‘The girl who works for me. She’s the one who found him.Terrible, she is. Won’t go to clean on her own anymore – me or her mum have to go with her, poor love – and with twelve holiday lets to do on a Saturday, it’s a complete nightmare.’
‘It must have been very upsetting for her,’ said Thelma drily.
‘It was more than that,’ said Jax darkly. The three looked at her, wondering what could possibly be more upsetting than coming across a corpse.
‘Itwasa heart attack?’ asked Pat bluntly.
‘Oh, yeah.’ Jax nodded vigorously. ‘Nev had been having all murmurs and stuff even when we was together. Used to worry me half to death. But you know him – he wouldn’t be told.’
‘What was it that upset Chelsey so much?’ asked Thelma.
‘Apart from finding a body on the sofa,’ said Pat.
‘Two things.’ Jax lowered her voice and looked round at the three. ‘Nev – he weren’t one for getting scared or owt. He wasn’t sensitive, not like me.’ Here Pat hurriedly converted a snort into a cough. ‘But according to Chelse, the look on his face …terrible,it was.’ There was a pause when no one – not even Pat – thought it appropriate to point out that a sudden heart attack was unlikely to result in an expression of calm serenity.
‘And the other thing?’ prompted Thelma.
‘Excuse me.’ The voice that broke in was both abrupt and rather harsh. They looked round to see the advancing black-purple figure of the second Mrs Hilton.
‘Ffion.’ The ponytail gave an agitated flick. ‘I want to introduce you to Thelma, Pat and Liz – they used to work with me. They all wanted to pay their respects like.’ Jax spoke in a nervous rush, and all at once the three realised the reason for their discreet relocation.
‘We’re so sorry for your loss,’ said Thelma earnestly, if not strictly truthfully.
Ffion nodded perfunctorily, was that a gleam of antipathy in those hard features?
‘Does any of you own a white Fiat?’ she said. ‘Only it’s blocking in the hearse.’
Liz’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘I amsosorry,’ she said, sounding as guilty as if she’d managed to stumble into the grave itself. She stiffened and emitted two sharp, horrified sneezes.
‘It’s okay,’ said Ffion grimly. ‘Only if you could shift it.’
‘I’m going now,’ said Liz, fumbling for more tissues as she set off as rapidly as she could in her black court shoes, followed at a distance by the second Mrs Hilton.
‘So go on,’ said Pat. ‘What was the second thing?’
‘We really can’t talk here.’ Jax frowned after the retreating figure. ‘Youaregoing to the fuddle, aren’t you?’
Both Thelma and Pat instantly and emphatically shook their heads; both began evoking appointments and commitments, but Jax spoke quickly over them. ‘Don’t apologise, it’s fine,’ she said (making both of them feel the need to say sorry). ‘I’ll come across and see you. You do still meet at the garden centre on Thursdays? I’ll see you all then.’
‘But what was it?’ said Pat. ‘What happened?’
Jax shook her head. ‘Something inside the holiday let where they found him,’ she said. ‘Something really weird.’
She looked round uneasily as if expecting the second Mrs Hilton to make a reappearance.
‘In what respect weird?’ asked Thelma.
‘The police thought nothing of it, and neither did Ffion – but then she never sets foot in the place. But I know that holiday let, inside out.’
‘And there was something wrong there?’ Thelma prompted.
Jax nodded, eyes still roaming around the churchyard. ‘It’s been done out right tasteful,’ she said. ‘I mean one thing Nev did have was an eye for colour schemes. And the living room – where they found him – it’s been done out in greys: grey sofa, grey walls, all set off by a crimson carpet.’
‘So?’ said Pat.
‘It was one of the walls,’ said Jax. ‘When Chelse went in and found Nev, she noticed someone had gone andpaintedit.’
‘Like graffiti?’ said Pat.
