Elspeth is the first to speak. ‘Well,’ she says, fingering the pearls at her neck, ‘I’m … well, I’m shocked.’ Her face crumples in on itself and for the first time Kathryn thinks her mother looks older than her years. She’s a good actress, Kathryn will give her that.
‘What exactly happened on the last day of her employment with you?’ Holdsworth asks. ‘Was there an argument? Did she leave under a cloud?’
Elspeth catches Kathryn’s eye, then looks down at the table, studying the fine grain of the oak. ‘No,’ she says. ‘Like I said, she took her belongings and left. She didn’t tell me she was leaving.’
Holdsworth frowns and consults her notes. ‘But you said she was a live-in employee. Didn’t you notice that she was leaving the house with all her stuff?’
‘She didn’t have much,’ adds Elspeth, still avoiding eye contact. ‘Just a backpack’s worth. I was at a meeting – about the gallery I run – and she would usually have come with me but she said … she said she had a headache and wasn’t feeling well so stayed behind. She ordered me a taxi. I was only gone a few hours. When I got back she wasn’t here. I thought she might have nipped out, although there was no note. When she didn’t return I went up to her room and saw that she had taken all her belongings.’
‘And you didn’t report it?’
‘Why would I?’ Elspeth scoffs, her head shooting up, no longer avoiding Holdsworth’s gaze. ‘She was old enough to make that decision. Before she came to us she’d spent two years backpacking around South East Asia. She was a free spirit, I could see that. I always knew she wouldn’t stay long. But I liked her. So I was willing to take that risk.’ She leans forwards on her elbows, her bright blue eyes flashing. In this moment Kathryn can see how formidable her mother really is and Holdsworth shrinks back a little in her seat. ‘You have to like who you employ when they live with you, work with you, and are your constant companion. Do you see that, Detective? I wouldn’t have taken her on if I didn’tlikeher.’
They are interrupted by Aggie, who approaches the table with a tray. She places it in front of Elspeth.
‘Please help yourselves to tea,’ says Elspeth to the two detectives, as though she was the one who had gone to the effort to make it. Aggie sidles away to continue cooking,but Kathryn can tell she’s still listening. She knows Aggie will be loving this. Something to tell her husband when she goes home this evening, no doubt.
Holdsworth pours tea for herself and DC Phillips. She offers a mug to Kathryn but she hasn’t the stomach for it and shakes her head. Her mother takes one, although Kathryn notices she doesn’t drink it.
Holdsworth sips her tea and puts the mug on the table. ‘Did Jemima ever show signs of depression?’
‘No,’ Elspeth says vehemently. ‘Not at all. She was a sunny girl. A breath of fresh air. After Matilde …’
‘Ah, yes, Matilde Hansen. She died in a hit-and-run … What was it? Two months before you took on Jemima?’
Elspeth nods. ‘That’s right. I was very fond of Matilde. Very attached. She was my first companion and she became like family to me. Like a daughter.’
Like a daughter.The words stab at Kathryn’s heart.
Elspeth continues, oblivious, ‘Her family were in Denmark, you see, so she had nobody else.’
Kathryn clenches her fists at her sides. Oh, yes, her mother certainly doted on Matilde. There were times when Kathryn wondered if her mother loved Matilde more than her. Elspeth showered Matilde with gifts, like a lovesick teenager, albeit a rich one – designer shoes, beautiful dresses, the latest handbags. It had been sickening to watch Matilde blatantly taking advantage of her. Not least because the only gifts her mother has ever bestowed on Kathryn were on her birthday or at Christmas, and usually something practical, like an iron. In her mother’s eyes, it seemed Kathryn wasn’t deserving of beautiful things.
‘I see. I understand that Jemima also had no family. Is that true?’
‘She was estranged from her mother. She never mentioned her father. And, as far as I was aware, she had no siblings,’ says Elspeth, still cupping her mug.
Holdsworth taps her pen against her teeth, which instantly grates on Kathryn. She feels overly sensitive to any sound, as though all her nerves are on edge. ‘Unfortunately her mother passed away a few months before Jemima. She was an alcoholic.’
Elspeth puts her hand to her heart. ‘That’s awful. I didn’t know.’
‘But she has a brother. He wants an inquest into her death. He doesn’t believe she would take her own life.’
Elspeth sits up straighter, surprise on her face. ‘I would have said the same, but you never know what’s really going on in someone’s head, do you, Detective?’
Holdsworth murmurs her agreement. She takes another swig of her drink, then gathers up her belongings, much to Phillips’s apparent disappointment – he won’t get to finish his tea. ‘Come on, then,’ she says to the younger officer, standing up and taking her wet coat from the back of the chair. Phillips reluctantly does the same. ‘Anyway,’ she adds, ‘we’ll get out of your way. Sorry for disturbing you and for having to be the bearer of such bad news.’
Elspeth puts her mug down and stands up too, although she seems shaky on her feet and holds on to the edge of the table for support. ‘Thank you for letting us know.’
‘Sit down, Mother. I’ll show the detectives out,’ says Kathryn. She can’t get them out of the house fast enough.
‘Feel free to contact us again if you need any moreinformation,’ she says insincerely, as she ushers them to the front door. The rain is coming down heavier now and both detectives do up their coats before braving the elements. ‘But, really, we hardly knew Jemima.’
She shuts the door on them before they can say anything else.
When the police have gone and Elspeth has picked at the ham ploughman’s that Aggie has prepared (Kathryn can’t face any lunch herself, the visit from the police quashing any appetite she previously had), she asks if Kathryn can help her upstairs.
‘I just need to lie down and rest for a bit,’ she says, as she clutches her daughter’s arm, climbing each step slowly, deliberately. For once she appears frangible, her bones thin beneath her cardigan. When did she start losing so much weight? She clings to Kathryn as they shuffle along the corridor to her room, and Kathryn helps her on to the four-poster bed. It’s as if all her energy has been snuffed out of her, and she looks as withered as a decaying flower. ‘I’m exhausted,’ she says, as she stretches out and rests her head against the plump pillows, her face white.
