I was resting on one of our patio recliners practising Van Morrison’s ‘Have I Told You Lately’ for Mary’s party. I sat cross-legged, playing my guitar. I loved my guitar – it sounded awesome and was pretty much an extension of me. I played it so much that it looked kind of battered. My gran had bought me a guitar case for my birthday. Reluctantly, because she’d wanted me to learn piano. I’d gone for a few lessons, and knew the basics, but guitar was my first love. As I practised the song over and over, I wondered why Mary and Joe hadn’t ended up together. I was sure they would have made a sweet couple. I’d seen Sergeant Reynolds around the village, and had to admit he was more handsome, but Joe Clancy was so nice.
‘Jacki,’ said Mum. ‘I like that song, but if I hear it one more time I will have to bash you over the head with that guitar. Could you not play something different?’
‘Oh, I forgot to tell you,’ I said. ‘I have my first paid gig. I’m singing at Mary’s fiftieth. Remember you told me to be enterprising?’
‘That’s great! Congratulations! But you had that song perfect half an hour ago. Play me one of your own. I haven’t heard a new one in ages.’ Mum sat up and adjusted her sunglasses.
‘OK,’ I said, tuning my guitar. ‘By the way… I need new strings.’
‘So your first gig is costing me money?’ said Mum with a sigh.
‘I’ll pay you back.’
‘Go on then, let’s hear it.’
What had started as an upbeat love song had now morphed into a bleak ballad, but I sang it nonetheless.
‘This tough love is making me
Give up, it’s breaking me
Deep in the shadows I hide.
Love is a losing game,
Dirty cold ruleless game,
Lost in one blink of an eye.
“I love you” he said but my
Heart it still bled; this was
Pain I couldn’t ignore.
So no tears left my eyes when
I lay by his side and said,
“Baby, I love you no more.”’
‘Very nice, Jacki, good lyrics.’
‘Thanks, Mum!’
‘I almost forgot, can you go down to the shop to get stamps and post these letters for me?’ She rooted around in her handbag and pulled out two envelopes.
‘That’s it? That’s all you have to say about my song?’
‘You know I think all your songs are great. But I really have to get these in the post.’
‘Sorry, Mum, I can’t go down to the shop.’ I pulled the guitar strap off over my head and put the guitar back in its case.
‘Why, what’s up? Is something wrong?’
I wanted to tell her, but if I told her one thing I’d have to tell her everything. So I decided against it.
‘Long story,’ I said, zipping up the case.
‘Well, you can either go down to the shop or there’s a pile of dishes mounting up inside.’ I looked up at Mum, hoping she was joking, but her stare confirmed that she wasn’t.
‘Fine! I’ll go then.’
When I got to the door of the shop I took a deep breath, pushed it open and stepped inside. There was nobody there.
I heard some activity and voices out the back.
‘For God’s sake, Mary!’ a man’s voice bellowed from inside the storeroom. They mustn’t have heard me come in. My heart pounded. I stood still, behind one of the shelves, unsure of what to do next.
‘Michael, please… please just calm down,’ said Mary.
It was her husband who was yelling at her. Part of me wanted to quickly leave… to get as far away as possible, but another part of me needed to stay and listen.
‘How dare you… how dare you bring that murderer on to my premises?’
Murderer? Had I heard that right? Michael’s voice frightened me. It had a quality that made me shiver.
‘I didn’t ask him to come in. He just happened to be in the shop the morning it broke. Who told you that -’
‘Oh, so you didn’t think I’d find out?’
‘No… I…’ Mary’s voice was shaking. ‘He offered to help. I could hardly say no. He was only here for a few minutes… He fixed it in no time… I couldn’t afford to wait.’ Mary paused and then continued with slightly more force in her voice. ‘Besides there was never any proof that he -’
I heard a dull thud, something being thrown on the floor. Then I thought I heard a whimpering sound.
‘You know as well as I do…’ Michael was yelling, ‘he didn’t have an alibi for that night. Half the village knows he did it. That should be enough for you… What is it going to look like… you hiring him to fix our bloody freezer? A killer on my premises. You’re so stupid sometimes.’
There was silence.
‘You didn’t have one either,’ she said.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You didn’t have an alibi for that night either, Michael.’
There was another loud crash and Mary yelped.
‘How dare you,’ said Michael. ‘Keep your mouth shut. And if you ever invite Des Butler into this shop again, you will be very, very sorry.’
The storeroom door swung open and Sergeant Reynolds stormed out of the shop, completely ignoring me.
Moments later Mary emerged from the storeroom with her signature cheerful smile plastered across her face.
I needed to talk to someone about this. Fast. I bought the stamps and left in a hurry. I knocked on the door of the guesthouse but nobody answered. So I tried Lydia’s shop. I could hear The Cure blasting out from the speakers before I even opened the door. The workshop curtain was pulled back, and Lydia was at the sewing machine. She looked up, and must have seen the worried look on my face, because she turned off the stereo straight away.
‘Jacki, are you OK?’
‘No, I’m not really,’ I said. ‘I just heard something really upsetting.’
‘What’s wrong?’ said Lydia, hurrying over and putting her arm round my shoulders. I felt like I was going to faint. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. It took me a few seconds before I could get the words out.
‘Did Des Butler kill somebody?’ Saying it out loud made me feel even worse. ‘Who told you that?’ Lydia sounded kind of angry.
‘I overheard Sergeant Reynolds say something.’
‘Some people think he did,’ said Lydia. ‘But not everyone thinks so.’ She pulled out a stool from under her desk and offered it to me. I sat down, but still felt faint.
‘Why do they think that? Who did he kill? He’s working on my house. My mum has been on dates with him!’ I couldn’t understand why nobody had told us this.
‘He was a main suspect for Beth’s murder,’ said Lydia. ‘But no one in my family believes it. He would never have hurt Beth. Michael Reynolds’s opinion is not everybody’s opinion.’
‘Beth Cullen…?’ I couldn’t believe that Des was a suspect.
‘Yes.’ Lydia sat down on her swivel chair, weaving a piece of blue fabric between her fingers.
‘If he was a main suspect, then there must have been some reason -’
‘The partner is often a main suspect.’
‘Des and Beth were… together?’ This was too much. I just couldn’t believe it.
‘They were childhood sweethearts.’ Lydia smiled when she said this. I couldn’t understand why she was so calm. Surely, in this instance, a police officer’s opinion would be a good one to take? I didn’t particularly like Sergeant Reynolds, but he must have had a reason for suspecting Des.
This was crazy. Des was going out with my mum. I was pretty sure she really liked him. I just couldn’t understand why nobody had told us this sooner.
‘If he didn’t do it, then who did?’ I asked.
‘The killer hasn’t been found,’ said Lydia flatly. ‘But I know Des isn’t capable of murder. You and Rachel have nothing to worry about. He didn’t do it.’ She sounded so sure.
Nevertheless I couldn’t just ignore what I’d heard. I would have to tell Mum. How on earth was I going to tell her that the guy she really likes and has been dating was a suspected murderer?
I made the walk back home last as long as I could. I wanted to let Mum have a few more carefree minutes. Also, I had to decide the best way to tell her. She might think I was overreacting, exaggerating whatever I’d heard because I didn’t want her to go out with Des any more. She thought I didn’t like him. But the truth was I’d got to like him a lot and thought he was a really nice guy. I didn’t want Mum to go out with anyone, but I guess, if she was going to date, it might as well be someone like Des. That was before I’d gone into the shop of course. Before I’d overheard Sergeant Reynolds. I put in my earphones and played some music to help me focus. To help me figure out what I was going to say.
When I got back to the caravan Mum was crouched down, rooting through the cupboard.
‘I’m making pancakes,’ she said. ‘Want one?’
‘No, thanks,’ I answered. I took a deep breath.
‘Is there something up?’ she said, abandoning her search and standing up. She must have known there was something wrong as pancakes were a favourite of mine.
‘There’s something I have to tell you…’ The details all came pouring out: what I’d overheard in the shop and what Lydia had said. Mum’s eyes widened, and for a few seconds she said nothing. When she eventually spoke her reaction was pretty much the same as mine.
‘Why did nobody tell us this?’ she said, sitting down at the table and shaking her head in disbelief. She didn’t sound as angry as me – just really upset.
‘Not everybody thinks he did it,’ I said. ‘But Sergeant Reynolds seemed pretty sure he’s guilty. I think you should be careful, Mum.’
‘I will be,’ she answered. She went back to making pancakes and didn’t say anything else about it for the rest of the evening.