“She left hospital more than ten years ago. She married a farmer Dougie Furness of Black Law.”
“She lived at Black Law Farm?” He gave a sad little laugh. “I lead treks past there every summer. I might even have seen her in the distance. She must really have hated me not to have got in touch. She knew where I was. I wrote and told her when I bought the stables.”
“I think she just wanted to start again. New life, new identity.”
“I suppose I can understand that. Sometimes I just feel like running away.” He smiled. “All this money and investment scares me. My wife’s the business woman, though you wouldn’t think it if you met her.”
“But you started the stables soon after your father died. Your wife wasn’t involved then.”
“Then it didn’t seem like a business. I enjoyed horses so I bought a stable. That was all there was to it.”
“Why did you sell the butcher shops?”
“I hated being a butcher.” Charles Noble was looking out of the small window towards the river. “Father knew I hated it. I wanted to stay on at school. I had dreams of being a vet. I envied Bella for getting out.”
“But then she came back.”
“Yes. Poor Bella.”
“It sounds almost as if you hated your father too.” “Oh, I did,” Charles said. “I always had.”
There was a clatter of hoofs on cobbles as Andrea led her party of girls out on their ride.
“A week after the court case I was approached by a local businessman who made me an offer for the shops and the slaughterhouse. He wasn’t interested in keeping the butchery going. He wanted to develop the property and the land. I could probably have stuck out for more but I signed at once.” Charles paused. “He knocked down the slaughterhouse and built that office block by the river. He must have made a fortune over the years but he paid me enough to buy this place and that was all I wanted.”
“Was the business yours to sell?”
“Father left it to me, if that’s what you mean. There was a will. And I was a junior partner. The old man wouldn’t have liked it, but it was legal.”
“What about Bella?”
“She wasn’t involved in the business but I put the profit from the sale of Father’s house into a separate account in her name. She knew what I was doing. I wrote to tell her.”
“Did she ever use the money?”
“No, it’s still there.”
“Weren’t you ever tempted to use it yourself?”
He blinked up at Edie, hurt. “Of course not. I hoped one day she’d get in touch.”
“Her husband’s disabled. He needs constant nursing care.”
“So perhaps I could help with that.” He considered the idea, seemed pleased. “I should have made more effort to persuade Bella to see me but I was very young. The whole business with Father had been horrible. Not just the way he died I told you I could understand that.
But all the publicity that followed. I felt hounded. Everywhere I went people were talking. I suppose I turned into a bit of a recluse.
Horses were less complicated.
“Then I married and Louise, my wife, thought it would be foolish to get in touch with Bella. I’d told her about the case but she couldn’t really understand what led up to it. Her attitude was why get mixed up in it all now when people have forgotten about it. Bella could find me soon enough if she wanted to.”
“And she definitely didn’t try to contact you recently?”
“No. I wish she had.”
“If she had tried to contact you but got through to your wife instead, would Louise have passed on the message?”
“Of course.” But despite the reply he seemed uncertain. “What are these questions about?”
“Bella committed suicide, Mr. Noble. We think she was troubled. No one at Black Law knew about the manslaughter charge. She was living under an assumed name when she met Dougie Furness. It occurred to us that someone might have discovered her secret, threatened her with exposure.”
“And that’s why she killed herself?”
“We think it’s possible.”
“I wouldn’t do that to her.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t. But can you think of anyone from that time who has suddenly appeared in the area again. A friend of Bella’s. Someone who might recognize her.”
He shook his head.
“You’ve not told Bella’s story to anyone?”
Actually, I don’t often think of her now.” He looked at them over thick glasses, demanding their understanding. “Isn’t that a terrible thing to say?”
“What about your wife? Could she have mentioned it to one of her friends?”
“I don’t think it’s really the sort of thing they discuss at the Conservative Ladies’ coffee mornings.”
“If you remember anything which might help would you mind giving me a ring?” Edie said. “It’s my home number. I’m not often there but there’s an answering machine.” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “You see, Rachael found the body. It was a terrible shock. I really think that only finding out what led up to the suicide will help her come to terms with it.” Good God, Edie, Rachael thought. You were doing pretty well until then.
Chapter Thirty-Seven.
That evening Edie stayed in Kimmerston. There was a meeting of an educational pressure group to which she belonged and of course she felt she was indispensable. Rachael thought anyway that the isolation of Baikie’s had been getting her down. She thrived on constant phone calls, friends dropping in to weep on her shoulder or to drag her into Newcastle for a fix of culture. Anne had sometimes been up for a discussion about a play or a film, but her contribution often stopped after a discussion of the leading male’s anatomy.
In the kitchen at Riverside Terrace Edie had thrown together a meal and tried to persuade her to stay too. Rachael refused she’d brought her own car specially so she could get back and she didn’t want to leave Anne on her own.
“Well, you will take care, darling, won’t you?” Rachael took no notice of this. Edie’s mind was elsewhere. She was already planning her speech. And she’d never been much concerned for Rachael’s physical safety. While other parents stressed out about safe deliverance from parties Edie had been partying herself, assuming rightly that Rachael would have the sense to make her own way home. Edie had been bothered about more difficult things relationships, anxieties, how Rachael felt.
Now though, standing at the top of the steps to see Rachael off, Edie repeated her warning. “I mean it. Don’t stop for anything and keep all the car doors locked. And when you get into the cottage make sure everything’s bolted there too.”
So suddenly Rachael was acutely aware of a danger she had never considered before. If even Edie was worried then she should take special care. Because of this jitteriness she stopped for petrol on the main road although she still had a quarter of a tank, enough to get her to Baikie’s and back several times over. When she tried to start the engine again nothing happened. She’d had a dodgy starter motor for months but hadn’t had the time or the money to get it fixed. Usually all it took was pressure on the bonnet to tilt the car to unstick it but this time, though she and the woman from the petrol station bounced and rocked it, nothing happened. And of course the AA took hours to get out to her, although she played the card of being a woman on her own.