ON DEVIL'S BRAE (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (Dark Minds Mystery Suspense) (10 page)

Chapter 15 January 2013, Inverdarroch

Cassandra passed the kirk, and glancing over the stone wall into the grounds beyond, she saw the visitor must have left, as the place was empty. She fleetingly wondered whom he was visiting and whether it was as a friend or a relative. She knew next to nothing about the inhabitants of Inverdarroch.

Cassandra didn’t return home immediately after her brief morning visit with Fiona and Donald. She had told the truth about braving the farm again. Privately, she was working on the principle that by buying some eggs she might curry favour from Mrs Campbell. She could but try.

The same two brothers were still in the back yard and watched Cassandra as she walked up the track by the side of the farmhouse. Splashes of green cow manure lined the way, and she found she had to mind where she trod in case she slipped. The men stayed where they were, even when she waved a hand and called out.

“I’d like some eggs. Can you help me or shall I see your mother?” When neither man responded—she hadn’t a clue which brother was which—she wondered if they were either stone deaf or just plain ignorant. There wasn’t a hint of civility between them as they regarded her steadily. Feeling frustrated, Cassandra thought perhaps they saw her as a snobby city dweller or a fallen woman because she lived on her own. Good heavens, she was a single woman with her own means and independence! She was sure they used to hang witches around there for less.

A dog’s furious barking behind her diverted her attention from the two truculent-looking men.

“It’s you again. What is it?”

Cassandra summoned up her best and brightest smile at her neighbour, who seemed to ooze herself round her kitchen door. “Mrs Campbell, I’m sorry to trouble you, but I wondered if you might have half a dozen eggs, please.”

“We only sell by the dozen.” Mrs Campbell’s reply was curt.

“Then a dozen will be fine.”

“Wait here.”

Cassandra suppressed a sigh as the fat, slovenly woman dragged the black-and-white Border collie back inside the house, slamming the door behind her.
She’s not going to invite me in from the cold then
, Cassandra mused. While she waited, the two brothers sauntered across to the barn, muttering to themselves and sniggering. Cassandra felt relief at their departure. It wasn’t because they stared at her too long; it was more a hint of malice sent in her direction. Maybe her imagination was working overtime again.

After a wait of five or so minutes, Mrs Campbell shuffled back to the door in her ratty old slippers and thrust a carton of eggs into Cassandra’s hands. “That’ll be three pounds. I’ll add it to your bill,” she said as she prepared to close the door.

Cassandra placed her foot forward in the gap. “I may need some more wood later if this cold weather keeps up. I noticed your sons over by your woodpile just now. If I run low, can I buy some from you?” She lifted her chin and looked the woman directly in her face. She was the
customer
dammit! She demanded
some
respect.

Mrs Campbell glanced down at Cassandra’s booted foot, pursed her lips, and thought better of it. She gave what Cassandra could only think of as a parody of a smile. “Aye. We supply everyone else here in Inverdarroch. Let me know nearer the time, and I’ll get Rae to bring some over in the trailer.”

“Thank you. Good morning, Mrs Campbell.”
Round one to Cassandra
, she thought as she picked her way back between the cow slurry. Just before she left the farmhouse, she glanced back. She saw a flicker of movement at one of the downstairs windows and a face of a young woman pressed against the glass. Thinking it must be the elusive daughter, Carol, she gave her a wave. The figure darted back into the gloom behind her, leaving Cassandra to speculate whether she imagined seeing anyone.

On her way back, she passed the Blackmore sisters’ house. She wondered if she should mention her own sister the next time they met. Seeing as Elizabeth was the person who found her and sent for the ambulance, Susan and she must have been on speaking terms. The sisters might even have known her well. Drawing level with their cottage, she spied a figure in the garden, and Cassandra realised it was the older sister, Elizabeth. She was busy placing scraps on a bird table, and the ground was littered with fallen seeds and dry bread crusts.

“Miss Potter, how are you? I noticed your car when you arrived the other day.” She smiled as she looked up at the sound of Cassandra’s footsteps on the road.

Cassandra walked up to the garden wall as Elizabeth opened the gate. “I wondered when I’d see you. Angus told me you’re thinking of staying for a wee bit longer this time?”

Surprised that Angus had already spoken to her neighbours, Cassandra could only nod. Her attention shifted from Elizabeth as the door behind her opened to reveal another woman. She guessed she was Elizabeth’s sister. Cassandra realised she had only ever met Elizabeth on her few weekends up there—Lorna had never been around. Elizabeth followed Cassandra’s gaze and settled on her sibling.

“Lorna. Come and meet Miss Potter.”

“Why don’t you bring her in, dear? Perhaps she’d like some refreshment.” Her face was one broad smile.

Cassandra thought Elizabeth was about to say something, as she frowned and paused, then seemed to change her mind. “Of course, if you’re sure everything is as you like it indoors. Where are my manners? Would you please come in?” Elizabeth opened the gate wider, and Cassandra followed her inside. “Lorna is very particular about keeping the house clean and tidy. She hates anything out of place,” she explained as Cassandra removed her coat.

Cassandra took a good look at both women; Lorna was the younger and prettier of the two. They looked to be in their late fifties or early sixties. Although both were tall, Elizabeth looked far sturdier, her features strong and bordering on mannish, whilst Lorna was thin and frail-looking. Elizabeth showed Cassandra into a neat sitting room. Lorna hurried in after her and removed a bag of knitting from the settee.

“Do sit near the fire. It’s so cold today. We were saying earlier, weren’t we, Beth, how cold it’s turned. We’ll have more snow before the week is out, you’ll see, and then we’ll all be housebound. Now dear, would you like some tea? Freshly made and from tea leaves. Beth and I can’t abide those teabag things, can we? No, they have no flavour at all” she said in a breathless voice before carrying on without waiting for her sister’s response. “How about some biscuits or a slice of cake to go with it? I’ve made a nice Dundee fruit cake. My fruit cakes are famous!”

Cassandra didn’t know whether to feel bemused or amused by Lorna’s frenetic personality. As well as talking with hardly a breath in-between sentences, she never kept still. Her head darted around on her neck as she looked from Elizabeth to Cassandra, her eyes small black dots of feverish activity. She reminded Cassandra of a rather large chicken.

“Er, tea would be lovely,” Cassandra managed before wandering further into the room. Elizabeth hadn’t said a word since her sister joined them, and Cassandra wondered if she too found Lorna overwhelming. She turned to her once they were both seated.

“I gather from my sister’s solicitor I have you to thank for finding Susan that day. I’m afraid I never knew her well. When I visited here before, we never really got to speak.”

“No. Lorna and I decided to leave you in peace. We thought you had a lot to sort out.”

“There wasn’t too much, nothing vital.”

“Mr Triggs indicated you’d probably sell the cottage. We don’t get many people visiting the valley as it’s so isolated. A young woman like you would be lonely on her own.”

There it was again. This was the third time the sale of Susan’s cottage—
her
cottage now—had been mentioned. Why were people so keen on her leaving the village? An involuntary shiver ran through her.

“Cold? I’ll put more coal on the fire,” Elizabeth removed the fireguard and placed a few pieces of fuel onto the glowing embers. “No. There’s not much to do in Inverdarroch unless you like fishing and shooting.”

“What brought you two here?” Cassandra couldn’t resist. The sisters were not farming people. Neither was born locally, judging by their accents. The house was a puzzle; inside, it was completely opposite to the others she had visited in Inverdarroch. Although all the cottages kept the character of their age, the Blackmores’ place was stripped of anything old. It reminded Cassandra of a new bungalow on the south coast of England, but it wasn’t quite right—the whole house looked cold and clinical. There were few personal things lying around: a small bookcase and a couple of muted watercolours on the walls. Cassandra would have expected ornaments, a row of china flying ducks over the mantelpiece, or a set of Toby jugs on the windowsill. Apart from a vase of silk flowers, the place could have been the reception in a doctor’s surgery.

Elizabeth shot her a swift look before replacing her frown with a smile and took a seat opposite. “It was Lorna. We needed somewhere quiet to retire, and this place was as good as any.”

Cassandra thought there was mystery there but decided not to push; she was a guest after all. “How well did
you
know Susan? You see, Susan left home when she was a teenager, and I didn’t find out about her until much later.”

Elizabeth looked interested. “To tell you the truth, we didn’t know she had any surviving family. Susan rarely mentioned anything about family things, and we assumed she was all alone in the world.”

“Was she a friend of yours? I’m sorry to persist, but you see, because I never got to know her, I’m keen to find out what I missed during all those years. What type of a woman she was. We only shared a few weeks together before she returned here and passed away.”

Elizabeth paused and stared out of the window. Two coal tits were scrapping over a peanut taken from the bird table. “She was ill, apparently.”

“I know Susan was diagnosed with a brain aneurysm. Mr Triggs told me. I wondered about her depression? The inquest said she died of an overdose. Did you know she took medication for it?”

The older woman darted a look in Cassandra’s direction. “I know nothing about pills or depression. We weren’t very close.”

Cassandra smiled. “No, I’m sure Susan will have kept that to herself. Depression is very personal and hard to deal with, especially when you’re living on your own.”

“She spent most of the time making her sculptures. Occasionally, she’d paint and take an easel out if the weather was fine. Or just a sketchpad…she seemed to like walking. Sometimes she’d be out for hours and would get home late. I’d see her passing by. I would have invited her in, but I know Susan would have refused because she kept to herself, mostly.”

“Angus told me there’s an exhibition of Susan’s work in Edinburgh. He thought I ought to go and see her work first-hand. Apparently, the pieces which are left in the cottage are only a few odds and ends. I thought some were quite strange, actually.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “In what way were they strange?”

“Well, considering she was an artist of repute, some of the pieces she left here are…quite amateurish. Not at all what I expected. You could even say they are childish in their execution. I’m no judge of art, but apart from the animal sculptures, there’s nothing there I’d have paid money for.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

When Elizabeth said nothing more, Cassandra wondered whether she had bored her with talk of Susan and her work. Out of politeness, she asked, “You say you came to live here because of Lorna…how long have you been here?”

Elizabeth cast a quick look in the direction of the kitchen before she spoke in a low voice. “We’ve been here for just over twenty-two years now. Lorna was suffering from depression, and it culminated in a nervous breakdown. Afterwards, she was desperate to live somewhere new, where we could start all over again, with no one knowing us. She likes it here and is adamant she wants to stay. I doubt if we’ll ever leave.”

Cassandra glanced away after seeing Elizabeth’s despondency…and something else. She thought it was loneliness. Poor woman. If she had been in the same position, she would have felt like climbing the walls. What on earth did she do to fill her day apart from looking after Lorna? “I understand. Perhaps we all would benefit from living quietly for a time. Do you ever leave the village? I mean apart from shopping for supplies, do you visit anyone socially or go away on holiday? This is such a small community, you must get lonely.”

She laughed. “Oh no, we couldn’t leave the place. Lorna would hate it. I confess I do sometimes get lonely though. It would be nice to have the occasional visitor, but we’ve let things drift with the few members of the family we still have. Besides, Lorna isn’t very good around a lot of people. She’s rather excitable, and I have to calm her down. I suppose years ago she would have been called highly strung.”

“I’m sorry, it must be hard. I don’t know whether I could do it.”

“It’s not a matter of knowing whether you could. You just
do
. Lorna is my responsibility, and I’d never leave her to cope on her own. She couldn’t.”

“Yes, I understand. Where were you before here?”

“Our family comes from Gloucester. We have a few cousins still living there, but nobody we really know. I was a chemist and Lorna owned a flower shop. We sold the two businesses and moved here. We had to because of Lorna. She couldn’t stand living there anymore. There were too many memories for her. It was the child, you see. It was all very sad, tragic and…and it shattered Lorna’s life. We decided she would feel better if she got away from everyone who knew.”

Elizabeth sighed and shifted her weight in her chair. “Of course, afterwards I couldn’t leave Lorna by herself each day, so it was just as well we sold up. We saved some money between us and pooled everything and bought this house. Anything left over, I invested. We’re okay, Lorna and I. We understand each other and get along.”

Cassandra stifled her cries of heart-wrung sympathy; Elizabeth must have heard plenty of those over the years. A dead child. Poor Lorna. And she thought she had worries. “That’s very distressing. I’m sorry,” she said.

“I assume you’re unmarried?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes. I’ve never met the right person, but I live in hope! I’m sure he’s out there somewhere, just waiting for me,” Cassandra laughed.