‘Whoever she was, she must have been asking him to stop doing something,’ said Liz. ‘Have pity—’
‘For pity’s sake,’ said Pat. ‘That’s not asking anyone to stop anything—’
‘It’s how the words were spoken that doesn’t match,’ said Thelma stirring her mango juice. ‘Judy Bestall was quite clear the tone was angry – shouting. You don’t generally beg for mercy in angry tones – and you’d tend to say, “for pity’s sake” if you were feeling exasperated, not angry.’ She sighed and took a sip of her drink. ‘And of course there is always the possibility it was Ffion shouting at him after all.’
‘Well, we’ve got somewhere,’ said Pat. She thought for a second. ‘I could always email Chris Canne at Lodestone. See if he knows anything about Neville. Maybe that’s why he was looking so uneasy at the funeral.’
‘And I could talk to Becky Clegg at St Barnabus,’ said Liz. ‘Sheused to work with Neville when he was a head teacher over in Northallerton.’
‘That’s if we want to,’ said Thelma calmly. The three looked at each other. There was a lot to be said for just letting the whole matter slip into that vast catalogue of the strange and unexplained.
‘It’s that lass, that Chelsey,’ said Liz eventually. She faced her friends, resolutely dismissing any thoughts of a scary woman on horseback. ‘It’s her I keep thinking of – her feeling like it was her fault in some way.’
‘Exactly as Ms Shally expected you’d feel,’ said Pat tartly.
Thelma stiffened. ‘Talking of.’
They all followed her glance. Yet again the brassy ponytail was threading its way through the slicing beams of sun, atop an ensemble of emerald green and a glittery gold sun visor.
‘I tried ringing but you weren’t picking up,’ Jax announced, sitting herself down. ‘All day I’ve been saying to myself: I wonder how they got on in Hollinby yesterday. So’ – she looked expectantly round – ‘how did you get on in Hollinby?’
Liz and Pat watched as Thelma gave a brief but circumspect account of their trip to the Hollinby Quernhow Village Festival. All three were feeling (yet again) ambushed, and at the same time instinctively reluctant to share much of their thinking. There was the unvoiced certainty that, however vague their theories, there was a pretty good chance they’d end up plastered across Jax’s various social media platforms within the hour.
As Thelma finished, Jax nodded. ‘I said to myself:Jax, there must’ve been something going off.You don’t just drop down dead like that. And there’s Ffion screaming in his face.’
‘If itwasFfion,’ said Pat.
‘Who else would it have been?’ said Jax. There was a slightly loaded pause and Thelma put a protective hand on the green notebook. ‘I’ve always said to myself,I’ve an odd feeling about you,Miss Ffion,’ said Jax. She sighed a long deep sigh. ‘I don’t mind telling you, this whole thing has proper shook me up.’
‘How’s Chelsey?’ asked Pat in a pointed tone, which was totally lost on Jax. The brassy ponytail shook glumly. ‘Terrible,’ she said. ‘A right state. And there’s me having to do all me Friday and Saturday holiday lets on my Jack Jones.’
‘Has the lass seen anyone?’ ask Liz worriedly.
Jax rolled her eyes. ‘She finally gets in to see the doctor – but you wouldn’t believe the waiting list for counselling. Nearly a year! I said she should go private but she’s not got that sort of money. No, the only thing that’ll put Chelsey’s mind at rest is if we can tell her exactly what happened to poor Nev.’
She looked at the three friends. The three friends looked back.
‘What had you in mind?’ said Thelma noncommittally.
‘What someone needs to do,’ said Jax, ‘is physically go into that flat. See if there’s anything they can find out. Something to take to the police to prove Ffion was lying to them.’
There was a pointed pause, marked by a suppressed sneeze from Liz.
‘What about the people staying there?’ asked Pat. ‘They won’t be happy to have us all traipsing in.’
Jax shook her head. ‘She’s cancelled all the holiday lets, so the place is just sitting there empty. And, anyroad, I have to do a clean in there – the place hasn’t been touched since they found Nev. I just need someone to come in with me.’ She looked at them appealingly, ponytail bent in supplication. ‘I’m like Chelse, I just can’t face going in there on my own.’
‘I’m going to St Barnabus to talk to Becky Hunter,’ said Liz firmly.
‘And I’m going to Lodestone to talk to Chris Canne,’ said Pat equally firmly.
Jax turned her stare on Thelma. ‘Come on then, Thelma,’ she said. ‘How about it?’
Chapter Seven
Monday 14th July
Text sent from St Barnabus Lodestone Primary Academy to parents:
