“No, but I like the sound of her,” says Joyce.
“What do we think about this fella they killed?” asks Anthony. “Curran? I’ve seen him round here.”
“Well, it’s very sad, obviously,” says Joyce.
“They shot him, that’s what I heard,” says Anthony. “I wonder what he’d done.”
“I think he was bludgeoned to death, Anthony,” says Joyce.
“Bludgeoned, was he? You really do have lovely hair, Joyce. You have to promise you’ll leave it to me in your will.”
Outside, Elizabeth rolls her eyes.
“I heard they gunned him down on the seafront,” says Anthony. “Three guys on motorbikes.”
“No, just bludgeoned in his kitchen, apparently,” says Joyce. “No motorbikes.”
“Who’d do that?” says Anthony. “Bludgeon someone in their kitchen?”
Who indeed, thinks Elizabeth, and looks at her watch again.
“I bet he had a lovely kitchen too,” says Anthony. “What a shame. I always had a bit of a thing for him. Like, you could tell he was a wrong ’un, but you still would?”
“Well, we’re agreed there, Anthony,” says Joyce.
“I hope they catch whoever did it.”
“I’m sure they will,” says Joyce, and takes a sip of her tea.
Elizabeth decides enough is enough, stands, and walks into the room. Anthony turns and sees her.
“Ooh, here she is. Dusty Springfield.”
“Good morning, Anthony. I’m afraid you’re going to have to release Joyce. I need her.”
Joyce claps her hands.
23.
Joyce
So that was a day I wasn’t expecting when I was having my muesli this morning. First the nun business, and now this.
If you think I have muesli every morning, you’ve got the wrong idea, but this morning I did, and as things turned out, I was glad of the energy. It has gone ten p.m. now, and I have only just put my things down. At least I had a snooze on the train home.
I was having my hair cut this morning with Anthony. We were nearly done and were just having a lovely gossip when who should arrive but Elizabeth. With a tote bag and a flask, both of which were out of character. She told me a taxi was on its way, and to get ready for a day out. I have learned to be spontaneous since I moved to Coopers Chase, so I didn’t bat an eyelid. I asked her where we were going, so I would have an idea about the weather, etc., and she said London, which surprised me, but it explained the flask. I know exactly how London can be, so I popped home and put on a nice coat. And thank goodness I did!
We still use the Robertsbridge taxis, even though they once took Ron’s granddaughter to the wrong station, but to their credit they have got better. The driver, Hamed, was Somalian, and Somalia sounds very beautiful. Surprise, surprise, Elizabeth has been there, and they had a right old chat. Hamed has six children and the eldest is a GP in Chislehurst, if you know it? I once went to a Christmas market there, so was at least able to chip in.
All this time Elizabeth was waiting for me to ask where we were going, but I didn’t crack. She likes to be in charge and, don’t get me wrong, I like her to be in charge too, but it doesn’t hurt to make your presence felt every now and again. I think she rubs off on me, and in a good way. I have never really thought that I was a pushover, but the more time I spend with Elizabeth, the more I think I probably am. Maybe if I’d had Elizabeth’s spirit then I would have been to Somalia too? That’s just an example of what I mean.
We got on the train at Robertsbridge (the 9:51 stopper), and she’d cracked by Tunbridge Wells and let me in on it. We were off to see Joanna.
Joanna! My little girl! You can imagine my questions. Elizabeth had me back exactly where she wanted me.
So why were we going to see Joanna? Well, this is what it seems had transpired.
Elizabeth explained, in that way she has that makes everything sound so reasonable, that we knew as much as the police did about many things in this case, which was a good thing for everyone. However, it would also be good if there were areas where we knew more than the police, in case we needed to “trade” at any point. This might be useful, according to Elizabeth, because Donna is, unfortunately, a bit too canny to tell us everything. After all, who are we?
