NORMALLY A METHODICAL girl, Katya found herself muddling up her personal possessions, putting books in with boots and makeup in her wash bag. Her mind was not on the job, she told herself. She could think of little else but the exciting prospect of having Gus Halfhide sleeping in her room for two whole weeks. She would be able to pop in to see him, and help him down the stairs when he was ready. She would bake cookies for him from the recipe book her mother had insisted on giving her, sure that in England her daughter would find nothing nice to eat and consequently starve.
Finally her room was empty of all belongings, sparkling clean and cool, with fresh curtains billowing in the breeze from the open window. Mrs. Spurling had said that Mrs. Bloxham would be bringing Mr. Halfhide from the hospital to Springfields around eleven o’clock. “It is kind of you, Katya,” she had said, “to give up your room. I will make sure he is gone after the two weeks. Miss Beasley is insisting on paying for the room while he is here, so I have decided to give this extra fee to you. It will be a nest egg for you.”
Never mind about nest eggs! thought Katya. She had seen some really lovely clothes in Tresham’s finest shop. How nice of Mrs. Spurling! She would work extra hard to please her.
“Oh, just one more thing,” Mrs. Spurling said. “I shall be glad if you will keep the matter of the extra money to yourself, Katya. Have you understood? Do… not… tell… anybody… about… the… extra… money… I… shall… be… giving… you,” she added with emphasis. “The others might be jealous.”
Katya nodded and said she understood. She did understand the words, but had no idea why she had to keep it secret. Still, that was no problem for her. She shut the door on the immaculate room and went downstairs and into the garden. A few roses would cheer him up, she was sure.
DEIRDRE HELPED GUS into the passenger seat of her car, and covered his legs with a soft tartan rug.
“For God’s sake, Deirdre!” he said. “I only had a bash on the head! And it’s not as if we’re in the middle of winter. Here, fold it up and keep it for the next deserving case.”
Deirdre laughed. “Make the most of it, Gus,” she said. “The charitable impulse is soon exhausted. Now, back to Barrington,” she said. She looked at her watch. “Just time for a quick gin at Tawny Wings before I surrender you to the care of Mrs. Spurling.”
“Better not,” he answered. “I don’t want to arrive smelling of gin. Ivy’s bound to notice, if nobody else does. No, we’ll have a celebration drink this evening. Is alcohol allowed?”
“Not sure,” said Deirdre, “but if it’s not, our Ivy will change the rules. She’s developed a taste for a small sweet sherry before supper.”
They talked idly on the way back to Barrington, speculating on who Gus’s intruder might be. “You haven’t told us much about your past,” Deirdre said bluntly. “What exactly did you do?”
“I told Miriam, and I thought I had told you. No mystery about it. I was an investigative journalist, among other things.”
Deirdre laughed. “Yeah, and what else?” she said.
Gus looked at her. “I’m telling the truth, Deirdre,” he said. “I was working undercover. Sworn to secrecy of course. Solemn oath, and all that. But I made a few enemies on the way.”
“So you think one of them might be after you?” Deirdre could still not be sure she believed him.
“Possible,” said Gus. “It’s happened before.”
“Is that why you came to Barrington? Hiding away from trouble?”
“There’s never a real hideaway,” he said, “but yes, I did think our village would be remote enough, especially if I kept my head down. Ho hum!”
“You reckoned without the gossips network. It was all round the village a couple of days after you arrived. Anybody in the shop or the pub could have picked up all the details of the new tenant in Hangman’s Row. The one with the funny name. Is it your real name, by the way?”
“Don’t ask,” replied Gus. “I’ve had so many, I’ve forgotten which is the real one.”
They drew up outside Springfields, and Deirdre helped Gus out of the car. “Just look a bit feeble,” she whispered in his ear, “else old Spurling will have you out on your ear, Ivy or no Ivy.”
A small reception committee awaited Gus. Mrs. Spurling stood with a fixed smile, while on her left was Katya, with a dazzling smile, and on her right, Ivy looked on impassively as Deirdre manoeuvred Gus through the swing doors.
“Welcome, Mr. Halfhide,” greeted Mrs. Spurling, as Katya rushed forward to help a wobbly-looking Gus. Ivy’s voice was sharp as she said that she was sure that Gus would prefer not to be fussed. “After all,” she added, echoing his own words, “he only had a bang on the head.”
“There is always a danger of concussion,” Mrs. Spurling reprimanded Ivy. “We can’t be too careful, can we, Mr. Halfhide?” She thought privately that the man was making the most of his opportunity, but Miss Beasley was paying well, so her protégé would get the best that Springfields could offer.
Gus himself was thinking that Ivy was quite wrong. He was looking forward to being fussed as much as possible, especially by young Katya. How pretty she looked, with her pink cheeks and hair neatly brushed into a ponytail! He took a couple of steps forward, and was surprised to find he genuinely felt weak. He accepted Katya’s arm gratefully, and Mrs. Spurling said he should go straight to his room. She would send up coffee and biscuits, and the two ladies could join him there, if they wished.
Deirdre took his other arm, and he winked at her. “So kind,” he murmured, and she squeezed his arm until it hurt. “Don’t overdo it,” she whispered, and they continued on their slow way up the stairs.
Katya vanished once Gus was settled, but reappeared ten minutes later with a tray of coffee. “Specially baked for you, Mr. Halfhide,” she said, handing round a plate of golden cookies.
“Does that mean we can’t have one?” Deirdre said, smiling.
“No, it means that Katya is following the aims of Springfields Residential Home, to make all its guests welcome and comfortable,” Ivy said severely.
The three investigators of Enquire Within chatted desultorily for a short while, and then Gus said, “Right. So where are we, ladies? Shall we have a summing up of the situation so far? Start with what we do know, and then we’ll make a plan for finding out what we don’t know. Would you like to begin, Ivy?”
“Augustus,” Ivy said gently, “you ain’t quite right yet, my dear. Since you went in to the hospital, Deirdre and me have spent time visiting you, arranging for you to come here for a bit, an’ I for one haven’t given much thought to Enquire Within.”
Deirdre nodded. “Most important thing is to get you better. I haven’t got anything new to report.”
Gus looked smug. “Well, I have,” he said. “A small thing like a bash on the head doesn’t bother Augustus Halfhide. Duty first, I was told when I first got into this investigating business.” Well, that was not far from the truth, he excused himself.
“So what secrets did the nursing staff of the hospital reveal to you?”
“It wasn’t a nurse. It was Miriam Blake,” he said with a smirk. “My delightful next-door neighbour. She came to see me, bearing red roses.”
“Coo-er!” said Deirdre.
“And as we talked of this and that, she mentioned that Beatrice Beatty is trying to get rid of her.”
“What!?” chorused Deirdre and Ivy.
“Oh, not that,” Gus said. “No, of course not, you sillies. No, she wants Miriam out of her cottage. The rent is small, from when her mother was alive. Now Beattie has first of all put up the rent to an astronomical amount-”
“So Miriam Blake said to me,” interrupted Ivy.
“-and Miriam can’t and won’t pay it. She has told Beattie she will see a lawyer if necessary. I think she is quite enjoying facing the Beatty woman.”
“What about Theo?” Deirdre asked. “Can’t he intervene?”
“Not according to Miriam. She says what we all know already, that Theo is putty in Beattie’s hands. He leaves everything to her.”
“Except his money, we hope,” said Deirdre. “Anyway, I’ll see what I can do next Saturday when I go to see him. I reckon the worm will just about have started to turn.”
“There’s more,” said Gus, helping himself to another cookie. “Miriam said she remembered Beattie in the early days. When she first came to the Hall she was mouse-like. Did exactly what she was told, and never ventured an opinion. There were rumours went round the village that there was something bad in her past. But gradually things changed, according to Miriam. Finally, Theo had more or less handed over everything to Beattie to manage, and it’s been like that ever since.”
Ivy sat up like a ramrod in her chair. “Did you say something bad in her past? Did Miriam say what it was?”
“I asked, but she said the rumour died down, and in the end got forgotten.”
“But not by Miriam,” Ivy said. “Write that down, Deirdre. Question for Miss Blake.”
“This is not a meeting, Ivy,” Deirdre said, checking on Gus, who was looking really tired now.
“Just a memo,” Ivy said blandly. “We might forget. Then we must leave him to get some rest. He’s beginning to look a bit peaky.”
Gus protested that he was fine, but Ivy was firm. “Come along, Deirdre,” she said. “I’ve had a letter from our cousin in Thailand I want to show you. See you later, Gus. You might feel like coming downstairs to meet Mr. Goodman. He’s eighty-six and has lived in Barrington all his life.”
Oh, how lovely, groaned Gus to himself, but then he remembered that Ivy was paying for all this, and he felt obliged to sing for his supper. “That would be very nice,” he said.
“WE HAVEN’T GOT a cousin in Thailand,” Deirdre said, as they went along to Ivy’s room.
“I know we haven’t,” Ivy said. “I just wanted to get you away. Poor Augustus was wilting.”
“Yes, well, he’s quite a tough flower,” Deirdre said huffily. “What do you really want?”
“I want to know if you are really visiting Theo Roussel this Saturday, because if you are, the weather forecast is not good and I am certainly not sitting on the seat outside the shop in the pouring rain so that you can cuddle up to the squire on the sofa.”
“Ivy!” Deirdre stared angrily at her, then suddenly burst out laughing. “You are a tonic, Ivy,” she said. “Thank goodness you decided to come and live in Barrington. You’d be wasted mouldering away in Ringford.”
“I don’t moulder,” said Ivy. “But I’ll give you this, Deirdre Bloxham, life at Springfields is very far from what I expected! And this is mostly due to Augustus. We two would have mouldered away, as you put it, in this village like any other village. WI, church, market day in town, whist and cribbage. Nothing more exciting than what I’ve been doing all my life. But now, well, you know…”
This was a long speech for Ivy, and Deirdre was amazed to see that she was actually blushing. Ivy blushing! What was it about Gus? she thought. He was not really conventionally attractive. Skinny body, thin gingery hair all over the place, oddly uncoordinated in his movement. But his smile was warm, and made you feel good.
“So,” said Ivy, back to her sharp self, “we must keep going. On second thoughts, I shall be able to shelter from the rain in the shop, and can see Beattie safely on the bus. And you must remember you’re at the Hall to find out as much as you can about Beattie before she came to work there. Theo must know a bit about it. He wasn’t always a recluse.”
“He certainly wasn’t,” said Deirdre. “Not by a long chalk. Leave him to me, Ivy. Enquire Within is on the war-path.”