Phyllis waved a finger. ‘But it is, you see, because the village is like a big family. We all look out for each other. Murray was one of us.’
‘Doesn’t give you the right to gossip about him,’ said Sam, and Phyllis pulled her chin in fast.
Blythe didn’t like his tone with Phyllis and stepped in. ‘It’s not that people are gossiping. They’re just concerned.’
Sam turned his frown on Blythe. ‘But Murray’s dead. Any discussions about him now aren’t because you care about his wellbeing.’
She felt put on the spot. ‘I can see where you’re coming from but it’s not meant maliciously. It’s friendly concern really.’
‘I disagree.’ He wiped his mouth roughly with a serviette. ‘The only thing I despise more than Christmas and lying is gossip.’ Phyllis was watching the exchange. ‘I should probably go,’ he said.
‘You’re suddenly not much fun at all,’ said Blythe.
Sam shook his head, picked up his coat and left.
Phyllis sighed heavily as she patted Blythe’s arm. ‘Don’t worry, dear. These actors are all rather highly strung.’
17
1stNovember
It was the first of November and Blythe had decided to feed Turpin en route to an evening property viewing and consequently was later than usual. She pulled up outside Sam’s just as he was coming out of the front door in running kit. He was braving the breezy November day in a muscle top and running shorts. Blythe couldn’t help but notice the muscle definition that had been previously hidden under his clothes. Sam baulked at seeing her and it irked her. She was done with apologising but Leonora was becoming increasingly intimidating with every HCCC meeting that Sam failed to attend and she needed to get her off her back.
Blythe pasted on her best smile and got out of the car. ‘Hi, Sam, you going for a run?’ she asked, sticking to a neutral subject.
Sam scanned his attire. Gave a look of mock surprise. ‘It would appear so.’ He pulled on a head torch and Blythe had to stifle a chuckle.
‘Great Dalek impression.’ He glared at her so she returned the chat to his jog. ‘Going far?’
He checked his watch. ‘Probably.’ Which she took to mean he wasnowbecause he was going to make sure he was going to be out long enough to ensure she had left.
‘Well, have a good run,’ she said and she gave him a pretend punch on the arm. She had no idea why she did that. They certainly weren’t that pally. Sam stared at his arm where she’d touched him like he wanted to rip it off and throw it away. She walked past him and down the side of the cottage, only braving a quick look over her shoulder when she was almost out of view. Sam shook his head, put in his earbuds and set off at an impressive pace. She turned around and almost tripped over Turpin who was sitting at her feet scowling at her. If he had a watch she was sure he’d be tapping it in disgust at the late timing of his dinner.
‘Sorry,’ she said automatically and followed him round to the back of the cottage. She let herself in the utility and noted that the door from the utility into the rest of the house was now permanently locked. Sam clearly didn’t trust her not to snoop around his home. Little did he know she had a key for that door too, not that she’d use it. Grey clouds were making it seem later than it was but at the thought of rain she fed Turpin inside and she hopped up to sit on the worktop while he ate. The cat always bolted down his food like he feared it was going to be taken away so she didn’t have to wait long for him to finish. He sat next to the bowl and yowled for more. ‘Sorry, that’s your lot,’ she said.
While she washed up the bowl she watched the droplets of rain smatter the windowpane. Poor Turpin. She didn’t like the idea of him being out in bad weather. The utility doors each had a cat flap in them – one to the outside and one into the kitchen; both of them were fixed closed. Now it was starting to get colder would Sam really object to Turpin sheltering in the utility room? She looked around. She couldn’t see that there was much he could damage. There also wasn’t anything cosy for him to sleep on, but it was still better than being in the garden sheltering from the elements.
Blythe eventually managed to dislodge the switch on the old cat flap in the outer door so that it would open in both directions and allow Turpin to come and go as he pleased. ‘This is a cat flap. Basically, it’s your own personal door. It works like this.’ She pushed her hand through it and Turpin bobbed down to look out of it. ‘You need to push it with… what am I doing? Come here,’ she said, picking him up and unceremoniously popping him through it head first. She opened it and peered outside. Turpin wasn’t looking impressed. ‘You just need to do the same to come back in,’ she told him. ‘But you’ll have to work that out for yourself because I have to go.’ She grabbed her keys, opened the back door to leave and Turpin shot back inside. Blythe shrugged, locked up and headed off for her viewing.
Blythe rarely did evening viewings, and Ludo had drummed into them about personal safety, but she was meeting a young couple she had taken on viewings before so despite it being dark and the house a little remote she was sure that she wasn’t putting herself in any danger. She let herself into the house, hung up her coat and started switching on the lights. Evening wasn’t the best time to show off a house, especially an unoccupied one, but lots of light would definitely help. There was minimal heating left on to avoid any frozen pipes should the weather take a turn for the worse but it was still chilly. Blythe turned the dial on the thermostat and put the radiator in the kitchen onto max to give it a chance to warm up before her clients arrived.
The property was a probate sale and thankfully they hadn’t cleared the stuff out as yet, which made it easier for clients to picture themselves living there even if the furniture wasn’t to their taste. Blythe took off her coat and pulled a tin from her bag and placed it on the kitchen worktop. She carried a couple of scented candles with her precisely for days like this. She popped off the lid and lit the coffee candle and within moments the aroma was spreading gently. She dropped toilet blocks into the toilets, had a quick spray of air freshener in the other rooms and waited in the kitchen.
The clients were suitably impressed with the property and instead of being put off by the things that needed work, they were excited at the prospect of putting their own stamp on things. Blythe ended the tour in the kitchen as it was the most up to date and now also the warmest room in the house. ‘Feel free to have a look around on your own. There’s no rush.’ Although her stomach was rumbling as it was way past her dinner time.
‘Can we have a look in the back garden?’ asked the male client.
‘Sure,’ said Blythe,lthough this wasn’t the property’s best feature, not least because it had been reclaimed by nature. She unlocked the back door and waved an arm to activate the security light, which lit it for all of five seconds before going off again.
‘It’s quite small,’ he said, tensing a muscle in his cheek. These sorts of gestures had Blythe on red alert and she automatically jumped to counter any negative vibes.
‘Actually, it’s a very good size. It’s a little unloved right now but it has huge potential. Let me show you.’ She lead the way outside, waving her arms wildly to get the security light to come on. It obliged for the requisite five seconds before going off again. How annoying. It had started drizzling so she needed to give them a quick tour and get them back in the warm as fast as possible, especially as she’d not got her coat on. Blythe switched on the torch on her phone and headed off down the garden with the clients following her. They reached the corner which, if there had been some lighting, would have given the best perspective of the garden.
‘Wait here and I’ll set the light off again so you can see for yourself what a great size it is.’ She began walking backwards with her hand in the air, hoping she wouldn’t have to go too far before the light came back on. ‘It won’t take much to make – whoa!’ Blythe had stepped backwards expecting there to be more solid ground but instead there was nothing until her foot hit water. It was too late to save herself. She toppled backwards in the dark, landing with a splash. At which point the security light came on as if to highlight her error. The clients came rushing over to find Blythe sitting in a shallow pond.
Thankfully they were lovely and were concerned for Blythe and her now very cold and soggy state, which she brushed away as nothing, like the professional she was. But the good thing was they were quite pleased that the garden had a pond. They’d gone off with lots to think about whilst Blythe had stripped off in the kitchen, bundled her wet clothes into a carrier bag, snuffed out the candle and returned the heating controls to how she’d found them.
She put her coat on and checked the coast was clear. It was now chucking it down with rain, which was good because it meant there was nobody about. She locked up and dashed to her car wearing only underwear, her coat and a pair of very squelchy shoes.
