‘You won’t believe what I found out over the weekend,’ countered Jude. ‘I found out things about your friend Adrian Greenford.’
‘Oh, I’m not interested in him,’ said Carole. Then, after a slight pause. ‘What did you find out about him?’
‘It’s more about his wife Gwyneth. She—’
Carole changed her priorities. ‘But I actually saw Malee Shefford.’
‘You did?’ The awe in Jude’s voice was very rewarding.
‘Yes,’ said Carole calmly. ‘She told me what was in Bill Shefford’s will.’
‘Did she actually show it to you?’
‘No.’ And Carole recreated the conversation she had had with Malee the day before. ‘So, will you do it?’ she asked at the end.
‘What, you mean tell Shannon what was in the will?’
‘Yes.’
‘She’ll think it pretty odd, coming from me. And I can’t begin to imagine how her mother will react. Or perhaps I can, all too accurately. I don’t think Rhona Hampton is ever going to be persuaded that there’s any good in Malee.’
Knowing Jude’s love of conciliation, Carole pleaded, ‘It might start some kind of rapprochement between them. Make Shannon at least realize that her stepmother wasn’t just a gold-digger.’
‘I suppose it might.’ Jude didn’t sound convinced. ‘I think I’ll have to get Shannon on her own. Any mention of Malee’s name in Rhona’s presence will just unleash another burst of xenophobia.’
‘See what you can do,’ Carole pleaded.
‘I’ll try.’
‘Have you got another session booked with Rhona?’
‘This afternoon.’
‘The perfect opportunity.’
‘Maybe. Of course, you realize, Carole, if this is a murder investigation we’ve embarked on …’
‘Please say it is.’
‘… and if anyone did know Bill Shefford’s intentions – you know, that he meant to leave the garage to Billy … well, it knocks the motives of a few of our suspects on the head, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes, I suppose it does. Anyway, do your best this afternoon and let me know what happens.’
‘Of course I will. And now,’ said Jude, still slightly aggrieved, ‘I’m going to make myself a cup of tea and see if I can get a couple more hours’ sleep.’
‘You do that. Oh, and incidentally, how was your conference?’
‘Very enjoyable.’ She couldn’t keep a giggle out of her voice as she said, ‘I’m not sure it would have been your sort of thing.’
‘I’m absolutely certain it wouldn’t,’ said Carole, with some force. ‘And how were your … friends?’
‘In very good form.’
‘Good,’ said Carole icily.
‘Ah yes, and I almost forgot. I must tell you what they told me about Adrian and Gwyneth Greenford.’
Which is exactly what Jude did. Much to Carole’s amazement.
Rhona Hampton’s palliative care was not exclusively Jude’s responsibility. She was also under the watchful monitoring of her GP, which suited Jude very well. It had never been her view that what she did was in conflict with conventional medicine. Though she had achieved remarkable curative results by healing alone, she had always been happy to regard her skills as complementary to more traditional treatments.
As the old woman’s pain level mounted, the GP had slowly been increasing her morphine dosage. This was administered by Shannon. Her mother could still manage to take the medication orally, though in time a syringe pump might be required. There was no doubt that Rhona Hampton’s condition was worsening but, as her remaining time on earth dwindled, she still never mentioned death.
One effect of the medication was that Rhona slept more. She still welcomed Jude’s visits and managed to vent some spleen against her usual targets, particularly Malee, but the outbursts didn’t last so long. She was tiring, and the relaxation produced by the healing soon brought her the release of sleep.
This was very convenient for Jude. With her client out of it for the time being, it was quite logical for her to step into the Waggoners kitchen, where Shannon was preparing her children’s supper. The kitchen itself was functional rather than modern. No islands. It probably hadn’t changed much since the Sheffords moved into the house. Stuck to the fridge door was the usual gallery of children’s drawings.
Billy’s wife looked up anxiously from the pizza dough she was rolling out. ‘Getting weaker, isn’t she?’
Jude nodded agreement. She had never believed in sugar-coating unarguably bad news, particularly when dealing with a realist like Shannon Shefford. ‘But she doesn’t seem to be in much pain,’ she said.
‘Thanks to you for that.’
Jude shrugged. ‘I think the morphine’s doing as much as I am.’
‘No, you’re really helping. She looks forward to your visits. With the GP, it’s all done remotely. Mum hasn’t actually seen a doctor since she’s been unable to get to the surgery. They don’t do home visits any more. Mum just talks on the phone to him – or her; she never seems to get the same one. And, recently, I’ve been doing most of the talking to the surgery. Mum’s not really up to it.’
‘Remotely or not, the GP does seem to be getting the dosage right.’
‘I suppose so. Controlling the pain. That’s all that can be done now.’ Shannon was seized by a sudden burst of emotion and turned away towards the sink as she said, ‘I don’t know how I’ll manage when Mum finally does go. I’ll miss her terribly. I know she can be a bit of a cow at times, and she’s horrible to Billy, but I’ve always loved her to bits.’
‘I’m sure she’s loved you too.’
‘Yes. No worries about that.’ She was caught by a new spasm of grief. ‘And the thought of organizing another funeral, so soon after Bill’s …’ Her words were drowned in deep, torso-shuddering sobs.
Jude saw an opening. ‘I gather Malee was at Bill’s funeral.’
‘She couldn’t not be, could she? She was technically his wife.’
‘More than “technically”.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She was his wife – full stop.’
‘All right.’ The distinction didn’t seem important to Shannon.
‘And I gather, at the funeral, no one spoke to her.’
‘So? Are you asking me to apologize for that? Feel sorry about it? We’re talking about a woman who parachuted herself into our family and ruined everything!’
‘Have you ever talked to her, Shannon?’
‘Not more than I have to. Why should I? Would you talk to someone who destroyed your husband’s future?’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that, until Malee appeared on the scene,’ the name was marinated in contempt, ‘everyone knew that Bill was going to leave the garage to Billy. Now Bill’s dead and that foreign tart is going to inherit everything.’ Clearly, Shannon could match her mother when it came to xenophobia.
‘I heard that you asked Malee if you could search her house for Bill’s will.’
‘Yes, I did. And she refused to let me.’
‘A friend of mine knows for certain that Bill did actually make a will.’
‘Of course he did. That’s why Malee wouldn’t let me look for it.’
‘Sorry, I’m not with you.’
‘Bill made a will leaving the garage to Billy. When I asked to look for it, that alerted her.’
‘Alerted her to what?’
‘To the danger of me finding it. Nobody’ll find it now.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She will have destroyed it.’
‘Malee?’
‘Yes, of course. I should never have suggested that she look for it.’
‘Sorry, Shannon, you’re going too fast for me here. What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying that somewhere in the house where Bill lived for most of his adult life there was a copy of the will he made leaving the garage to Billy. Once I alerted Malee to that idea, she found it and destroyed it.’