Monday October 26
Albert 12, Bertram 11, Cedric 10, and the twins, Daniel
and Edmond 8 had never had the kind of father they really needed. Frederick
Parsnip did not understand children, did not want them near him and avoided
even his own offspring whenever he could. He was sure it would be a blessing
not to have to chide and discipline them or even talk to them. We cannot add
praise them, because he never did. The vicar thought that games and even
football were a waste of time.
Although the five
Parsnip boys would inevitably brag at school about their hero of a father going
to Africa to convert the pagans, they were not sorry to see him go.
Albert and Bertram attended Middlethumpton Comprehensive
and this term Cedric joined them on the school bus every morning since he had
graduated from primary school and was going to the big school instead.
The boys didn’t think much of girls, but had made an
exception for Anna, who had once been found on the vicarage kitchen doorstep
and was now graduating to the Comprehensive along with Charlie, Gary’s daughter,
who had learnt Spanish in Spain, where she had been taken with her mother, but
was later sent home to her delighted father.
***
Once the boys were out of the house that Monday morning,
some time after the vicar had left with Mr Grisham in Mr Grisham’ four-door
Ford, it was time for Edith and Beatrice to discuss the new family situation.
The boys had been disturbed to see their father apparently
getting on with Mr Grisham like a house on fire, because Mr Grisham was an
unpleasant kind of person. Edith had assured them that Mr Grisham was doing
their father a big favour by taking him to the airport. It would have cost a
fortune to take a taxi, and Frederick Parsnip had not been inundated with other
offers to give him a lift.
In fact, most of his parishioners were disgusted that he
should leave them in the lurch. They were going to hold a meeting to choose a
deputation to go to the bishop and tell him not to let the vicar come back.
Edith had not been invited to the meeting. On reflection,
it has to be said that Edith would probably have supported the deputation
except that she was going to live on Frederick’s salary.
***
Beatrice made fresh tea and scrambled eggs.
“We can’t have you falling apart,” she told Edith, who was
battling with her conscience about Robert. “We’ll get this place tidied up and
move the beds together in the master bedroom, then you can invite Robert to
stay.”
“I can’t do that. What would the children say?”
“You’ll have to tell them, Edith. You can’t enter into a
cloak and dagger affair. “Tell the older boys first and then they can tell the
young ones.”
“If you think so, Beatrice. Can’t you tell them?”
“Edith, it’s your love affair. You tell them!” Beatrice
remonstrated.
With those words, Beatrice got up from the table and took
her crockery to rinse at the sink.
“Leave that, Beatrice,” said Edith. “Mrs Cagney is coming
to clean. She can do the kitchen.”
“I’ll help you over this
domestic hump by staying tonight, Edith. Oscar will understand.”
***
Oscar Pope was
Beatrice’s long-suffering husband. They had celebrated their silver wedding
recently. Beatrice always did exactly what she wanted to and Oscar kept the
home fires burning. It was a good arrangement, thought Beatrice, who had
unfortunately been unable to have children, but compensated by exerting control
over schools in the guise of school inspector.
***
Although Beatrice and
Oscar led blameless lives, Frederick Parsnip had not approved of them. That was
almost like a blessing coming from him. Edith had always been envious of her
sister-in-law. She was big-mouthed and big-bosomed, but unlike her brother she
was also big-hearted.
Frederick shrank in Beatrice’s
presence. He had always done that, even as a little boy. Beatrice had had to
take him to places in his short flannel pants. His nose ran constantly and he
was invariably sullen. Later, Beatrice maintained that she was to blame for him
becoming a vicar. She was not sure why, but at least he had some authority in
that job. Not much, but some. she had to admit.
***
Edith was still sitting
at the kitchen table when the phone rang.
It was Cleo.
It was nearly midday
morning by now.
Edith and Beatrice had
moved to the sitting-room for morning coffee so that Mrs Cagney could clean the
kitchen. The phone was in the hall, so Beatrice could not quite hear what was
being said.
“Hello, Cleo,” said
Edith, ruefully remembering that she had seduced Cleo’s willing husband the
previous afternoon and had had sex with him all night. Now she was panicking.
Had Cleo caught up with her and was not really separated from Robert?
“Have you been
listening to the radio?” Cleo asked.
“No. Why?”
“A plane has come
down in the Alps, Edith.”
***
Edith was relieved.
“Is that all!” she
sighed, much to Cleo’s astonishment.
Cleo thought that Edith
should at least be sad enough about Frederick’s departure to show some sign uf
unease. She could not know that Edith was relieved that her night with Robert
had not been the reason for Cleo phoning.
“I don’t want to worry
you, but it was a flight to Africa. When did Frederick leave?”
“Ages ago. You don’t
think…”
“Never mind what I
think. He could have been on the plane then, couldn’t he? I mean, he left home
in plenty of time, I suppose.”
To her shame, Edith
could not remember exactly where the vicar’s plane was heading or even the
exact time his plane was leaving.
“I suppose so, but
I don’t know for sure. Is Africa via the Alps?”
“Find out, Edith.
There were no survivors.”
“Oh God!” said
Edith.
“Never mind God,” said
Cleo, who had no time for mythical super-beings. “Ring the airport. The boys
will find out about the plane crash somehow and you really should be a step
ahead.”
***
Beatrice had listened
into Edith’s half of the dialogue and was now standing next to her.
“Give me the phone. I’ll
talk to her,” she said, grabbing the handset.
“What is it, Cleo?”
“There’s been a plane crash
in the Alps, Beatrice. The plane was heading for Africa. Frederick could have
been on it. There were no survivors.”
“Oh dear. That is bad
news. I should deal with it immediately,” said Beatrice.
“I have an idea,” said
Cleo. “Since Edith seems to be in an odd frame of mind, find the flight data and
I’ll sort it out. I hope he was insured.”
“That’s the least of our
worries at the moment, Cleo. I’ll find the flight documents and call back.”
“OK. Good luck!”
***
Edith was quite unable
to say anything. Her guilty conscience rather than grief that she might have
lost Frederick was choking her.
***
“Pull yourself together
and come with me,” said Beatrice.
***
Edith followed Beatrice
like a zombie as she led the way into Frederick’s study, where Beatrice combed
through the contents of the in-tray, the out-tray and the see-to-it-later tray.
The filing system was a mess, but Beatrice found a flight confirmation in the
see-to-it-later tray,
“Thank goodness,” she
said, waving the document around. “I’ll phone Cleo back now.”
Beatrice went back into
the hall and pressed the button with ‘Cleo’ written on it.
“Here it is, Cleo.
Flight Number BA 1358 to Nairobi, leaving at 10:15.”
“OK,” said Cleo. ”I’ll
find out if your brother was on the plane, but it’s strange that you have not
been notified if he was, Beatrice.”
“We haven’t heard
anything, Cleo.”
“Well, he could have
missed the plane if you have not heard from BA. Let's hope he did.”
There was hope in
Beatrice’s heart as she went back into the study to tell Edith of the
possibility that Cleo had suggested.
Edith was sitting on
Frederick’s swivelling chair sobbing.
“He’s getting a divorce,
Beatrice,” she said, handing a document to her sister-in-law. “He signed the
papers before he left. All I need to do is get to a lawyer and I’ll be free.”
“I thought that is
what you wanted,” said Beatrice.
“But not if
Frederick died for it.”
“He was alive when
he signed the divorce papers, Edith."
“But he’ll never
know if his divorce went through.”
“It won’t go
through if he’s dead."
"Of course
not. Silly me," sniffed Edith.
“Where did you
find that document, Edith?”
“On his desk, under
a pile of unfinished sermons.”
“Well, you won’t need
divorce papers if he was on that plane,” said Beatrice callously. “That solves
one problem, doesn’t it.”
“I suppose it does,” sniffed Edith, and Beatrice
could not hazard a guess at why Edith was going through the pain of divorce
when the pain of widowhood was ptobably more imminent.
***
Beatrice decided
that any further attempt to talk to Edith would be futile.
“I think we should
wait until Cleo phones back,” she suggested.
“I think I’ll phone
Dorothy,” Edith said.
Edith knew that Beatrice
was upset, but her rough manner of coping with the situation was hard to bear, and
Edith could not think of any appropriate words to comfort her sister-in-law.
Both women knew that it
wasn’t love of Frederick, but devotion to her sons that had kept Edith at the
vicarage. Edith’s loyalty to her feckless husband had in Beatrice’s view been unacceptable,
and now providence had taken over from missionary fervour.
***
“Dorothy, have you heard
the news?” Edith sniffed into the phone.
“What’s the matter, Edith.
No I haven’t,” said Dorothy.
“Frederick has been killed
in a plane crash,” said Edith.
“What? That’s terrible. Do
you want me to come over?”
“Yes, please,” said Edith.
“I’m sorry to bother you.”
“It’s no bother at all.
I’ll be over as quickly as I can.”
***
“You shouldn’t have told
her that, Edith. We don’t even know if he was on that plane,” said Beatrice.
“I can’t think of any
reason why he wouldn’t be,” said Edith.
“We were going to wait
for news from Cleo,” said Beatrice. “Now you’ve upset Dorothy.”
“She would have
wanted me to tell her, Beatrice.”
“But you don’t know,
Edith.”
Beatrice was getting
exasperated. Up to now she had been patient and kind during this visit, but she
did have a sneaking understanding for her brother’s attitude to his wife.
***
The phone rang. It was
Cleo again.
“Listen carefully, Edith,”
said Cleo. “Better still, give me Beatrice.”
Edith obediently passed
the handset on.
“No need for hysteria,
Beatrice, that’s why I’m telling you. Frederick did not check in at the airport
so he was not on that plane. Look at the confirmation in case it’s in a
different name.”
“Why would he use a
different name, Cleo?” said Beatrice.
“Don’t ask me.”
“Just a minute.
Edith can get it.”
Beatrice held her hand
over the phone speaker and instructed Edith to fetch the flight confirmation.
It was definitely in the name of Frederick Parsnip.
***
“Cleo? Still there? The
confirmation is in my brother’s name. No doubt about that.”
“Then you can assume
that he is alive and well and will probably turn up somewhere shortly.”
“He’s not dead,”
Beatrice whispered to Edith.
Into the phone she said “That’s good news, Cleo. He can get his divorce after all.”
“You don’t say he’s actually getting a divorce, Beatrice,”said
Cleo and added suprisingling “Edith will be thrilled.”
“I don’t think she will, Cleo, but it might explain why he
did not get on that plane,” said Beatrice.
“There’s no point in speculating,” said Cleo.
“Dorothy is on her way here. I hope she deal with Edith’s
strange reaction to it all.”
The question bothering
Cleo and Beatrice was :Why would the vicar go to such lengths to leave and then
not leave after all?
“Edith might know when
she calms down,” said Beatrice.
“Not that it really
matters,” said Cleo. “Phone me back if you need to contact the flight company,
Beatrice, but they apparently do not know why he did not check in.”
***
Dorothy arrived just at
that moment, so she was greeted with the good news.
“I don’t believe it. He
was dying to get to Africa,” she said.
“Or he was dying to get
away from Upper Grumpsfield,” said Beatrice.
“Does he have a reason,
Edtih?” Dorothy asked astutely. “She had observed shades of intimacy between
Edith and Robert at the BBQ.
“Well, I…” Edith started
and shut up when Beatrice gave her a very angry look.
“So where is he now?”
Dorothy asked.
“We don’t know,” said
Edith and Beatrice together.
“Didn’t he drop any hints?
He must have had a plan.”
“Perhaps he had a car
accident,” said Edith, suddenly convinced that that was what had happened.
“Mr Grisham is odd ,”
said dorothy. “I wouldn’t get in a car with him, and I’m over seventy.”
“It was kind of him to
give Frederick a lift,” said Edith. “No one else wanted to.”
“That’s as may be,”
scoffed Dorothy. “We are sure that Mr Grisham would have taken the most direct
route since he would not want to be late, so we’ll phone the police and ask if
there’s been a car accident. Did Frederick wear his dog-collar to travel,
Edith?”
“Oh yes, Dorothy. He
always wore I mean wears his dog-collar.”
“Then it should not be
difficult to identify him, even if he is dead in a ditch somewhere,” said
Dorothy.
***
Edith howled. She
sounded like a paid mourner. Beatrice was disgusted with the blatant histrionics.
Edith had spent the night having sex with the family butcher and now she was
wailing about a man she was only too glad to see the back of. What hypocrisy!
“Unless he removed it,”
said Beatrice. “The dog-collar, I mean, and stop howling, Edith!”
“Why would he do that?”
Dorothy asked, also thinking that Edith was exaggerating her grief beyond
tolerance level, especially as she now knew that the vicar had survived by
default.
“Search me,” said
Beatrice.
***
Dorothy phoned the
police. Had there been an accident between Upper Grumpsfield and Heathrow
airport?
“Now you’re asking,”
said a rather cocky operator. “Do you know how many car accidents there are in
a day, Miss?”
“I didn’t ask how many.
I just need to know about one,” said Dorothy.
“Car registration?” the
operator asked.
“I don’t know, but a Mr
Grisham was driving our vicar to the airport,” explained Dorothy.
“Driver and
passenger, then,” said the operator.
“Yes,” said
Dorothy.
“Hold the line,
please,” Dorothy was instructed.
“About 25 repeats of the
standard waiting jingle later, the operator called out “Still there, then?”
“You told me to wait,”
said Dorothy.
“No accident like the one
you described, Miss. Will that be all?”
“I suppose so,” said
Dorothy as the line went dead.
“No accident,” repeated
Dorothy.
“They can’t have
disappeared into thin air,” said Beatrice.
“Can’t they?” said
Dorothy. “We’d better get Gary in on this. I’ll phone Cleo and she will get
things moving.”
“Thank you, Dorothy.
What would I do without you?” said Edith.
“Start thinking, Edith.
Think what could have happened to Frederick.”
***
Chief Inspector Gary Hurley of Middlethumpton police was
having a relaxing Monday with Cleo at the cottage that was now his home. His
job would have required him to be at HQ had he not had his efficiant assistant
Nigel to take care of office business. Gary had loads of reports to write and
could do that at home.
Gary preferred home to HQ not least owing to the novelty of
living in perfect harmony with the woman he declared to be the love of his
life, who had now signed the divorce papers organized by Robert and was waiting
eagerly for the day she and Gary would be free to marry. What had started out
as a flirt and become an intermittent affair was now an unshakeable status quo.
***
After Dorothy’s appeal, Cleo
was in something of a quandary, not because of Frederick’s apparent failure to
carry out his plan to fly to Africa, but because she had received an anonymous
phone call quite early that morning. She had been nestling in Gary’s arms at
the time, so it was really odd timing to hear from the anonymous caller that
Edith had spent the night with her ex husband. While being glad that he was now
concentrating on the person Dorothy had predicted would be the right partner
for Robert, Cleo did not believe that Edith would have done such a thing the
night before Frederick left, if at all.
Robert would surely not
have encouraged Edith, but people don’t always do what one has mentally planned
for them or even what they have planned for themselves, she reflected.
Cleo wanted Robert to be
happy and she wanted Edith to be happy. But did she want them to be happy
together? Was it a good idea for them to even try?
When she tried to
discuss with Gary who could have made that anonymous phone call, he told her he
had better things to do than talk about her ex and could she please shut up and
come back under his duvet. Edith had waited long enough for Frederick Parsnip
to leave for Aftrica. Surely she could have waited another day rather than
putting the cat among the pigeons by jumping the guns!
“We’d bett get up,” Cleo
proposed.
“I’ve got a free day,
especially so that we can catch up a bit,” Gary protested.
“No time, Gary. You’ll
have to do something.”
“What?”
Since Cleo had showered
and dressed, Gary resigned to his fate and took a hot shower. Then he drifted into
the living-room with his bath towel wrapped Egyptian style round his haunches
to find some coffee and bite of breakfast.
“I really like that
shower radio,” he said. “I can sing much better if someone else is playing the
tune.”
“I heard,” said Cleo,
refraining from telling him that his singing had not improved at all. He was
not to know that she had bought the shower radio to discourage his singing
rather than to encourage it.
***
“You look like the
Egyptian soldier in Charlie’s history book, Gary.”
“I’m not wearing a
helmet or carrying a spear,” he protested jokingly. “I couldn’t look sideways
if my eyes were looking to the front.”
“I expect that could be
arranged,” said Cleo.
Gary flicked through the
pages of the history book that had been left on the dining table.
“I’m really quite glad I’m
not in a coffin like those in the British Museum. I’d like to know why they
print such gruesome pictures in books for 10 year olds.”
“Education,” said Cleo.
“They keep away from photos of skulls and bones for a while longer.”
***
“I could leave the towel off, of course,” said Gary. “Then
the Egyptian look would be a thing of the past.”
“It’s too cold for that,” said Cleo. “I don’t want to have
to nurse you through pneumonia.”
“I’d like that,” said Gary.
“Charlie asked me if I
would mind being her other mother now we are a family.”
“She can hear PeggySue
intoning ‘Mama’,” said Gary. “I’d love you to be her mother, Cleo.”
“I love Charlie, Gary. I’ll adopt her as soon as possible.”
“I want PeggySue to be
mine, Cleo, if she isn’t already.”
Cleo had already decided
to get a DNA test. She would ask Chris Marlow, the head of the forensic
department at HQ. Now she and Gary were living together it was really important
to know. PeggySue didn’t really look like any of them except that her skin was
darker than Charlie’s, but considerably lighter than Cleo’s.
***
It was not until Cleo
had established that Frederick Parsnip had not been on the Africa plane that
she and Gary had time to talk about it. They came to no conclusion other than
that the vicar had by some stroke of fate (or was it luck or even good
management?) missed the connection. Gary thought was quite likely that missing
the plane had been deliberate. Frederick Parsnip was jittery and
inconsequential.
***
Dorothy rang.
“I called the traffic police,”
she said. “There was apparently no accident involving a parson on the route to
the airport. I just wondered if Gary could check on that.”
“He’s sitting right
here,” said Cleo. “Would you like to talk to him?”
“Not necessary,” said
Dorothy. “But it might be a good idea to call Grisham’s wife and find out if
Grisham has returned home yet.”
“That’s a good
idea, Dorothy. I’ll do it now.”
“Call me back, Cleo, but on my mobile.
I’m going to the vicarage to take some of the pressure off Beatrice.”
***
“Dorothy has put more
thought into this than we have, Gary,” said Cleo as she kneaded Gary’s
hunched-up shoulders. “Sit up straight or you’ll be hobbling like an old man
soon,” she told him.
“Dorothy is closer to
Frederick than we are,” said Gary, ignoring Cleo’s comment, but enjoying the
fuss she was making.
“But he annoys her
and I’ve heard her scolding him.”
“People do that and stay
friends,” said Gary wincing as Cleo kneeded his neck muscles. “You boss me
around sometimes, Cleo.”
“Do I? I don’t mean
to.”
“But you can’t
shake me off. I’m here to stay.”
“I’m counting on
that,” said Cleo, massaging Gary’s shoulders even harder.
“Better now?”
“The good thing
about pain is that it’s great when it stops.”
“You could put some clothes on while I phone Mrs Grisham,”
said Cleo.
“I’ll think about it,” said Gary. “Next time you decide to
knead something, why don’t you make bread?”
“There’s nothing erotic about bread, Gary, and I love
massaging your shoulders.”
“I did notice. All the better to hug you with.”
“Not now, Gary!”
“I’ll give you exactly 7 minutes,” he said.
***
Cleo found Grisham’s
phone number and dialled. Someone with a very high voice answered.
“This is Polly
Grisham,” it announced.
“Can you get your
mummy to the phone, dear,” said Cleo.
“I am the mummy,”
said the squeaky voice. “What do you want?”
“Sorry,” said
Cleo. “Is your husband at home?”
“I don’t know. He
lives downstairs and I live up.”
“Oh. Could you
check?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Cleo Hartley
of the Hartley Detective Agency.”
“Are you? What do
you want, Miss Harley?”
“Hartley. I just
need to know if Mr Grisham is at home.”
“Has he been out?”
said Mrs Grisham.
“He took the vicar to the airport, Mrs
Grisham,” Cleo explained, surprised that there seemed to be no communication
between the Grishams even though they lived in the same house.
“I don’t know anything
about that,” said Mrs Grisham. “ Mr Grisham doesn’t tell me what he’s doing,
and I don’t tell him, for that matter.”
“Can you do me a
favour, Mrs Grisham?”
“What favour?”
“Can you check if
his car is in the drive or the garage?”
“I’ll do that.
Just a minute.”
Polly Grisham went
to the front window and looked.
“Are you still
there, Miss Harley?”
“Hartley. Is the car
there?”
“No, it isn’t, and it
can’t be in the garage because that’s where he plays with his trains, Miss
Harley.”
“Hartley. I won’t keep
you any longer, Mrs Grisham.”
“Good. I have better
things to do than wonder what Malcolm is up to.”
***
“That was a really odd
phone-call,” she told Gary, who had returned to the warmth of his duvet. “The
car belonging to that guy who took Frederick Parsnip to the airport has not
returned home. There may have been some kind of accident after all.”
“I’ll get onto it,” said Gary sighing.
He was resigned to having to take an interest in what was getting Cleo quite
worked up.
“We don’t have the
registration number,” said Cleo.
“No problem,” said Gary.
Within minutes he had had both the car registration and information that an
incident involving that car had been traced. Gary was a lot more serious when
he told Cleo what he had just heard.
“You aren’t going to
believe this, Cleo, but that car did not even reach the motorway. It was found
in a lane a few miles down the road half an hour ago.”
“Oh, my goodness.
What about the passengers?”
“They only found
one. It was someone wearing a dog-collar.”
“That must be
Frederick.”
“The man was dead,
Cleo.”
“That’s all we
need.”
“They’ll need witnesses.
I think we should get there. I might be able to do something useful even though
it’s myfree day.”
“Why didn’t they phone
the vicarage? Mr Parsnip must have had all his documents with him.”
“Hadn’t you phoned and asked about car accidents? They
probably had you number and hone back.”
“They can’t have found
any documents on the corpse,” said Gary.
“It sounds odd,” said
Cleo. “Presumably Frederick was on the front passenger seat, so where is
Grisham?”
“I expect they are
looking for him. I think the problem is that the guy they found had been dead
for hours.”
“So the Grisham guy
might have been able to get out of the car and wander off.”
“He may have had concussion,
Cleo. Let’s get going. We’ll learn more on the spot.”
“But Grisham would have ween driving, Gary. He must have
pushed Frederick onto the driver’s seat. How callous!”
***
Gary rang the road
patrol to say they were on their way, ascertained that no ID documents had been
found anywhere near or in the car, got a description of exactly where the car
was and checked that someone responsible would be there waiting. The car was
not to be moved until they had identified the vicar.
“That’s fine by me,” said
the patrol officer.
***
“I don’t think we should
tell Edith just yet,” said Cleo.
“You’re right, though what
we know already is pretty conclusive.”
***
Cleo rang Gloria to get
her to pick up PeggySue from nursery school and be at the cottage in case
Charlie came home before they did. Gloria asked a lot of questions, none of
which Cleo answered.
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