Truth Will Out (3 page)

Maude waited for the right moment and then said, ‘Lionel is planning a holiday for me. He’s booked a week’s stay at a private guest house in Hastings. The Romilees Hotel.’

Biddy frowned. ‘Romilees? That’s new to me. Where exactly is it situated?’

‘Somewhere on the hill opposite the pier.’

‘You mean behind where the new White Rock Pavilion will be? Does it have a view?’

‘I suppose so. Our stay there starts at the end of next week, on Saturday. I feel rather mean, leaving you both behind, but my dear husband thinks we need a little time to ourselves.’ She shrugged.

Biddy said, ‘No offence, dear, but I’d rather stay here, to tell you the truth. I never have been one for holidays. I went to Exeter once with your mother, to a so-called boarding house. All that way to stay with some friends of hers who owned it. It was after she recovered from the pleurisy, before you were born. It was nice enough but I didn’t think much of the food. Not enough of it and nothing I could call substantial.’

Alice grinned. ‘You mean no big nourishing puddings!’

‘Exactly.’ Biddy folded her arms. ‘Flimsy food. That’s what I called it. An hour after a meal you needed a biscuit.’

Maude said, ‘I didn’t know Mother had ever had pleurisy.’

‘Didn’t you?’ For a moment she struggled with her memory. ‘Well, maybe it was something else. I forget. It was something that began with “p” . . . Or was it? It might have been after the jaundice. Your mother was never well for long, poor soul.’

Primmy woke, stretched and wandered to the back door. Alice got up from the table and let her out into the garden.

Maude poured herself a second cup of tea and handed the teapot to Alice, who refilled her own cup.

Biddy looked at her niece. ‘I think Lionel’s right. You should have some time together. We’re quite a houseful and you’ve only been married for a year or so.’

‘Like a second honeymoon,’ Alice agreed. ‘He’s being very thoughtful as usual.’

‘Of course he is, Maude. Don’t worry about us. Alice and I will have a grand old time here, won’t we, Alice? We can get up to all sorts of mischief. When the cat’s away, the mice will play!’

‘A grand old time? What are you implying?’ Maude challenged, laughing.

Alice said, ‘We could give a wild party and invite all sorts of undesirables!’

‘You don’t know any undesirables!’ Maude stirred sugar into her tea. ‘Or maybe you do!’

‘Precisely. I might be friends with an axe murderer, for all you know! Or my favourite uncle might have been a forger. Bank notes and such like.’

Not to be outdone, Biddy said, ‘We could run off with the family silver while you’re both away.’

Maude ignored the suggestion. ‘Anyway, the plan is we’re going to take gentle strolls along the cliff tops at Fairlight, and maybe picnic on the beach. Fresh sea air!’

‘You can do all that here in Folkestone,’ Biddy pointed out. ‘What’s so special about Hastings? It’s rather gone down in the world, hasn’t it?’

‘Don’t say that!’ Maude said indignantly. ‘Lionel thinks—’

‘It used to be popular with invalids with lung troubles who needed fresh air,’ her aunt continued unabashed. ‘And the sun and sea bathing was highly recommended, but that’s mostly gone now. Hastings isn’t what it was although it’s trying to recover.’ She cut another slice of bread. ‘Your grandmother lived there all her life and she used to go on about all the wealthy people who came down from London in the summer, but now it’s only day trippers and the like. Noisy, no money, here one day and gone the next! At least Folkestone has avoided that particular problem.’

Maude shrugged off the criticism. ‘Well anyway, Lionel thinks the change will do us good. He may need to spend the odd day in London at the gallery but there’s a train service, although it’s very slow and not especially punctual.’

‘So he’ll be leaving you on your own some days.’ Alice got up to let Primmy in again and gave her some scrapings from the porridge saucepan. ‘You’ll find that a bit odd, won’t you? You might be lonely without your devoted aunt and your faithful companion.’

‘I shan’t be alone exactly,’ said Maude. She knew Alice was teasing her but insisted on taking the comment seriously. The same thought had occurred to her but she wasn’t about to admit it. ‘There’ll be other people staying in the hotel, presumably, and the staff will be on hand. I might even take some charcoal and a sketchbook and do some sketching in the gardens. Apparently they have a very attractive garden. A small lily pool . . . and a small aviary.’

‘Forget the birds,’ Biddy suggested. ‘They’ll be difficult to sketch with all that fluttering. Unless they are parrots. They do at least sit still on their perches most of the time. I’d go for the lilies if I were you.’

‘You ought to be able to sketch, Maude,’ said Alice, ‘and paint, with such a famous artist for a father.’

‘You’d think so but I’m not much good at it. Still, it would pass the time.’

Biddy suddenly lost interest in the conversation. The idea of herself and Alice being left to their own devices depressed her. There would only be Alice to enjoy her cooking. Poor Lionel would miss her puddings. She stood up abruptly and smoothed her apron. ‘I think I’ll make a bacon roly-poly for supper,’ she said. ‘All those in favour?’

Two hands rose obediently.

Biddy’s smile returned.

The following days seemed to rush past while Maude spent a great deal of time trying to decide which clothes to take with her. She knew they would be expected to dress for dinner so she spent a cheerful afternoon with Alice, shopping for a suitable outfit to augment the dress she already had. They finally agreed on a lavender skirt and a lightweight jacket in the same colour but with white trim at the cuffs and collar. Maude began to look forward to the trip. The fact that they wouldn’t be too far from home allayed her fears about her aunt and Alice being left to fend for themselves and Lionel gave strict instructions that if anything went wrong in his absence they were to be telephoned at the hotel immediately.

‘Not that I expect anything to go wrong,’ Maude told Lionel earnestly, as they undressed for bed. ‘But if it does . . . Aunt Biddy is becoming rather vague and—’

‘You don’t have to tell me that, Maude. I can see it for myself.’ He reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘So stop worrying, my love. If anything does happen we’ll summon a taxi and be home in no time.’

The following afternoon, Thursday, Maude was relaxing on one of the garden seats with Primmy beside her when the dog sprang to her feet, stared down the garden and started barking furiously.

‘Primmy! You made me jump!’ Maude scolded and turned to see what had excited the dog. To her surprise she saw a figure half hidden in the bushes and she watched in some trepidation as the dog raced forward.

‘Who’s there?’ she cried, jumping to her feet. ‘I can see you!’ Glancing back at the house she hoped someone would notice what was happening and come to investigate.

Primmy had found her quarry and was yelping with excitement as she pranced round whoever it was. Eventually a male voice cried, ‘Call him off!’

‘Not until you come out of those bushes!’

The voice grew shriller. ‘Get down, damn you!’

It occurred to Maude that the dog might be in danger from the stranger. It was unlikely to be the other way round because Primmy was noisy but not aggressive. Maude took a few steps forward and then called, ‘Primmy! Come here. Good girl!’

‘Get
away
from me, you stupid animal!’

The intruder had not hurt the dog so far and Maude felt a little braver. She also assumed that the intruder hadn’t been bitten by the dog. When the dog returned she caught hold of her collar and called out, ‘Come out at once or I shall call the police.’

Almost at once a wiry figure appeared from the bushes and stepped gingerly into full view, and Maude saw with relief that he was no more than a very young man who was obviously more frightened than she was.

‘I’m not a burglar,’ he cried. ‘Don’t call the police. I’ve brought a package for a Mr Lionel Brent, that’s all. I’ve done nothing wrong.’ He edged a little closer. He was thin with unkempt hair and what Maude thought of as a foxy face. The sleeves of his jacket were too short for his arms and one of his bootlaces was undone. Maude could see no sign of a weapon and no hint of hostility in his face. So who on earth was he and why was he bringing her husband a package?

At that moment Alice appeared and called Primmy to her. ‘What is it, Maude? Can I help? Shall I fetch Mr Brent?’

Maud realized at once that this was a clever bluff on Alice’s part because they all knew that there was no man in the house. Lionel was miles away in London. Maude was full of admiration for her friend’s quick thinking. She replied, ‘It’s all right, Alice. The young man has brought something for Lionel.’

The young man held out a bulky envelope. ‘I was told to deliver this – for a shilling – but I was only to give it to Mr Brent.’ His voice quivered and Maude began to feel sorry for him. She guessed him to be about eighteen and obviously he had been tempted by the promise of a shilling.

She held out her hand. ‘I’ll give it to Mr Brent later on. He’s my husband.’ From the corner of her eye she saw that her aunt was now also watching from the front steps.

The young man shook his head. ‘I have to give it to him and only him. He was very determined about that.’

‘Who was very determined? You’re speaking in riddles.’

‘I can’t say. More’n my life’s worth.’ His voice had grown sullen. You tell him I’m here. Say Jem’s here. He’ll know.’

Maude realized suddenly that he was no longer frightened. It was unfortunate that Lionel was absent but she must follow Alice’s lead. She said, ‘He’s ill in bed. My husband. A slight fever. He’s sleeping.’

He considered this, his head on one side. ‘I won’t get a penny if I don’t give it to him.’

‘To Mr Brent. I know. Well, he can’t come down so there’s an end to it.’ Maude gave him what she hoped was a stern look and hardened her voice. She didn’t want him to think she was at all wary of him.

‘So you say!’

She ignored the remark and said sharply, ‘You won’t get your money so get along!’

‘But I have to deliver it, see, otherwise . . .’ His eyes had narrowed suddenly as if he suspected her of lying.

‘But he’s not available and I’m not having you littering up the garden while you wait for him to retur—’ She left the word unfinished and said instead ‘to recover’. Even to her own ears it sounded rather unconvincing but Maude, sensing that he posed no threat, pressed home the point she was making. ‘So please leave and be quite sure that if you set foot on our property again I shall call in the police and have you arrested for trespass.’

For a moment he considered his options then shrugged. He turned away, stuffing the bulky envelope back into his pocket, and Maude, Biddy and Alice watched him in silence as he stumbled back through the bushes and presumably climbed back over the fence.

‘All very strange,’ Maude muttered as she made her way back to the front steps to join the others. They released Primmy and she raced off in his direction but, finding him gone, returned looking crestfallen and threw Maude a reproachful glance.

Maude explained the whole encounter to Biddy and Alice and they agreed to watch at intervals from one of the bedroom windows, just in case he came back, but there was no further sighting and even the dog lost interest in the stranger and retired to her basket.

When Lionel came home Maude held his briefcase while he took off his raincoat, and she told him about the intruder.

‘Didn’t need it,’ he grumbled. ‘Not a sight of rain all day.’

‘You’re not listening, Lionel. I’m telling you that this weird young man was lurking—’

‘I saw him,’ Lionel told her. ‘A bit of a scared rabbit, wasn’t he! He was waiting for me on the station platform. He must be a bit dense.’ He tapped his head.

‘But he had a package for you. An envelope.’

He nodded impatiently. ‘It was a package of information from the guest house, which I’d requested but they sent the wrong stuff. I wanted to know what was happening in the town in the way of entertainment during our stay.’

‘So where is it now?’

‘I tossed it in the station rubbish bin. The leaflets were for August not June.’

Maude stared at him. ‘But why send someone like him? All that cloak-and-dagger stuff and . . . and a shilling . . . and refusing to give it to me! Why not put it in the post? Don’t you think that’s very odd?’

Lionel shrugged. ‘No good asking me why they sent him. Maybe he lives in Folkestone. I don’t know. It seems an odd thing to do but there’s no harm done.’

‘But I nearly called the police. He frightened me, Lionel. I keep thinking that if we had already been on our holiday in Hastings, Alice and Aunt Biddy might have been in some kind of danger. Even if he was harmless it would be unsettling.’

‘But they weren’t here alone, Maude, and nothing bad happened so do stop worrying.’

Lionel’s attitude was reassuring and Maude began to feel that perhaps, after all, she had made too much of it. ‘Primmy was marvellous. She rushed straight at him, barking like a lunatic. The young man was almost as scared as I was and—’

‘My poor love!’ He hugged her briefly. ‘Just forget about it.’ His expression changed. His eyes shone. ‘Now I’ll tell you about
my
day. We sold the last of your father’s paintings to a French chap. For a good sum!’ He whispered the amount in her ear and her eyebrows shot up.

‘Goodness! Father would be astonished.’

‘Monsieur Laconte was just browsing but it took his eye right away. He knew the name Cope and also recognized the landscape. He was determined to have it.’

‘That’s wonderful news! Well done, Lionel!’ The encounter in the garden was already fading from her mind. ‘So when does the gallery want the next batch of pictures?’

‘In a few weeks’ time. I don’t want them to be too readily available. Let the clients wait for them! Maybe next month.’ He loosened his tie and unfastened his collar as he headed for the stairs. He would change from what he called his ‘business clothes’ into something more casual and was looking forward to his evening meal.