‘Our vicar wasn’t quite as fanciable as thoseGrantchesterones on the TV, but I didn’t hold that against him. He was just weak, I guess. He wanted the teenagers to like him, so they’d come to church. It didn’t work. And the fire was what triggered all the other bad things. It was while you were living in Gibraltar with husband number two, Anthea. That’s why you don’t remember. Someone burnt down the shed where all the gardening equipment for the churchyard was stored.’
Winnie got up to clear away their plates. Her expression was thoughtful. ‘It’s all coming back to me now,’ she said as she came back from the kitchen with a tray loaded with a dish of banana fritters, a carton of rum and raisin ice cream and three bowls. ‘It was hushed up at the time. The vicar said he didn’t want a fuss, and that the fire was probably caused by somebody flicking a stray cigarette end over the wall.’
Beryl shook her head. ‘That was the party line,’ she said. ‘The head at the school where the kids all went didn’t really want there to be a full investigation and the police couldn’t do much if the vicar wasn’t going to press charges if anyone was caught so it all went quiet. We all suspected that there was something he’d stored in the shed that he didn’t want anyone to find out about. Whatever the reason for the cover-up, Patrick was never the same after that and the Prescotts left soon afterwards.’
Anthea was definitely interested now. ‘So, tell us more,’ she said. ‘What do you think was going on in the churchyard after dark? What was your boy so upset about? Who do you think caused the fire?’
‘And more to the point, why?’ said Winnie. ‘Was it just a prank that went wrong?’
‘I thought it was, to begin with, but looking back, I’m not so sure. And then soon after that, there was the awful camping trip in Wales.’ Beryl guessed by the look on her face that Anthea was going to ask for more details, so she pressed on quickly. ‘At the time, Eddie and me were just intent on getting Patrick on an even keel again. He went off to university and we were so proud. We thought he’d put it all behind him. But then he…’
‘The poor lad got sick, and it was all over very quickly,’ finished Winnie, when she could see that Beryl was unable to say any more. There was a short silence while Beryl pulled herself together.
‘Yes, and when Patrick died, the light went out of our world and we forgot all about everything else,’ Beryl said huskily. ‘And now… Venetia’s back and I want to know exactly what happened around that time. I owe it to my son. I’ve got to put these thoughts to rest. I’m sure she was involved, and not in a good way. Ladies… I don’t care what it takes, I mean to find out.’
9
After the evening with Rick, which involved a very decent curry and a trawl through his old vinyl collection, Vee struggled to get up the next morning. She lay in bed listening to the gushing of the shower backed up with a very passable rendition of ‘Born to be Wild’ and couldn’t remember when she’d had such a good night’s sleep.
Rick was obviously not averse to being clean. So far, he’d always smelt pleasantly of some sort of zingy shower gel and a delicate spritz of aftershave, which was a welcome contrast to Nigel. Her new landlord had also blitzed the kitchen before they went to bed and even remembered to put out the recycling for the next morning’s collection. Vee knew she’d landed on her feet, but the thought of all the work that was going to need doing at Dragonfly Cottage was incredibly daunting.
Raising her arms in a big stretch, Vee yawned noisily and dragged herself out from under the duvet. A fresh boiler suit courtesy of Rick was waiting for her on the chair by the window, as orange as the previous one, and the filthy version was already whirling round in the washing machine along with Rick’s clothes from the day before. The singing stopped abruptly, and Vee heard the bathroom door open, so she gave Rick a few minutes to get back to his room and then hurried to take her turn in the blissfully hot water of the power shower.
Less than an hour later they were back in the van, having eaten toast and marmalade at speed. ‘We’ll call at the big DIY place on the edge of Meadowthorpe first,’ said Rick. ‘I’ve made a list of the basics we need to start us off. You can borrow my decorating gear and my bucket and mop and so on to save a bit of cash. I loaded them into the van while you were getting ready. After that we’ll make a very quick stop at a supermarket to grab something for lunch and then we’ll do a drop off at the charity shop, okay?’
Vee flexed her aching shoulders and nodded gratefully. She knew she’d given Rick a highly inflated rundown of her physical prowess yesterday. It was a while since any of her gardening experiences and as for the patio-laying job, that had been a very small area and she’d been helped by Nigel when he was still trying to impress her. Now, stiffness was setting in, and she wasn’t sure if she had the stamina for another full day of grafting in the cottage. But it had to be done, and there was no way she could afford to pay Rick to do the whole lot himself.
The DIY store was vast and full of items that Rick seemed to think were vital, but he was very restrained in the end and didn’t overspend. Laden with paint and a variety of other commodities, they set off again, dropped the furniture at a local charity shop and were soon pulling up outside Dragonfly Cottage.
Vee glanced across at Rick as he killed the engine. ‘Where do we start?’ she asked wearily. ‘I feel as if anything I do will be a drop in the ocean at the moment.’
‘Well, we can’t do a thing until all the stinking carpets and that horrible, cracked lino is history,’ said Rick. ‘And that’s a mucky job. Are you up for it?’
She nodded and climbed out of the van, going to the back doors to help unload their purchases, but Rick held up a hand. ‘Don’t bring anything in yet, we need to clear the decks first. Jed’s coming back with another skip after lunch, and he’ll get rid of it all. Before you say anything, remember that he owes me a couple of favours. Let’s get to it. All we’ll want is my radio, toolbox, gloves and masks for the moment.’
Five minutes later, both Vee and Rick had baseball caps, thick gloves and masks on. The radio was playing hits from the eighties, which were already making Vee want to dance, tired as she was. She realised that without the music, her morale would be at rock bottom and blessed Rick’s forethought in providing it.
‘Come on, let’s get stuck in,’ said Rick. He began to pull up the hall carpet. ‘You get the brush and dustpan and a bin bag, Vee. You can follow me round picking up any underlay and sweeping up the bits. It’s so old it’ll disintegrate as we go. Everything’s full of dust.’ He coughed and sneezed. ‘Urgh, it’s getting to me already.’
They worked together at the same steady pace as yesterday, sometimes singing along to the music, stopping for regular swigs from Rick’s fresh supplies of bottled water and both having several bouts of tempestuous sneezing and coughing. Although Vee felt grubbier than she’d been in her entire life, there was something therapeutic about this total destruction of the remnants of the past. ‘A clean sweep!’ she shouted at one point and they both took these words up as a kind of battle cry, whenever they struggled with a particularly tough area.
Soon, rolls of chopped-up carpet and bags of debris were piled up in the hall, leaving just enough room to squeeze past when Jed rang the doorbell at two o’clock. Exhausted but jubilant, Vee let him in and between them they lugged all the rubbish they’d collected outside and flung it into the new skip.
‘Cheers, mate,’ Rick said, slapping his friend on the back just as he left. ‘We couldn’t have managed without you. Well, we could, I guess, but it would have been a right faff to keep driving to the tip.’
In the lull after Jed departed, Vee and Rick sank down onto the now-cleared living room floor. The windows were open to let in a warm breeze and the bad smell had almost gone. Outside, birds were singing, and sunbeams were lighting up the dust motes that danced in the air. Vee thought about washing the floor next but was so shattered that she couldn’t bring herself to make another start.
‘Hungry?’ asked Rick. ‘I’ll get the picnic. Stay there, I’ll be back soon.’
Vee couldn’t have moved if she tried. She leaned back against the wall and viewed her property. It was a pleasing room now that everything that had been cluttering it was gone. A tiled fireplace with a hideous gas fire was on one wall. That was going to have to go. She didn’t see any reason why the old grate and surround couldn’t be ripped out and the chimney opened up. As a child, Vee had loved watching the flames flicker in the grate. Her parents were big fans of a roaring coal and log fire as soon as there was a chill in the air, and their daughters had both been trained from an early age to roll and twist newspaper tightly to make the ‘paper sticks’ her dad insisted on as firelighters.
Rick came back into the room carrying a supermarket bag. ‘I’ve washed my hands. You’d better do the same before we eat. You’re a health hazard at the moment,’ he said, grinning down at Vee.
She rolled over onto her knees and got to her feet, groaning as she straightened up. ‘This is saving us a whole lot of money in gym memberships,’ she said. ‘I must have used muscles that haven’t been exercised for years.’
‘But Venetia Prescott, you told me you were used to hard work,’ said Rick. Vee turned to look at him and he gazed back innocently.
‘I think we both know I was exaggerating,’ she said, laughing. ‘But I’m getting there. I’ll do my bit. Teamwork, that’s what this is. We’re doing a great job. I feel as if I’ve known you for ages.’
