life” line.'

‘At least you remember it.'

‘Only for its cheesiness.'

‘Touché. Anyway, I was wondering if we could meet for a drink or something.'

‘A drink might be all right. I'm not so sure about the “something”.'

‘Let's start with a drink then …'

Jude didn't really know why she was playing along with him. If she hadn't already decided that Ritchie Good was nothing but an ego on legs, this phone conversation would have convinced her. And yet here she was, responding in kind to his rather elaborate innuendo. Maybe it was just that it had been a long time since she'd flirted with a man. She was still smarting after the end of a pretty serious relationship with a man called Piers Targett, so wasn't looking for anything beyond casual. But having a drink with an attractive bullshitter … well, there might be worse ways of spending an idle hour.

BOOK: The Strangling on the Stage
6.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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