I hesitate. ‘Yeah. The play was … good.’
I obviously don’t sound convincing because she laughs. ‘Elspeth has some strange tastes,’ she says. ‘What was it about?’
‘It was too highbrow for me. I didn’t get most of it.’ I remember how Elspeth had taken my hand between both of hers afterwards and asked, her tone a little patronizing, how I’d enjoyed my first theatre experience. It had niggled me that she’d assumed – rightly – that it was my first time, unless you count the pantomime I went to with Mum when I was seven.
Aggie hands me my toast and pats me on the shoulder.‘You’re lovely as you are,’ she says. ‘It’s nice to have a bit of unpretentiousness about the place. I miss that.’
I don’t tell Aggie how Elspeth had said yesterday as we were crocheting, ‘Oh, you do have a delightful West Country accent. I know a very good elocutionist if you ever fancied making it more …’ she’d paused, her eyes assessing me as though she was trying to find the right word ‘… euphonious.’ I didn’t want to admit I didn’t know what the word meant.
Aggie sits opposite me with a cup of tea between her large hands. I need to be honest with her. ‘Aggie – I’m so sorry. I think I put my foot in it with Elspeth. I asked her about Viola. One of the shops was named after her. But she was very defensive about it and basically denied having a daughter called Viola.’
Aggie’s usually good-natured face clouds. ‘I don’t know what went on there,’ she says, shaking her head and making her chins wobble. ‘Viola could be a little madam, don’t get me wrong, and the mind games the two girls played, well …’ She purses her lips, then takes a sip of her tea. ‘There was often fireworks. But it wasn’t Kathryn. Kathryn was as good as gold. She was the perfect daughter. I suppose, really, she made Viola look bad without meaning to.’
‘And she was in a children’s home before then?’
‘That’s right.’
‘It must have been hard.’
‘She never seemed troubled, though. She had her head screwed on, that one. It was like she came here determined to make it work. She said to me once that she’d do everything she could to be the perfect daughter so as not to get sent back to the home.’
I feel a stab of pity for Kathryn. ‘Do you know what happened to her parents?’
‘Her dad wasn’t around. I’m not sure what happened there. And her mum,’ she lowers her voice, even though it’s just us in the room, ‘drugs. She took an overdose. Kathryn was the one who found her and called the police. She was only eight, bless her.’
‘How awful.’
She shakes her chins. ‘But Elspeth has been a brilliant mother to Kathryn. And Kathryn is a dutiful daughter.’
Yet I sense that something is off about their relationship. It’s obvious Kathryn avoided us yesterday. And it’s clear she doesn’t agree with Elspeth employing a companion. Although it could be that I’m comparing their relationship to the one I had with my own mother, which, in my eyes, was perfect.
We sit in silence for a few minutes. My eyes stray to the French windows and the garden beyond. I’m disappointed that Lewis has gone. It would be better if there were other young people about the place, someone to talk to. I had Cherry at the care home. She was a few years younger than me, but the two of us used to have a right laugh. I live for my days off when I can see Courtney. The rest of my spare time – not that there seems to be that much of it – is spent scrolling through social media in the sitting room, where the Wi-Fi works better, looking up Matilde and Jemima, trying to glean as much as I can about what they had been like. Sometimes I feel as if I knew them.
Aggie gets up from her chair and takes her empty mug to the dishwasher. ‘Right,’ she says, gathering her coat from the peg by the back door. ‘I’m off. Kathryn’s takenElspeth to Frome to look at a painting, so they won’t be back until teatime. The cleaner will be here at four and I’ll be back around five.’
‘I’ll be going out soon,’ I say, necking the remains of my tea.
She winks at me. ‘Don’t get up to any mischief.’
I laugh and pull a ‘What – me?’ expression.
‘See you later, ducky,’ she calls, as she bustles past me and up the stairs. I hear the front door bang shut and everything falls silent. I’ve got the whole house to myself for several hours before I’m due to meet Courtney at the salon. I know I shouldn’t do it. My mum and Courtney would never approve. But I can’t resist having a snoop around.
I don’t know what I’m looking for, really – evidence of a break-in last night maybe, even though, deep down, I know that can’t have been the case. In reality, the only person who could have unlocked my door is Elspeth. Unless Kathryn came over in the dead of night, but why would she?
I’ve been in the sitting room and the library, but they are all meticulously tidy. There are no papers that belong to Elspeth. My mum always had a stash of bills, documents, insurance papers and birth certificates in a suitcase under her bed. But there is nothing like that in Elspeth’s room. Kathryn’s is also very tidy, but that’s because she’s only using it now and again when she stays over. Considering Elspeth has lived here for nearly forty years, the house is surprisingly clutter-free. Sometimes it feels as though I’m in a National Trust property, not in someone’s home at all. The most lived-in part of the house is thekitchen, but that might be because Aggie occupies it. Then I remember the study, the small room that Elspeth never goes into on the lower ground floor at the front of the house, next to the kitchen. I run back down the stairs and stand in the square lobby, poking my head around the kitchen door just to double-check that I really am alone and Aggie hasn’t come back. But when I can see it’s empty I go to the only other door off the lobby, dismayed when I discover it’s locked. I stand staring at the door in disappointment. And then I mentally shake myself. What am I doing? Am I really expecting to find evidence of foul play or criminal activity, or am I just looking for excitement in a job I’m finding a bit dull? Matilde’s death was an accident and Jemima killed herself.But they both looked like you, a little voice in my head says.Isn’t that a bit odd?
Urgh. I’m driving myself mad with these thoughts. I’m going to kill Courtney when I see her. This is all her fault with her talk of the Craigslist murders.
But why did Elspeth come into your room last night?
I put my hands over my ears to stop my relentless thoughts. Elspeth wouldn’t hurt me. She’s not capable of it. And it’s not like the other girls were found stabbed in their beds. I’m letting my imagination run away with me.
I move away from the door and return upstairs. I need to get out of this house and clear my head. I’m just about to run up to my room when the front doorbell rings. The sound reverberates through the hallway. I stand still for a few seconds, wondering if I should answer it, until I pull myself together. It’s probably the postman, for goodness’ sake.
I open the heavy door and a gust of cold air hits me inthe face. Standing on the threshold is a man in his twenties, with bright blond hair and eyes the colour of icicles. He’s wearing a puffy yellow jacket.
‘Oh, hi. Can I help you?’ I have to peer up at him because he’s so much taller than me.
