‘She’s pure dotey on him, but I did get one thing out of all the drivel,’ Connolly said, ‘which was that he’s only been at Hillbrow since October ninety-eight, when he bought the place. It was a bit of a kip until then. The previous owners had let it run down, and he was the one that built it up to the piece o’ glory it is now. Before that he was working at another stables across the other side of Sarratt, place called Chipperfield—’
‘Which was where Amanda Sturgess said she and Rogers had their house,’ Slider remembered.
‘Is that so?’ said Connolly. ‘Well, that makes it interesting. Anyway, he’d been working at this stables, training horses, and competing himself, and then Hillbrow came on the market and he saw a chance to set up his own place and do it his own way. He’d his prize money saved, and he sold his house and used the money from that, but here’s the thing, guv – Andy says he also took on a partner, who put the rest of the cash up, but nobody knows who it is. He keeps it a secret, and it’s only his name on the headed paper, but Andy reckons it’s one of his sponsors who wants to keep his name out of the limelight.’
‘I thought the limelight was the whole point of sponsorship.’
Connolly shrugged. ‘She thinks it’s an eccentric millionaire, the looper! She didn’t like my suggestion at all, that it was a married woman he was having an affair with. Assured me her Robin wasn’t like that.’
‘You’re thinking it was Amanda put the money up,’ said Slider.
‘It crossed me mind. But there’s more. This one had to go back to work, but she’d said earlier that the Friths were an old Sarratt family. I said I’d settle the bill, and when she was gone I had a crack with the barman. I made out I was interested in local history and – well, long story short, he said I should have a word with this barmaid Maureen Hodges at The Boot, who knew everything about the place. So I went over there, got meself a jar, got into it with this Maureen, and struck gold.’
‘How did you open the subject?’
‘Oh, I didn’t need to. It turned out she had an Irish granny from Clare, and I let on my granddad was from the same place—’
‘That’s a coincidence.’
‘Well, he wasn’t. He was from Raheny, but what did she know? Anyway, after that she felt we were practically cousins, and it didn’t matter what I asked, she’d tell me, no charge. Janey, she was a babbling brook! But she knew all about the Friths and the Sturgesses.’
There’d been Friths in Sarratt since Moses was a lad, it turned out. The Sturgesses were comparative newcomers, arriving in the eighteenth century, but they were very well thought of. The Friths were farmers; the Sturgesses had private money, and as well as patronage had supplied two rectors over the period, and had built the village hall. The Knox bit had only recently arrived: Amanda’s mother had been a Knox and had wanted it tacked on, but local people sturdily rejected that piece of showmanship and refused to use more than Sturgess – which was perhaps why Amanda had reverted after the divorce.
Maureen had attended the local school with both Robin and Amanda, through infant and primary stages. After that she had gone to the local secondary, Amanda had gone private to St Mary’s girls’ school, and Robin had gone to Sarratt Grammar for Boys; but they’d still met up after school, at various local do’s and friends’ parties. As they grew older the social differences between them made themselves apparent: Robin’s family were well-to-do, Amanda’s a cut above that. Maureen’s father was only a shopkeeper, so she gradually drifted into her own set, and she left school at sixteen while the other two went on to the sixth form. But they all remained friendly, on village terms, and Maureen was witness to how things panned out.
‘She said it was always Robin and Amanda,’ Connolly told Slider, ‘from the nursery up. They did everything together. Everyone thought they would get married when they grew up. Well, these childhood romances don’t often work out, but the two of them just seemed to get closer. Then apparently when they were sixth form age, Robin threw a spanner in the works, saying he wanted to work with horses. Well, he’d always ridden – so had she – but to her it was just a hobby. She said he was an eejit – he’d never make any money at it, it was a waste of his brains. He said it was all he’d ever wanted. Eventually they had a big row about it. Maureen said Amanda gave out it was a menial job, working with animals, and he was better than that, and he took offence because his family were farmers and he thought she was looking down on them. So it was the big split, and she went off to university, while he went to do a horse management course at this posh residential place in Sussex.’
‘She said she went to Edinburgh to get as far away from her family as possible,’ Slider said. ‘But this story makes sense of that, too. And it would mean she was vulnerable to Rogers when she met him there.’
‘On the rebound?’ Connolly said. ‘Right. And him having the ambition to be a doctor – she’d have approved of that.’
‘What did Robin’s parents think about his career?’
‘They didn’t mind. There was another son, the older boy, to take over the farm, so Robin had to fare for himself somehow, and wanting to work with animals seemed normal to them. Maureen said she’d always though he’d become a vet, because he was so good with animals – could do anything with them, dogs never bit him and so on – but he just wanted to ride and train horses. Well, by the time Amanda came back from university, he’d got himself taken on at this stables in Chipperfield – which was quite a high-powered establishment from what Maureen said – and was competing and winning cups and all that carry-on, so he was happy enough. But your woman didn’t see it that way.’
‘I was under the impression that Amanda came back from Edinburgh already committed to Rogers,’ Slider said. ‘In love and wanting to marry, only the parents disapproved.’
‘Yes, sir, I read your notes. But Maureen tells a different story. She says Amanda came back with the doctor in tow all right, but she still wanted to take up with Robin again. Rogers was a fallback, just in case. She tried to get Robin to stop messing about with horses and better himself, but he wouldn’t. Maureen says he’s one of these quiet types that you think are a pushover but they’re stubborn as a donkey when they make their mind up. And in the end he wouldn’t do what she wanted, while the doctor did get on, so she married him instead.’
‘That sounds rather cold and calculating,’ Slider commented.
‘Well, sir, we’ve only Maureen’s word for it that it was that way, but the facts fit. And then she and Rogers buy a house in Chipperfield – that’s another one. And here’s the really interesting bit: she gets divorced, and no sooner does the Dirty Doctor move out, but your woman puts up the money for Robin to buy Hillbrow and get it in order.’
‘Ah, so she was the secret benefactor,’ Slider said. ‘You could have mentioned that when the subject first arose.’
‘And spoil the story?’ Connolly protested. ‘Isn’t it better this way? Anyway, the benefaction – is that the word? – is supposed to be secret, which is why she doesn’t appear on the website or the stationery. But of course Maureen knows the protagonists. In fact, given it’s a village, I should think everyone in Sarratt knows the secret. It’s probably only outsiders like the employees who’re kept in the dark.’