Dawn was already seated at a table in the pub when Blythe went in. ‘Hi, Dawn. Nice to see you again. What can I get you to drink?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ She pointed at her coffee cup. ‘I’ve only just got this.’
Blythe went to the bar and ordered a coffee. Arthur was in his usual seat. ‘Who’s the stranger in town?’ he asked.
‘You’d not believe me if I told you,’ said Blythe, feeling that whilst she was fond of Arthur she didn’t want rumours circulating about Murray. It didn’t seem fair when he was no longer around to defend himself.
Arthur raised one eyebrow. ‘Now I’m intrigued,’ he said.
‘I’ll bring your coffee over,’ said Sarvan, and Blythe was happy to escape Arthur’s gaze.
‘How was your journey?’ asked Blythe, taking the seat opposite Dawn.
‘The roads were busy and it struck me how many times Dad must have done that same trip. I really didn’t know him very well at all.’ Her voice cracked with emotion and she blew her nose. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘It’s no trouble. How are you?’ asked Blythe, unsure what else to say.
‘I’m good, thanks. I’ve been thinking about Dad and his two homes a lot since we spoke.’
‘Have you come to any conclusions?’ asked Blythe.
‘An affair really is the only explanation. That was what it must have been. He found some other woman but couldn’t bring himself to divorce Mum. Was there someone special in his life here?’
‘No. Not romantically at least. He had lots of friends but not a partner.’ Dawn’s assumption didn’t sit neatly with the kindly older gentleman Blythe had grown fond of. But why else would he be living two separate lives? It made no sense to her.
‘I know this puts you in a really awkward position and I’ve been thinking a lot about it. If Dad did have a lady friend here in Holly Cross I’m okay with it. I want to know all about his life here and I know you’re going to try to protect whoever it is, but you don’t need to. I’m not angry. Whoever she is she must have been very special to Dad and he was never anything but a loving husband to my mum. And it was really tough for him when he couldn’t cope with her at home anymore and she had to go into residential care.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Blythe. ‘How long ago did that happen?’
Dawn pouted with thought. ‘Eight or maybe nine years before she died. So about fourteen years ago.’
‘Murray moved into the village thirteen years ago,’ said Blythe. At least that was the last time the cottage had been sold – Blythe had been doing some investigating herself. Sarvan quietly put down Blythe’s coffee and she mouthed a thank you.
‘That fits,’ said Dawn. ‘Dad had always been a keen twitcher but he became more immersed in it after Mum was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. He was brilliant with her. Always patient and kind. And when he was home, he visited her every day. He always went straight to the nursing home when he came back from his birdwatching trips. He did all he could for her and he was there at the end.’
‘That sounds like the Murray I knew,’ said Blythe. ‘He was kindness to a fault.’
Dawn sniffed. ‘Look at me getting all teary. Tell me about him. What he was like when he lived this part of his life.’
She fixed Blythe with interested eyes. Blythe’s mind whizzed through her memories of Murray. ‘We often chatted. I’d pop over and we’d sit in his garden with a cuppa and have a bit of a gossip about village life and things in general. Although now I realise I did most of the chatting whilst he listened.’
‘That sounds like Dad,’ said Dawn with a wan smile. ‘Please go on.’
‘He took in Turpin the cat and was very patient with him. At first, Turpin lived at the bottom of the garden in the log store and freaked out if you went to touch him. It was Murray who slowly coaxed him until he’d let you stroke him. Murray was always on hand to help with whatever was happening in the village. He threw himself into the events – we’ve really missed him this Christmas.’ Blythe swallowed down a lump. Murray had been such a presence at all the activities but especially at Christmas. ‘He was on the HCCC.’ Dawn gave her a confused look. ‘Holly Cross Christmas Committee.’
‘Crumbs, he had immersed himself into life in the village. But you’ve not told me who he was close to.’
Blythe twisted her lips. ‘I’m honestly not keeping anything from you, Dawn. I don’t think he was in a relationship with anyone here. Murray was close to pretty much everyone but nobody specifically. If that makes sense.’
‘If that was the case then why didn’t he ever tell me? Why keep his life here a secret?’
‘I’m sorry, I have no idea,’ said Blythe. She stared into her coffee. ‘But there is something you should know. The cottage where he lived. It wasn’t rented.’ She saw confusion on Dawn’s face. ‘I sold it. The sale went through in September.’
‘Are you saying Dad owned it?’
‘That’s where things become a bit unclear. The sale was all dealt with via a solicitor. I just assumed they were acting for Murray’s whole estate. But as you knew nothing about it that clearly wasn’t the case.’
‘There was just his flat in Hale. He sold the house I grew up in a few years back. Said it was too big for him with Mum not there but I knew it was really because he needed the money to pay for Mum’s nursing home. What happened to the things in the cottage like furniture and knick-knacks. I assume he had some?’
