Ann Purser - The Hangman’s Row Enquiry

“Hello? Who is that?” Rose Budd answered, sounding worried. Sadie explained, and Rose said she had to get home to the family, but was sure Mr. Theo would be fine by himself until Beattie returned. He was in a very good mood, she said, and giggled. Sadie was puzzled, but much more worried about her car, and so thanked Rose and ended the call.

The AA man arrived an hour later. Once there, he fixed the tyre swiftly, and they were once more on their way. Beattie had relapsed into a sullen silence, and Sadie was heartily relieved when she drove round into the stable yard and helped Beattie out of the car.

As she drove back down the long drive, Sadie reflected on her passenger’s failure to say thank you for the lift. After all, Sadie had been hijacked. Ah well, she thought, that’ll teach her to cadge lifts in future. She smiled to herself. It was obvious the poor woman had not been missed. She remembered the giggle. Had Rose Budd and Mr. Roussel been up to no good? Well, good luck to them, Sadie thought, and as she unpacked her shopping she looked forward to a restoring cup of tea.

BEATTIE ENTERED THE Hall and went straight to her kitchen. Everything in order. She lifted the kettle and filled it, wondering how she was going to explain the delay to Mr. Theo. He would want to know what made her come back with Sadie Broomfield instead of catching the usual bus. It would have to be a sudden illness, she decided. After all, she had nearly fainted this morning, but she was not sure he had even noticed. She heard his footsteps on the tiled hallway, and looked apprehensively at the door.

“Ah, there you are!” he said. “Did you have a good time? Met a friend, did you?” He was beaming, and she was so surprised that for once she could think of nothing to say.

“Well, you’re home now, and needing a cup of tea, I’m sure. No, no,” he added, as she asked if he would like tea, though it was a little late. “No, I have been well looked after,” he said, and chuckled. “I thought I’d have a stroll in the park. Should have a dog again. We must get a dog, Beattie,” he said, and disappeared.

A stroll in the park? A dog? A nasty, snappy little terrier, no doubt. Beattie sat down at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. What was going on? The wonderful security she had made for herself at the Hall was falling apart. A tear fell on the scrubbed surface, and she rubbed it away quickly. This would not do. It would take more than a young woman with no conscience to defeat Beatrice Beatty. For a start, she thought, the Budd family were entirely reliant on her for their cushy cottage in Hangman’s Row, and Rose’s husband took his orders from her.

Then she remembered Theo’s sudden decision to have a word with David Budd this morning. Was this start of a new regime?

No matter, she said to herself. I’ll fight them all. I’ve fought my way out of tricky situations before, and I’ll do it again. There are one or two things I could mention to Mr. Theo that might make him think twice about undermining my position.

Feeling more cheerful, she went upstairs to draw curtains in the rooms he would be using later this evening. As she entered his bedroom, she paused. She sniffed, and walked over to the bed. It was rumpled. Not significantly, just the counterpane not quite straight, not as smooth as she had left it this morning. She sniffed again. She had smelled that perfume before, but could not remember where. She perched on the edge of the bed, overcome with dizziness once more.

DEIRDRE SAT AT her dressing table, looking at her reflection. She saw a round face, almost free of aging lines, with cheeks suffused with a healthy colour, and a mouth that had always turned up at the corners, whether she was smiling or not. Her careful coiffure was not as perfect as when she set out that afternoon, but still the curls caught the light and shone a reddish gold, just as her hairdresser had promised.

“Not bad,” she said aloud, and then burst out laughing all alone in her luxury bedroom. She looked back to the time before Ivy had come to Springfields. Her life had been exemplary, duty bound and boring as hell. Not that she had any idea if hell was boring or not. Perhaps she would go to hell, after this afternoon! This sent her off into further peals of laughter. Who would have thought Theo would still be so good at it?

Her telephone rang. She knew it would be Ivy, wanting to know how she had got on with gleaning information about Beattie from Theo. She sobered up. The fact was that their fun and games had been so sustained-and they both in middle age!-that only half an hour or so had been left for serious conversation. She had tried, but Theo was not listening. He was much more interested in arranging their next meeting, and in telling her how she had changed everything and he could only thank God that she had come back into his life in time.

“Deirdre? Are you there?” Ivy’s voice was sharp, and Deirdre quaked.

“Hello, Ivy. How are you?”

“What d’you mean, how am I? I’m exactly the same as I was not many hours ago. I’m ringing to see if you got anything interesting out of Mr. Theo. Did he remember Beattie in the early days? How she got the job? References? Where she came from, an’ all that?”

Deirdre sighed. “Ivy dear,” she said. “I have just had a call from an old lady in town who I visit from time to time. I’m a social services volunteer, you know. She wants me to help her straightaway. I must be off now. We’ll meet on Monday as usual, I hope? Gus will still be in Springfields, I expect. I’ll tell all then,” she added.

Uncrossing her fingers, she prayed for forgiveness and humming cheerfully went downstairs. She looked at the clock in the hall, and saw that it was little drinkies time. “It’s not that I’ve forgotten you, Bert,” she said aloud. She knew what he would say fondly. A leopardess cannot change her spots.

KATYA HAD ENJOYED her walk with Miss Beasley this afternoon. They had gone in the opposite direction from the church, and come out of the village into a tunnel of trees. Katya had asked Ivy if she would like to turn around now, but Ivy said she was quite capable of going farther and so they had strolled through the tunnel and out into a sunny lane leading to a farm. A tractor and trailer were parked in the nearby field, and as they watched, a young man heaved sacks of feed out of the trailer and tipped it out for the flock of sheep gathered around him.

This pastoral scene had made Katya nostalgic for holidays she had spent with her grandparents in rural Poland. Ivy, seeing her expression, had greeted the young farmer with a cheerful good afternoon, hoping he would come over for a word.

He had introduced himself as David Budd, and asked Katya pleasantly where she had come from and how long she would be staying. While they stood talking, his mobile had rung, and answering it, he had said that yes, he could be home by the time the baby-minder had to go.

He apologised to them, and said his wife Rose was up at the Hall, and had been kept later than usual. “She keeps the old man company while the housekeeper is at market, you know,” he said. “Seems the old duck has been delayed, and Rose has to stay on a bit longer.” He had excused himself, saying he must get on his way, but invited Katya to drop in anytime and meet Rose and the best toddler in the world, in other words, his son Simon.

This encounter had, as Ivy hoped, cheered up Katya, and they returned to Springfields in good spirits. After her abortive call to Deirdre, Ivy remembered Rose’s call to her husband, and wondered what had happened to delay Beattie. Then she decided that so long as it was delay, and the housekeeper had not returned early, all would have been well. In any case, Deirdre had sounded happy. Odd, but happy.