Elly Griffiths - The House At Sea’s End

Ruth does want to, very much. She longs to escape from the university and do some real archaeology, examine a piece of evidence, feel the sun and wind on her face. But even if she leaves straight after her tutorial she still won’t be back in time to pick up Kate at five. Sandra probably wouldn’t mind keeping her an hour longer, or maybe Tatjana would go and pick her up? Tatjana’s conference has finished and she was just saying that morning that she hadn’t anything to do today. She leaves tomorrow, her bags are packed and she’s done all the touristy things in King’s Lynn and Norwich. Ruth has avoided asking Tatjana to have anything to do with Kate but surely she won’t mind this one little favour. After all, Ruth has had her to stay for nearly three weeks.

She rings Tatjana on her mobile. She hadn’t expected it to be difficult, had even expected Tatjana to interrupt and offer to get Kate, but Tatjana hears her out in silence. Ruth stammers and repeats herself. She remembers how much she hates asking for favours. When she has talked herself to a standstill, Tatjana says, ‘Let me get this straight. You want me to pick up your daughter?’

Ruth does not like the way she says ‘your daughter’.

‘Yes,’ she mutters.

‘Just because you can’t be bothered?’

‘No! It’s not that. It’s just that Craig has found something which might be interesting…’

‘Interesting but not vital. There’s no necessity for you to go today is there?’

‘No but…’

‘You expect us all to run round after you, don’t you?’ Tatjana is laughing but her voice does not sound amused. ‘Shona, me, Judy. We all have to look after your baby because you’re too busy swanning around with Detective Inspector Nelson, pretending to solve crimes. That’s not your job, Ruth. Your job is being a mother.’

‘My job is being an archaeologist.’

‘Yes, right.’ Tatjana laughs again. ‘How is that going, Ruth? How many papers have you written? Where’s that book you were always going to write? It didn’t happen, did it?’

‘I’ve been-’

‘Busy? Yes, busy having a baby without a father.’

Ruth is speechless. This is the sort of thing her mother says. Not Tatjana, who is meant to be her friend.

‘I’m sorry you feel like this,’ she says at last.

‘Yes.’ Suddenly Tatjana sounds very tired. ‘I’m sorry too. Sorry for all of us. Especially Kate.’ And she rings off.

Ruth is shaking. She looks at her phone as if it holds the key to Tatjana’s outburst. She had known that Tatjana disapproved of her asking Clara to babysit, she had known and she had understood. Who knows better than she how Tatjana feels about putting career before children? Why had she ever thought that Tatjana would be on her side? Tatjana despises her for leaving her daughter in other people’s care while she ‘swans around’ with Nelson. But she had never expected so much vitriol, so much… hatred was the only word. There was such a depth of contempt in Tatjana’s voice that Ruth feels as if she has been physically attacked. And she feels humiliated too. She had thought she was doing quite well, trying to do the famous juggling thing, trying to be a good mother and keep her job, trying not to rely on other people. But it turns out that Tatjana thinks she is relying on other people. Is that what everyone thinks about her? Shona, Judy, Cathbad, Phil? Look at Ruth pretending to be a policeman. She can’t even be bothered to look after her own baby, just dumps the poor thing with a childminder. She’s not fit to have a child.

And maybe it’s true. Hadn’t she summoned Shona to take charge of Kate while they were excavating the bodies on the beach? This, despite the fact that Shona obviously couldn’t cope and had let Kate scream herself almost sick. And even though Shona was clueless about babies, hadn’t Ruth left Kate with her again so she could go to a hen night, of all frivolous things? What sort of mother was Ruth, anyway, drinking in wine bars and clubs, coming home past midnight? And she’d left Kate with Clara, someone she barely knew, just so that she could hang around on the edge of Nelson’s investigations, lapping up vicarious glory. Seconded to the Serious Crimes Unit indeed! Who is she trying to kid? It was all Ruth’s fault that Clara had been snowed in with Kate, that Judy had to risk her life driving over the snow-covered marshes. No wonder Judy’s hardly spoken to her since. And now she’d done it again. She has obviously deeply insulted Tatjana. And why? Just so that she can go and dig up an old boat, probably just some fishing boat that ran aground in a storm.

By the time her students arrive, standing self-consciously in the open doorway, shuffling their papers, Ruth has decided to go straight home after the tutorial. She’ll stop all this ridiculous detective business. It’s no business of hers whether the wreck is that of a fire ship, part of Operation Lucifer. It’s no business of hers who murdered Archie Whitcliffe, Hugh Anselm or Dieter Eckhart. Her job, as Tatjana pointed out, is being a mother. She’d better get on with it.

It’s not one of her best tutorials. Luckily, the students do most of the work themselves, one of them reading a paper, the others discussing it. They are all mature students from China and America and they are scrupulously polite to each other. All Ruth has to do is to steer the conversation in certain directions and to correct some misconceptions about Neanderthal Man. Then they are backing out of her room, the Chinese students literally bowing.

Ruth’s phone rings. It’s Nelson.

‘Ruth, I’m off to Sea’s End House. There’s a few more questions I need to ask. What are you doing?’

‘Well, Craig, one of the field team, rang to say that they’d found a boat on the beach just beyond Broughton. They think it might be a fire ship. You know, part of the coastal defence.’

‘Are you going down to have a look at it?’

‘I might do.’

‘I’ll see you there, if so. And Ruth?’

‘What?’

‘Be careful.’

Ruth turns off the phone but, almost immediately, switches it back on to call Sandra. She’ll just have a quick look at the boat. She’ll be home by six at the latest.

Nelson had asked if he could speak to Irene on her own, but when he reaches Sea’s End House he is told by Stella that her mother-in-law is unwell and can’t be disturbed.

‘What is it?’ Nelson does not return Stella’s smile.

‘The doctor thinks it may be a small stroke.’

‘Jesus.’ Nelson is taken aback. A stroke is serious. Why aren’t they running about calling ambulances?

‘At Mother’s age these things are almost inevitable,’ says Stella, leading the way into the sitting room. ‘There’s no point her going into hospital. She might as well stay here, peacefully, in her own bed.’

There is an air of resignation about her which Nelson finds disturbing. In her own bed. People talk about dying ‘in their own bed’. He’s not going to do that. He’s going to die in a speeding car or saving some child from drowning. Peace is overrated, in his opinion.

‘How old is Irene?’

‘Ninety-three.’ Again, that calm smile.

It seems odd not to have Irene fussing about with the tea. There’s no sign of Jack or Clara either. But that suits Nelson. Stella has always struck him as the sanest one of the family.

‘Jack and Clara have taken the dogs for a long walk,’ explains Stella. ‘Jack needed to get out of the house. He’s been so worried about Irene. And Clara could do with a break too. She’s had a bad time of it recently.’

‘Was she very upset about Dieter Eckhart’s death?’

‘Very. I think she really cared about him.’

‘Was she in love with him?’