‘Answer the question,’ she demanded with a stare.
‘I just didn’t want you to think I was propositioning you or anything.’
‘And were you?’ she asked.
‘No, of course not,’ I said.
‘Oh thanks. Am I that unattractive?’
‘No. I didn’t mean that.’
‘We seem to be going round in circles here, Mister Barrister Man,’ she said. ‘So what did you mean?’
‘I thought it was going to be me asking you the questions,’ I said. ‘Not the other way round.’
‘OK,’ she said. ‘I’m ready. Ask away.’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Firstly, will you stay to dinner?’
‘Yes,’ she replied without hesitation.
‘Good,’ I said.
‘Are you married?’ she asked suddenly.
‘Why?’
‘I just wondered,’ she said.
I didn’t immediately respond.
‘Well, are you?’ she persisted.
‘Why do you want to know?’ I asked again.
‘Need to know where I stand,’ she said.
‘But I’m not propositioning you, so why does it matter?’ I said.
‘You might change your mind,’ she said. ‘And I can’t be bothered to invest any emotion unless I know where I stand. So, are you married?’
‘Are you?’ I asked her back.
‘Only to my job,’ she said. She waited a moment in silence. ‘Well?’
‘I was,’ I said slowly.
‘Divorced?’ she said.
‘Widowed.’
‘Oh.’ She was embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ I said. But it felt like only yesterday.
She sat silently as if waiting for me to go on. I didn’t.
‘Still painful?’ she asked.
I nodded.
‘Sorry,’ she said again. Some of the sparkle had gone out of her eyes.
We sat in silence for a while.
‘What do you want to know about Millie?’ she asked eventually.
‘Let’s go and eat,’ I said.
We opted for a table in the bar rather than in the restaurant. No tablecloth, less formal, but the same menu.
I chose a fillet steak while Eleanor decided on the pan-fried sea bream.
‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ I asked her.
‘I’m still driving,’ she said.
‘You could leave your car here,’ I said. ‘I’m sure the pub won’t mind if you leave it in their car park. I could drop you back at the hospital and you could collect it in the morning.’
‘How about you?’ she said. ‘What are you drinking?’
‘I’m on diet Coke but I’ll have a small glass of red with my dinner,’ I said. ‘I do have to drive. Back to London tonight.’ I had rented the car for only two days.
‘Couldn’t you stay down here and go in the morning?’ she said.
‘Are you propositioning me now?’ I asked.
She blushed. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
Pity, I thought, again surprising myself.
I could always have called Hertz to keep the car for another day, but somehow I felt that I was betraying my Angela even to contemplate spending the night away from home, especially in order to have a lengthy dinner with another woman. I told myself not to be such a fool, but I felt it nevertheless.
‘How well did you know Millie?’ I asked, changing the subject and saving us both some embarrassment.
‘Pretty well,’ she said. ‘We worked together at the hospital for three years and lived in the house together for most of that time.’
‘Do you know why she killed herself?’ I asked.
‘No idea,’ she said. ‘She seemed pretty happy to me.’
‘Did she have money worries?’ I asked.
‘No,’ Eleanor replied emphatically. ‘In fact she always seemed rather well off. She bought a brand-new red Mazda sports car the year before she died and she always had lots of nice clothes. I think her father still sent her an allowance, even though we all earn pretty good money at the hospital.’
I thought back to my earlier encounter with the Barlow parents in their ill-fitting clothes. Did they seem the sort of people who could afford to send their high-earning daughter an allowance?
‘Was she pregnant?’ I said. It was only a wild thought.
‘I think it highly unlikely,’ said Eleanor. ‘She used to boast that she had a good supply of the morning-after pill just in case she forgot to take her other pills. She was medically trained, remember.’
‘And medics have a higher suicide rate than almost every other profession,’ I said.
‘Do they?’ She seemed surprised.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I had to research the rates last year for a case where a doctor was accused of assisting a suicide.’
‘I suppose medics have the knowledge of how to take their own lives,’ she said.
‘Painlessly, you mean,’ I said.
‘Absolutely. Just like putting an old dog to sleep,’ she said. ‘They also have easy access to the necessary drugs.’
‘Did Millie get on with her brother?’ I asked.
‘Well enough, I think,’ she said. ‘But I don’t think he was too happy with her reputation.’
‘Reputation?’ I asked.
‘For being the easiest ride in the village.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Not really a reputation to cherish.’ Especially not in Lambourn, where riding was its lifeblood. ‘How many casual lovers would you say she had?’
‘At least half a dozen on the go at once,’ she said. ‘I think you could safely say that she wasn’t particularly discreet. Suffice to say she liked jockeys.’
‘Was Reno Clemens one of them?’ I asked.
‘Probably,’ she said. ‘I didn’t actually keep a list, but he was often around her. I sometimes saw them together in the pub.’
‘But you didn’t see him in her room?’ I said.
‘We have a sort of unwritten rule in the house,’ she said. ‘Long-term relationships are OK, but no casual partners to stay over. Needless to say, Millie broke it all the time. It was the only thing we argued about. But no, I can’t say I ever saw Reno there.’
‘How about Steve Mitchell?’ I asked. ‘Did he stay over?’
‘No never,’ she said. ‘Millie was always too keen to go to his place. She was always telling us about his hot tub.’ She lifted her eyebrows in disapproval.
‘Why exactly do you dislike Mitchell?’ I asked her.
‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘When I first came to Lambourn about ten years ago he was just starting as a jockey and we went out for a while. I thought he was serious but he wasn’t. He was two-timing me with some stable hand and, when the silly bitch got pregnant, he dumped me and married her.’ She paused. ‘I suppose she did me a favour really.’
‘How long did his marriage last?’ I asked.
‘About six years. They had two children and Steve became very successful. They built the Kremlin together.’
‘The Kremlin?’ I asked.
‘That’s what everyone calls that red-brick eyesore he now rattles around in on his own. When Natalie, his ex-wife, finally saw some sense and left him, he came back to my door and wanted to carry on as if nothing had happened. I told him to piss off and Steve didn’t like that. He likes to get his own way. I actually think he then made such a fuss over Millie to get back at me.’
So Steve’s affair with Millie Barlow hadn’t just been a fling as he had claimed, but had continued long after his wife had found out and left him. Mr and Mrs Barlow senior had been right, and Mitchell had indeed lied to me about it.
‘Didn’t Steve mind that she had other partners as well as him?’ I asked.
‘Mind? Are you kidding? According to Millie, Steve loved a threesome, or even more.’
‘Do you think she was telling the truth?’ I said.
‘You may have a point there. Millie was a good vet, very good in fact, but she was known to exaggerate things a tad.’
‘Do you remember a photo of her and a horse in a silver frame?’ I asked.
She nodded. ‘Her prized possession.’
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘It was a picture of her with a new-born foal,’ she said.