'By the way, I have to go to the solicitor tomorrow, early. Hopefully, there is something that prevents me interfering with the planning process. Then the farmer gets his blasted windmills and I don’t have to annoy the county set.'
'Is that likely?'
'No idea? The family has been farming that patch for generations. Who knows what was agreed in seventeen fifty something and how easily it can be applied to wind farms?'
'Why can’t you lie about the legal position and tell your posh chums you can’t block it?'
'Because Larissa insists on accompanying me.'
I looked blank, then the penny dropped.
'Larissa Gormley-Stuart intends to stake out the solicitor’s office, to make sure you don’t try to deceive the county set. She suspects you of some fifth column activity.'
'And with good reason. I’d love to let Giles Ferguson have his windmills.'
A plan formed in my mind. I was willing to form a Vera-support
The rug begins to slip from Millie's self confidence. How the folly of youth can get out of control.
Day 9. Tuesday. Five o’ clock. I heard my phone vibrate. ‘Shit and derision,’ I mumbled. Through half-opened eyes I saw little sister spring out of bed and grab the phone. 'Give it here,' I barked, but it emerged as a croak. I was on a loser. 'Let me read it or I’ll tell Dad you swore and had a wet dream about Charley boy.' 'Girls can’t have wet dreams, you berk.' 'Well you had something. What are wet dreams?' 'Give me my phone and I’ll tell you.' She was already flicking through my mails. 'I’m not falling for that one. I want to know who texts you at five in the morning.' She paused and then giggled. 'There’s a thing. It’s Charley lover-boy and he says, ‘assume S at 9. Leave L 8. be in bushes opposite drive for 7.30, with camera ready. I have to work and will miss the fun, so make some good pics. Love Charley.’' We had to go through the obligatory
Day 10. Wednesday.'So what did you buy in Lowestoft? Anything pretty?''What did you do with your day off, you little rascal. Larissa was indeed held up by a gate getting in the way, but you forgot to mention you were immediately on the spot, offering help.''Oriolus oriolus, Vera, sitting on her gate. Sonya, my little sister, eleven you know, said she heard one, very typical fluty, challenging ‘whoareyou-oo,’ call and we went to photograph it, very shy too, so without much hope, and there it was sitting on the Gormley-Stuart Gate. Just as Sonya swung the camera up, Larissa jumps in her car, fiddles with something and starts to drive at the gate like a thing possessed, still attending to her dash paying no attention to where she was going, oblivious of the fact that the gate hadn’t opened and had black smoke pouring out the motor end.'I paused for breath. Vera
'No bird, no pictures,' I said.'You see, Ms Backhose,''Backhouse,' I interjected, but the Ms had lost its affectation. Goal to me I think.'Quite so. Whatever. Mrs Gormley-Stuart, has made a complaint to the police, that persons unknown, tampered with her gate, causing it not to open, and her to have a crash. These are very serious allegations, and after a quick forensic investigation, it seems it will be difficult to assuage her fears. Wire of some sort was used to hold the non-hinge end of the gate to the pillar - some heavy gauge wire, we think, as it is a powerful motor needed to slide back a ton of gate. We haven’t found the wire, so someone must have been quick to remove it after the evil deed.'He paused as if exhausted by his deductions.'Why are you telling me this?''You were there, within seconds.''Your chums were there within minutes. Would I have been able to find the wire among the rubble and remove it bef
Julie was not so shy about standing at another door eaves-dropping. Later she came up to my room, sat down and made an afternoon of it.'Vera said she had the video stored in a safe place, and if Larissa didn’t drop the gate issue, the police may get hold of it and then they would add dangerous driving if not driving with undue care and attention to the charge list. Larissa wanted to play the private property card, but Vera said . . .' She paused to get Vera’s words right. The sentence came a word at a time. 'Vera said, even if she was on private property, it was her intent to enter the public highway in a reckless manner, and for that the police were after her.''Wow!' was all I could manage. 'Vera said she would destroy the video!'Julie gave a mocking laugh.'Wake up, Millie. Vera will keep that for a rainy day. No woman would give up a lever as powerful as that. What video did she mean? What was on it?''No idea,' I lied.The
Day 11.Thursday. Most of the morning was to be spent arguing the merits of the wind farm. I was surprised that the Gormley-Stuart’s gate, or rather my part in it, was not mentioned. That was history as far as Vera was concerned. I think Julie had heard the conversation between Vera and Larissa, because Vera wanted her to. That way I’d find out. There is no value in having power if your underlings don’t know it. Julie and Vera were on first name terms There is a friendship there, which is not usual in country houses, between mistress and servant, and there were still Vera’s sexual preferences to evaluate. Perhaps they were sometime lovers - perhaps Vera told Julie what to say to me? I’d have to find a way of asking Vera about these mysteries in the house. That said, the list of ‘to do’ topics in the notebook was getting forever longer. I needed to address them soon, which meant finding a way of inserti
Day 12.Friday.I only just got to the pub on time. Over breakfast Sonya engaged me in a discussion on the morning that lay ahead. I could have done without it. She likes winding me up.'Everyone thinks that hunt protesters feel sorry for the fox. Why don’t you?''Do you feel sorry for the fox?''Kinda. It’s alive, has feelings. It’s a bit like a weed really.'I knew I was in for a child’s view of the persecuted in this world.'In what way is a fox like a weed?' I sighed.'A weed is any plant you don’t want to grow in your garden. We grow horseradish. We make horseradish sauce and sell it. It’s inedible unless you want your brains through your ears, but some people buy it. Horseradish isn’t a weed - to us. It is a weed to everyone else in the village because it tries to take over the world.''Where do foxes appear?'
I thought she would explain. Instead, came the change of subject.'Economic reasons to build the wind farm.''Income of about three hundred thousand a year for the land owner, who is a local man, and unless he buys a villa in the Caribbean, which I don’t think he will - Suffolk born and bred, son of the soil and all that - he will wisely spend that money within the community, preferably supporting job-creation schemes and helping local businesses prosper.''That sounds better. If only it were true.'She scribbled some notes, although everything I’d said, and a few pages besides, was on the sheets I’d given her. Finally, she drew breath.'Environmental, and don’t start on about the Niger bloody Delta. This is Suffolk, warts and all. Let’s deal with them.''You can supply local businesses with cheap power by forming your own electricity generation cooperative.''That’s brilliant. That’s why Juli
I decided that turning up at the pub, drinking a sherry and going home again, was a compromise I could deal with. She would doubtless ride.I walked home via the stables and dropped in on Sid. I had to tell her that Vera was looking for a lover. But Sid was busy reading stories and being a mother and housewife. I popped next door, to give her time to get straight, but Charley kept me busy a long time.When I finally walked home the pub was shutting. I hated walking in the gloom when strangers were around. Strangers? The village has enough of its own home grown scrumpy-head loonies. Why be scared of the visiting ones?Most of all I was scared of the hunt. That was new territory and I had never dreamt I would cross the threshold into the biggest openly flaunted symbol of plutocracy in these fair isles.I needed Sid to walk with me. What would my severest critic have said?'I am excited and flattered that Vera is so keen on my ideas for disbursing the
Day 331. Friday.Nearly a year has gone by and much has happened.My Diary. I shall never show Vera this diary and she will never ask to see it. It’s better that way. It’s behind us.Vera’s pregnancy. Nothing to report. She either got carried away with her diagnosis, she was lying for reasons only known to her, or she lost the baby. Whatever, if she wants to talk about it, she will. She doesn’t seem fussed, now she has Sid in bed and Tom and Sandra to mother.But why would she lie about that? I have my theory (as always).Charley saw himself as the surrogate father and would never have let the children down. Only by bringing Charley into the house, could she hope to get Sid and the children for herself. Trying to exclude Charley was too risky. He would certainly have been hurt after all he had done for them and may have l
'A lot has happened since then. I expected more recent thoughts.''It all has to start at that point. If we extrapolate back from all points around today’s Lower Butts, we end up at that fateful morning. That’s where big bang happened. Let’s start at that moment. We can consider distance travelled since then.''That’s fine by me,' she affirmed.'I’m going to assume that you knew Sid had lesbian leanings. I wasn’t sure. You were!'I waited for confirmation. She remained quiet so I took that as a ‘yes,’ and proceeded.'You wanted her and you wanted the children she looked after, so you hired me so that you could have contact without your scheme becoming obvious to the outside world.'Vera stiffened, sitting upright like a governess wanting to make a good impression. She still said nothing.'Then you moved the Walker children into the stable apartments - with good reason I hasten to add. Ch
'I need to explain that I’ve taken steps to legally adopt Sid, Tom and Sandra. That will give them financial security as they will qualify for a small allowance under the Ashington estate rules. The adoption was what caused me to go to the Walkers that fateful morning. I also had to broach the problem of them quitting the house. The rest you know.'No mention of blackmail this time. She’s a lousy crook. She continued, 'It’s quite likely that my visit sent Cedric over the top, but it was unintentional. Not that intent will help if I’m prosecuted.''Is that really likely?' I asked.'Probably not, but it’s in the hands of the coroner’s court.'Sid went as white as a sheet. She couldn’t cope with the idea that she could lose her protector and patron. The thought of being solely responsible for Tom and Sandra again took her back to the edge every time.I had two more questions.'Why did you exclude me fro
'Every time I deliver Lady Ashington’s evening paper, Charley is just knocking off work and on his way up to the House. It seems he doesn’t go home for a wash these days. I usually bump into him when I’m doing the morning milk and paper deliveries, coming out the house, on his way to work. But then his hair is wet so he must shower somewhere in the House. Has he shacked up with Sid?'Miss Marple, eat your heart out! That girl misses nothing and draws nearly the right conclusions.'So how long ago has this been going on?''Quite a while.''What time did he go up tonight?'She stopped and pondered a sickle moon, silhouetted against the early evening sky.'I stopped for a fag, then did the stables. About half an hour I’d say.'I’m still surprised I didn’t burst into tears, but instead I became as hard as blue steel.'That’s long enough for Charley. Georgie, if I gave you the gossip of a li
It’s a Friday. I don’t know what day anymore. Weeks have passed.I’d taken the mail to the letter box. As I walked by the bus lay-by on my way home, a car pulled up beside me. The window wound down. There was Detective Sergeant Smythe.'Just hop in please, Ms Backhouse. I need to talk to you.''Do I have to? I’m really not in the mood.''We can do this without you being in the mood,' he snapped.He released the door catch and it swung open. He wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer. I climbed in beside him and shut the door. The window whirred upwards.'How can I help you, sergeant?'There was a long pause, while he took his notebook and pencil out. His whole demeanour was that of a fifties cop like you see in TV dramas. I put my hand on the door release and moved to get out again. That concentrated his mind.'You will be aware that you owe me.'
Day 64.Friday. I’ve slept on it and decided I’ll have to ask Vera for her version of events, woman to woman, two friends together. It’s the only way to lay the ghost of Sonya’s ramblings. Should I tell her the full Sonya version? We could have a laugh about it. I didn’t. You can’t laugh about the death of two destitute alcoholics, who had once been the kindest, softest villagers - according to village lore that is. I’d never known them and only spoken to them the few times this summer. The walk up to the House after work that day was the loneliest I’d known. I didn’t notice the late summer colours forming, the swifts collecting on the electricity cables, chattering and practising their departure, the squirrels hunting nuts, and the chill in the air as the autumn mists collected over the sea. It must have all been there. It’s there every October. This was the first October that I had carried such a
Day 64.Friday. Five to seven my phone went. It was Sid. 'Vera is in a state. I’ve tried, but she screamed at me. She is so scared of what may happen. Her husband has refused to go with her, which would have silenced a lot of tongues. Take a hairbrush, make-up and a can of hairspray. Maybe she’ll let you work on her.' Seven on the dot, Vera was outside our house. It felt like the old days. I realised how much I missed her company and doing things with her, although, when I view my diary, we did precious little. The day was blustery and I had run down our long path to the front gate, with my hand on my head, holding my beret down. Once in the car, I could see how dishevelled she was. This woman wasn’t coping at any level. I took a chance with my conversation opener. 'Morning sickness?' 'Not really. I suppose Sid told you.' She pulled away towards the A12. 'It
Her message sounded very matter of fact. She was hard to understand, due to background noise and that confused me. It was five thirty in the morning on a lonely country lane in Suffolk. Where did the noise come from? My finger hovered over the delete button, but providentially Sonya came through the office door.'What’s it like to kiss a boy, Millie?'I was incandescent and finished her off as only siblings can.'Jesus Christ, Sonya. Right now, must it be?'Yes - this lad last term - before the holidays. He wanted to kiss me and now he’s going to ask...'I freaked. I shrieked.'Just go and kiss the stupid prat and find out for yourself, and shut the effing door after you!''Sorry,' she flounced, 'I was only asking.'She spun on her heel and headed back out the door.'Well it’s not exactly rhubarb-patch stuff, is it?' I shouted after her.She shut the door with a very loud and ostentatious bang th
'Sorry about the state of the transport Vera. Not exactly your BMW, is it?'Who cares? I’m so pleased to see you. I thought I would have to pay for a taxi home. How much do you know?''Almost everything, except why are they doing this to you?''Larissa! She said she saw me. No problem. She may well have done. She described what I was wearing, which was nothing like what I was wearing and when I handed my clothes over for analysis, the police thought I had destroyed what I was wearing and substituted something else - obviously because I’m trying to hide the blood.''What were you doing at the cottage at five thirty?''What do you think?''How would I know? You had a motive for wanting him out the way. He was the one person in the village who knew about your miscarriage and subsequent charade, wasn’t he?''I thought only your father knew. I regretted having told you that, the moment I‘d said it. Now you have a ho