Carole sighed at the pointlessness of the exercise, but in the tradition of endless Hollywood movies, followed the car in front. It wasn’t very difficult. The prevalence of road bumps and assiduous traffic police, combined with the overwhelming sedateness of Fethering, meant that nobody ever drove fast there. And, unlike a character from a Hollywood film, Theo appeared to have no suspicion that the women in the Renault pootling along behind him had any ulterior motive. He wasn’t about to break into a routine of sudden reversing and screeching tyres.
“I don’t know why we’re doing this,” Carole repeated grumpily.
“Just a hunch. But if you’d rather be making an organic potato salad…”
“Huh.”
The route Theo’s Fabia was taking led out of Fethering in the direction of Bognor Regis, which was a mild surprise. Because of his gayness, Carole and Jude had expected him to gravitate towards Brighton. But, fair enough, there are gay men in Bognor Regis too.
That wasn’t where he was going, though. He suddenly indicated and turned right off the A259 towards Yapton. No reason why he shouldn’t. Maybe that was where he lived. There were almost certainly gays in Yapton too.
But his destination was not a private house. The Fabia turned into the impressive drive of Yeomansdyke, a luxury hotel and health spa which Jude had visited when she was investigating the murder of Walter Fleet, owner of a nearby livery stables.
“What shall I do?”
“Drive in. Keep following him.”
With bad grace, Carole did as instructed. By the time they reached the hotel car park, the Fabia was parked and Theo was walking towards the spa entrance. The Renault was neatly guided into a parking bay, but Carole didn’t turn off the engine. “What’re we supposed to do now?”
“I don’t know.” Jude was almost girlishly irresponsible, knowing that her attitude was irritating her neighbour, but blithely incapable of changing it. “Odd place for him to come, though, isn’t it?”
“It’s a free country. People can go where they want to go.”
“Yes, but he’s just walked into the spa like he’s a regular. The membership for this place is seriously expensive. I can’t think he pays for that on what he makes as a hairdresser.”
“He may not be a member. He could just have come here to meet someone.”
“Yes, but you’d have thought, if he was going to do that, he’d go in the main hotel entrance. That’s where the bars and places are. Not so likely to meet someone in the leisure centre. I don’t think the Yeomansdyke spa is like a New York bathhouse.”
Carole didn’t get the reference. “Well, I don’t know,” she said huffily. “All I do know is that I feel a complete idiot sitting here in the car, like I was some police detective on a stake-out.”
“Well, if you imagine that’s what you are…does that make it any easier?”
“No.” Carole switched off the ignition. “Ten minutes we’re going to wait here. If he doesn’t come out within ten minutes, we’re going.”
“But look, if he’s come here for a swim, or a work-out in the gym…well, that’s going to take him more than ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes,” Carole reiterated firmly, and folded her arms behind the steering wheel. She wished she had brought the Times crossword with her on this wild goose chase. There were three clues in the top left-hand corner she hadn’t managed to complete yet.
They didn’t have to wait ten minutes. In just over five Theo emerged from the Yeomansdyke spa entrance, and moved briskly across towards his Fabia.
He was unrecognizable. Gone were the tinted glasses and the black gear. Now he was dressed in beige chinos and a light tweed sports jacket. His whole body language had changed too. There was no longer any feyness, but a firm resolution in his stride.
“What on earth…?” breathed Carole.
“Wait till he gets back into the car, then follow him,” said Jude.
They watched the Fabia parked in front of them for what seemed an inordinately long time. Then their attention was drawn by the gunning of a powerful engine. They turned as one to see a silver BMW sports car speeding past them out of the car park. At the wheel, unaware of their presence, was the new Theo.
By the time they reached the road at the end of the Yeomansdyke drive, the car had disappeared, whether to the right or left they had no idea.
Seventeen
As the Renault nosed its way back along Fethering High Street, Jude suddenly shouted, “Park!”
“What?” demanded Carole, obeying nonetheless. She brought the car to a halt behind a muddy Land Rover. The back was sticking out and she began to manoeuvre so that the wheels should be exactly parallel to the kerb.
“Don’t bother with that.”
“But I must. I hate messy parking. What is this, Jude?”
“When we went past the salon, I noticed Connie was in there on her own.”
“So?”
“Well, we can go in and ask her about Theo.”
“Just ask her? Just like that?”
“Yes, of course. Why not?”
“It’s a bit obvious, isn’t it?”
Jude sighed with exasperation. “And what’s wrong with the obvious? We ask Connie about Theo. There’s probably nothing sinister in what he’s doing. There’ll be a perfectly simple explanation. We ask her and she tells us.”
“But we can’t just walk in. She’ll think it’s odd.”
“No, she won’t. She owns a hairdressing salon. People walk in and out all the time.”
“But not without an appointment.”
“Carole, are you coming?”
“I should really be getting back to Gulliver…”
“Fine. You do that.” There were times, thought Jude as she opened the car door, when being friends with Carole could be quite difficult. “Do you mind taking my vegetables? I’ll drop by and pick them up later.” She was tempted to say she’d drop by ‘without an appointment’, but restrained herself. Carole agreed she’d take the vegetables.
Jude looked back just before she reached the salon. Carole had straightened up the Renault first, made sure it was exactly parallel to the kerb, before driving it out of the space on the way back to High Tor. Her neighbour shook her head in bewilderment.
As Jude entered Connie’s Clip Joint, Barbra Streisand was trembling from the CD, doing one of those misleadingly quiet bits which always presages a full-volume screech. Connie herself was sitting with a cappuccino and a Hello! magazine, looking as though she hadn’t a care in the world.
“Hi. Good to see you. Like a coffee?”
“Please.” So much for Carole’s worries about not having an appointment. Jude wasn’t even sure that she needed a cover story, but just to be on the safe side, she produced the one she’d quickly prepared. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about Theo…”
“Yes?” Connie called from the back room by the coffee machine where she was preparing Jude’s cappuccino.
“I was talking to someone who was asking about hairdressers who might come and visit…you know, cut their hair at home. I know you told me you don’t do that. I was wondering if Theo ever ‘makes house calls’.”
“Don’t think he does. He’s never mentioned it.”
“I suppose it’d depend a bit where it was…you know, if it was near his home…”
“Maybe.” Connie came back into the salon and closed the back room door. “There’s your coffee.”
“Thanks.” Jude took a sip and wiped off the moustache of froth before asking, “Where does he live, actually?”
Connie looked surprised by her own reply. “Do you know, I don’t actually know.”
“Really? But if he’s a member of your staff…”
“No, I thought I told you.”
“Oh, that’s right. He rents the chair.”