Unfinished Portrait (18 page)

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Authors: Anthea Fraser

BOOK: Unfinished Portrait
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They'd phoned the hospital straight after breakfast, and learned that Sarah had spent a comfortable night and would be discharged after the doctors' rounds at about eleven.
‘Another cup of coffee, then,' Avril said.
‘I should ring the locksmith straight away,' Guy advised. ‘If he can come this morning, fine; we don't both need to collect her. In any case, the police have knocked off, now the house is occupied, and it shouldn't be left empty till the locks have been changed.'
‘Though actually,' Avril mused, refilling his cup, ‘since the attack happened by the shops and he certainly wouldn't have followed her home, he won't know where she lives.'
‘There could have been something identifying her in the bag,' Guy pointed out. ‘A letter addressed to her, or something. It's not worth taking the risk.'
Avril nodded reluctantly, and, taking out the
Yellow Pages
, made the call. They promised to send someone later that morning.
‘Anyway, it's better you should go alone,' she said. ‘It will give you some private time together.'
‘She seems to have dropped her hostility towards you, though, wouldn't you say?'
Avril smiled ruefully. ‘Only in the heat of the moment, because I'd helped her. It will probably come back!'
‘Have faith!' he said.
The locksmith arrived soon after Guy had left for the hospital. It had been agreed that, since Sarah had only the front door key in her possession, only that one needed changing.
While he worked, Avril made up the spare room bed, picked some flowers from the garden for Sarah's dressing table, and planned the weekend meals. She had catered only for herself, as Sarah usually spent the weekends with Clive – who, Avril thought belatedly, ought to be told of the assault – why hadn't he walked her home? – though he'd no doubt have heard of it at school, which they'd phoned first thing to explain her absence. The receptionist had asked if she'd be back on Monday, but Guy couldn't tell her; it would depend on what he learned at the hospital.
The locksmith had finished, and, having supplied her with a set of three new keys, gone on his way. The dining room table was laid for lunch and a fish pie was cooking in the oven. Now the house could be safely locked, she could have dashed to the shops for more provisions, but Guy and Sarah might be back any minute, so it must wait till after lunch. At least, she thought, she could make that delayed phone call to Rona.
‘Mum!' Rona greeted her. ‘I've been meaning to phone you. How are things?'
‘A little hectic, actually,' Avril replied, and told her of Sarah's attack.
‘But that's awful!' Rona exclaimed. ‘Is she all right?'
‘I hope so; they're supposed to be discharging her today. Guy's gone to collect her, but they're not back yet. In the meantime, I've had to get a new lock for the front door. I'll give you a key next time I see you.'
‘And . . . is Guy staying the weekend, or taking Sarah home with him?'
‘They're both staying here.' Avril drew a breath. ‘He'll be sleeping in your room, but . . . he didn't last night.'
‘Mum, I'm so glad,' Rona said warmly.
‘Are you? Really?'
‘Of course. It's quite serious, then? We wondered, after that weekend—'
‘I cut Lindsey off, I know. It was silly, but I was still getting used to the idea myself. And yes, I think it is serious. I'd meant to phone this evening, when you'd both be together, but Max would also be there, and it might have been awkward.'
Rona laughed. ‘He's not a prude, you know! He'll be as pleased as I am, and so will Linz.'
‘You must all get to know each other, but I don't want to rush things, and at the moment, of course, Guy can only think of Sarah.'
‘Do you want me to pass both bits of news to Lindsey? She's going home tomorrow, did you know?'
‘No, I didn't. The flat's finished then?'
‘Yes; she phoned half an hour ago, to say the bed's been delivered. That was the last outstanding item.'
‘I can't wait to see it!'
Rona didn't comment. She doubted that her mother would be included in what Lindsey had referred to as ‘the official opening,' since that would also involve inviting Tom and Catherine, rather than the intimate little dinner Rona guessed her twin was planning.
Fortunately, Avril ended the conversation by exclaiming, ‘Here's Guy's car now – I'll have to go. Love to you all, and I'll be in touch later.'
Their return had been delayed because the police were still with Sarah when Guy arrived at the hospital. They'd produced a laptop with a series of staring faces, and asked if she could pick out any of them. She couldn't. The attack had been gone over in detail, the contents of her briefcase noted, and a stop put on her credit cards.
It was Guy who had relayed all this; Sarah herself was still pale and subdued, though the gauze bandage was gone and those on her face were neater.
‘They think she got the cuts when she fell,' Guy added. ‘There were shards of glass in some of them, and a broken milk bottle was found at the scene. The police think it had been smashed deliberately, to use as a weapon, but thank God that didn't happen.'
‘Was there anything confidential on your laptop or mobile?' Avril asked anxiously, as they sat down to their belated lunch.
‘The mobile was Pay as You Go,' Sarah replied, ‘and my credit needed topping up, so I wish him joy of that. It listed my friends' numbers, but they're not exactly secret. And the laptop should be protected by its password, though there's nothing really sensitive on it either, and, thank God, it's all backed up. All things considered, it could have been a lot worse.'
She retired to bed for an hour after lunch, Avril went out to do her shopping, and Guy dozed over his newspaper. He, too, had advised his office he'd be unavailable today.
After the evening meal, Sarah excused herself. ‘A good night's sleep will put me right,' she assured them. Then, in the doorway, she paused, adding with a half-smile, ‘And please don't sleep in separate rooms on my account. I'm a big girl now.'
She was gone before either of them could think of a reply.
TEN
L
indsey arrived back that evening with a case of six bottles of wine.
‘To thank you for having me,' she said.
‘Linz, there was no need for that! Good heavens—'
‘It's the least I can do. I've just been to the flat with Nina and Nicole, and it's great! Like a completely new home, modern, but comfortable, and with zingy colours everywhere! I can't wait for you to see it!'
‘We'll see it tomorrow, surely, when we help unload your things,' Rona pointed out, but her sister shook her head.
‘Actually, no. I'd be glad of your help to load the car, but I want to unload it slowly myself. Half the fun will be deciding where to put everything, and slotting it in place. Then, once I'm satisfied with it, I'll fix that dinner with you and Dominic.'
‘Mum's hoping to see it soon, too,' Rona said. ‘She phoned at lunchtime. Sarah was mugged last night on the way back from school, and Mum had to go with her to the hospital.'
Max and Lindsey expressed concern. ‘Was she seriously hurt?' ‘Is she OK?'
‘Guy had gone to collect her and bring her home. She was unconscious for a while, which was why the hospital kept her in, but I think she's more or less all right.'
Rona paused, glancing at her sister. ‘She also apologized for cutting you short when you rang, but as we thought, things have moved on between her and Guy. I asked if it was serious, and she thinks it is.'
‘Well, that's great news!' Max said with satisfaction.
Lindsey was nodding. ‘I thought as much. She was trying to play it down, but I could see she was really interested. Let's just hope nothing goes wrong.'
So the next morning Max and Rona helped carry the boxes and cases down to Lindsey's car and pile them in the boot.
‘Let us know how you get on,' Rona said, as Lindsey gave her a hug.
‘Of course! And thank you both so much, for putting up with me for two weeks!'
‘Putting you up, not putting up with you,' Max corrected. ‘It's been a pleasure.' And, in truth, it had gone much better than he'd feared. There'd been no flare-up of tension between them.
‘I'll miss her,' Rona said, as they surveyed the empty-looking studio. Lindsey had stripped the bed, taking the sheets down to the washing machine, and Max now dismantled it and stood it back in its corner, while Rona unplugged the lamp, ready for its return to the study.
‘Wasted space, really,' she remarked, looking about her.
‘What do you suggest we do? Take in a lodger?'
‘No, it's great, really, to have somewhere to stack what we're not using. No doubt in a week or two it'll look as though we never cleared it.'
The post had arrived by the time they reached the hall, bringing a letter postmarked Buckford, which Rona guessed was from the Pynes. She opened it apprehensively.
‘Oh, thank goodness!' she exclaimed. ‘They're willing to see me – that's a relief.'
‘And who might “they” be?' Max enquired.
‘Chloë's parents. They suggest Tuesday afternoon, and will expect me unless they hear to the contrary.'
‘Well, for God's sake treat them gently,' Max said. ‘They'll no doubt be blaming either Nathan or Elspeth for her death – probably both – and this will bring it all back again.'
Rona nodded. ‘I'll ring Naomi, and see if Tuesday's convenient for going back to the house.'
During the weekend, Clive Gregory called round twice to see Sarah, bearing bunches of flowers. Although, as sports master, he'd not been required to attend the Parents' Evening, he still blamed himself for not escorting her home.
Guy returned to Stokely on Sunday evening, and Avril waited, somewhat anxiously, to see if Sarah's new friendliness continued in her father's absence. After her parting comment on Friday, it had seemed pointless to stick to their separate-room intention. Sarah hadn't mentioned it again, and, after a slightly embarrassed breakfast on Saturday, they'd relaxed. It wasn't, in fact, till Avril brought in her breakfast on Monday – Sarah having insisted, against both Avril and her father's advice – on returning to school – that she indirectly referred to it.
‘It was very good of you to dish out the TLC on Friday,' she said, her eyes on her plate, ‘especially after I've been such a cow. I really appreciated it.'
Slightly taken aback, Avril murmured, ‘I only did what anyone would in the circumstances.'
‘Phone an ambulance, yes; I'm not so sure about holding my hand and continuing to talk to me, even when I couldn't respond. I'm . . . glad Dad's found someone like you. He deserves to.'
Avril felt a lump in her throat. ‘Thank you,' she managed to say.
Sarah looked up with a grin. ‘Which is not to say I'll be sweetness and light from now on, so make the most of it!'
Avril laughed, grateful for the change of mood. ‘Thanks for the warning!' she said.
When Rona phoned Naomi on Monday morning, it transpired that she was busy the next day.
‘No problem, though,' she added. ‘Tuesday's Mary Strong's day, so she'll show you round. I'll tell her to expect you about eleven.'
Which, Rona thought with satisfaction, would kill two birds with one stone, since she'd been planning to interview the cleaner.
‘Is there anywhere I shouldn't go?' she asked.
‘Good Lord, no; it's only a house, after all, and Mary will be there. It's hardly an invasion of privacy,' Naomi added with a touch of sarcasm.
So, having left Gus with Max, Rona set off once more for Buckford, wondering what she'd have learned by the time she returned.
‘Hirsute' was the adjective that best described Mary Strong. She was a short, square woman, with straight dark hair, very thick eyebrows and the hint of a moustache. The arms beneath her rolled-up sleeves were muscular and thatched with black hair.
‘Mrs H said you were coming,' she greeted Rona, stepping to one side to allow her to enter. ‘Wanting to have a look round, she said.'
‘I'd also be grateful for a word with you, Mrs Strong,' Rona said tactfully. ‘I believe you've worked for Miss Wilding for a long time?'
‘Bless you, yes. Like family, she said I was.'
‘It must have been a shock, when she went off like that.'
The woman flashed her a calculating glance. ‘Yes and no,' she said.
Rona's interest quickened. ‘You knew she was going?'
‘Let's say I wasn't as surprised as the rest of 'em.'
‘How was that?'
‘She'd been talking of it for some time – vague, like. Said she'd like to get away, go on one of them Sabbath things.'
‘Sab . . .? Oh, sabbatical, you mean?'
‘That's it.'
So, despite the impression Naomi had given, the disappearance wasn't totally unpremeditated. ‘Mrs Harris might have told you I'm writing about Miss Wilding, so anything you can tell me about her will be very helpful.' Rona hesitated. ‘Did she seem happy to you, before she went?'
‘Happier than she had been, and that's a fact. It took her an age to get over Miss Chloë.'
‘I'm sure.'
‘She started going to London, regular like, and that perked her up. I was coming in three days a week then, and she'd say, “If I'm not here on Monday, Mary, just let yourself in, same as always.”'

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