Ann Cleeves - Murder in My Backyard

“They said that I led him on,” she cried suddenly, “ that he lost his career in the army because of me. But it’s not true. When I told him I was leaving David, I didn’t expect him to be so silly.”

Why do they talk to me like this? Ramsay thought. I have no real right to know.

“David was your husband?” he asked.

“Yes, and when I left him, I had to come back here. There was nowhere else to go. I couldn’t stay in the house. David’s a keeper on the Rutherford estate and it was a tied cottage.”

“I don’t quite understand,” he said, “where Charlie Elliot comes in.”

They turned into the churchyard, and the long grass was stiff with frost.

“Charlie and I grew up together,” she said. “We were in the same class at school, got the bus together everyday. I liked him. He was a good friend. Then, when we were sixteen, he started taking me out. Into Otterbridge to the pictures, to youth-club dances. I thought it was just a bit of fun. Other girls had boyfriends. I had Charlie.”

“But he took it more seriously?”

“Yes,” she said. “ On my eighteenth birthday when we were both still in school, he asked me to marry him.”

They had come to the wrought-iron gate into the Tower garden. Ramsay lifted the latch and pulled it open to allow her to walk through. But she stood facing him, wanting him to understand.

“I was young,” she said. “I was flattered. I liked him. I didn’t think it would do any harm. When I agreed to get engaged, I never really thought it would end up in marriage. It was an excuse for a party, for being the centre of attention for a while. You know what young girls are like. It made me special.”

Ramsay thought that he did not know at all what young girls were like and shut the gate behind her. He was not wearing gloves and the cold metal of the catch stung his hands as he struggled to fasten it.

“You changed your mind,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “I changed my mind. Charlie became so serious and intense. He wanted me to spend all my time with him. He was only taking one A-level and some re-sits, but I was doing three A-levels. I wanted to go into nursing. He seemed to think that wasn’t important. Not compared with spending time with him.”

“How long did the engagement last?” he asked.

“Three months,” she said. “Then one evening we had a furious argument and I broke it off. He left school and went to join the army.” She paused. “I was quite proud of that,” she said bitterly. “It seemed very romantic.”

They reached the car. Ramsay opened the passenger door for her, then got in and started the engine so that he could switch on the heater. All of the windows were covered in ice.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“I passed my exams and started training to be a nurse,” she said. “I saw Charlie sometimes when he was home on leave. He was always polite but very distant. I thought he’d made his gesture and the whole thing was over. I met David at a young farmers’ dance and started going out with him, I got pregnant and we got married.” She shrugged. “ That time I thought I’d better see the thing through. On the day before the wedding I had a letter from Charlie saying I was making a terrible mistake and I’d never be happy.”

“And were you?”

“Oh,” she said. “ For a while.”

“When did you leave your husband?”

“About a year ago,” she said. “ Charlie was home on leave and I bumped into him in the Castle. It was good to have someone to talk to, flattering, I suppose, to have him so attentive. Towards the end of the marriage David had hardly noticed me. I told Charlie that I’d left David and that the boys and I were staying at Mum and Dad’s. But that’s all. I didn’t give him any encouragement. He walked me home and gave me a good-night kiss, but I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just pleased we were friends again.”

The heater was beginning to clear the ice from the windscreen and they could see the bulk of the Tower in the moonlight.

“What happened then?”

“Charlie left the army,” she said. “ It was awful. Like a nightmare. He wrote to his father to tell him and Fred Elliot turned up at our house accusing me of leading him on. “You’ve broken his heart once,” he said. “Now you’re meaning to do it again.” His wife had recently died and everything seemed to upset him. I didn’t know what to say or do. I wrote to Charlie telling him there was no point coming home, that I hadn’t changed my mind, but it didn’t do any good.”

“Did you persuade your father to give him a job?” Ramsay asked.

“No,” she said quickly. “ I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. My father thought that if he offered Charlie a job, there would be a reconciliation between the families. You don’t understand what it’s like in a place like this. The village was split in two, with half supporting me and half supporting Charlie. My father’s idea was to bring everyone together again.”

“But it didn’t work?”

“It would have done,” she said, “if Charlie hadn’t been such a bloody fool.” She began to cry. “ He’s worn me out. I don’t know if I can stand it any longer. I think he’s mad.”

“What does he do?” Ramsay asked.

“It started with presents – flowers and chocolates and bottles of wine. At first I took them back to him. But that only made him angry. He’s got a terrible temper. So now I keep them and take them into the old Cottage Hospital in Otterbridge. Then he tried phoning me at home, sometimes dozens of times in an evening, begging me to see him and talk to him. More recently, he’s taken to following me around the village. When I wake up he’s out on the street looking up at me, and he waits outside the pub at closing time and follows me home. I don’t know what to do. It’s frightening. He’s not normal now. He’s completely obsessed.” She paused. “It’s affecting the whole family,” she said. “ My dad tried to talk to Charlie about it one night after work. There was a fight. Can you imagine it? My father brawling in the street. He must have caught Charlie off balance because Charlie hit his head on the pavement and knocked himself out. Then, of course, Dad felt guilty and that made things worse.”

“But Charlie’s still working at the garage. Even after the fight?”

“Yes,” she said bitterly. “ Dad’s a great one for martyrdom. He wants to show the village he knows what’s right even if he finds it hell.”

“Have you talked to the police about this?”

“No,” she said. “ How could I? Dad assaulted Charlie. They might charge him. The village think it’s all my fault that Charlie’s in that state. How would it look if I reported him to the police, too? Besides, I’d started to hope that soon it would all be over. He’d become obsessed with the housing development on the Tower meadow. I thought if he became involved with that, he might forget about me. And it seemed to be working. The night Mrs. Parry died was the first evening for a month when he wasn’t there to follow me home after work.”

Ramsay looked at her sharply, wondering if the words were malicious, if she was accusing Elliot of having played a part in Mrs. Parry’s murder. But she spoke quite innocently. She was simply relieved that she had been allowed to walk home alone.

“Have you seen Charlie today?” he asked.

“He was outside the house at lunchtime when I went to work,” she said. “But I’ve not seen him this evening. Do you think it might all be coming to an end?”

“I don’t know,” Ramsay said. “But I’d better take you home. Your parents will be wondering where you are.”

He drove slowly down the drive towards the Otterbridge Road. At the junction he had to brake sharply, then skidded because a man stepped out suddenly into his headlights. The man stood for a moment in the road, shielding his eyes from the glare of the lamps with his hands, shocked, it seemed, to see a car coming down the Tower drive. It was only when he turned without apology and walked on up the road that Ramsay recognised him as the red-faced man from the pub.