‘Ah.’ Carole took the proffered credit card slip and, enjoying her new mastery of the grand gesture, added a tip that would have covered a meal for three at the Crown and Anchor.
Carole Seddon drove the Renault back to Fethering in a haze of well-being. The most remarkable thing had happened. She found that she actually liked her son’s fiancée.
And, through Gaby, she saw the prospect of getting to know – and like – Stephen.
On her arrival back at High Tor, Carole was surprised to see Jude pottering around in her front garden. She had assumed her neighbour had some other commitment which had prevented her from answering Suzy Long-thorne’s SOS. Carole was even more surprised to hear that Jude had received no summons to help out at the hotel.
It had indeed been a day of surprises.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘I don’t suppose,’ said Carole, as she served coffee to Jude on Monday morning, ‘that you can think of any promises?’
‘Promises? Sorry, you’ve lost me.’
‘For this auction of promises thing. I want to get back in touch with Sandra Hartson – you know, Kerry’s mother – and I feel I need an excuse. If I had a promise to offer her, she wouldn’t be suspicious.’
‘What kind of promises are they?’
‘Weeks at Spanish villas, weekends at hotels, dinners for two – all the kind of stuff the well-heeled middle classes value.’
‘Forget it. Unless someone fancies an afternoon for one at Woodside Cottage.’
‘Oh, and services.’
‘Like what?’
‘Facials, hairdos – usual stuff.’
‘Hm.’ Unconsciously Jude’s plump hand played with a hanging tendril of blonde hair. ‘I suppose I could offer a balancing session.’
‘Balancing session?’ Carole was constantly surprised by her neighbour’s new skills. Had Jude spent some time working in a garage? ‘What, for the wheels of their cars, because most of them have got these huge big off-road vehicles with—’
‘No, Carole, no. Balancing their bodies, their personalities.’
‘Oh.’ The voice went frosty. This sounded like more of Jude’s New Age healing nonsense.
‘You’d be surprised how much take-up you’d get for it. Particularly from the women.’
‘But these are women who spend all their time tanning themselves and playing geriatric golf. I suppose they might want to get balanced to improve their swings, but that’s the only—’
‘Well, if you don’t like the balancing idea, I could offer kinesiology.’
Carole looked blank.
‘Kinesiology is a natural health care system, based on muscle testing . . .’
‘Ah.’
‘. . . to analyse minor functional imbalances.’
‘Right.’
‘It’s a holistic system which uses massage, nutrition and contact points to balance the whole person.’
Carole nodded, but her face remained blank. ‘And you say the “womenfolk”,’ Caroline winced at the word, ‘of the Pillars of Sussex will go for it?’
‘I’m sure they will.’
‘Well . . .’ Carole wasn’t convinced, but at least she had something to offer Sandra Hartson as an excuse for getting in touch with her.
‘Why do you want to talk to Sandra, anyway?’ asked Jude. ‘Have you got some new line on the investigation you’re not sharing with me?’
‘Of course not.’ Though making a breakthrough on her own did have an undeniable appeal. ‘I’ve just a feeling that if we’re going to find out more about that night at the hotel, using any contacts we’ve got with the Pillars of Sussex is going to be a good idea.’
‘I agree.’
‘And the wives – or should I say “womenfolk” – are part of that communication system. Brenda Chew, Sandra Hartson – Bob Hartson is a very powerful man.’
‘Oh yes.’
‘I’m sure if anything odd has been going on in the Pillars of Sussex, he’d know about it.’
‘And Kerry knows more about that night than she’s letting on. I’m going to get back in touch with her.’
‘Through the hotel?’
‘No, directly.’ Jude remembered something and tapped her fingers on her chin. ‘Mind you, I am going to talk to Suzy. Find out why the hell she lied about calling me yesterday morning. She really is behaving very strangely.’
Their plans for the next stage of the investigation were just about in place when the phone rang. Carole answered it.
‘It’s all right,’ a conspiratorial voice whispered. ‘I’m calling on my mobile from the garden shed.’
She’d completely forgotten the existence of Barry Stilwell.
‘I’m sorry, Jude. I wasn’t deliberately lying.’
‘Yes, you were, Suzy. You told Carole you’d rung me, and you hadn’t.’
‘OK, I lied, but it wasn’t important. I just wanted to get her off my case.’
‘As you want to get me off your case?’
‘Yes, Jude.’
‘But when we met in London, you were fine about things. What’s made you change your—’
‘Please. This is just for the time being. I’ll be in touch when this has all blown over.’
‘When what has all blown over?’
‘Oh, the financial crisis at the hotel. The press interest in Rick.’
‘You know I’ve seen him?’
‘Yes, he said.’
‘For a couple who had such a bitter divorce, you seem to be constantly in touch.’
‘You don’t know the situation.’
‘I know what you feel about him. God, I listened to enough of it just after the split-up happened.’
‘Yes, and I’m very grateful to you, Jude.’
‘So why are you once again living in each other’s pockets?’
‘Time heals.’
‘Not that much, Suzy. I think you’re so closely in touch because you share a secret. Something you both want to hide.’
There was a silence. Then Suzy Longthorne announced coldly, ‘You asked if I wanted you off my case, Jude. The answer is yes.’ The coldness gave way to desperation. ‘Please, Jude.’ The emotion in Suzy’s voice was the real thing. ‘I’ll give you a call in a month. Then we’ll get together and I’ll explain everything. I will. Trust me.’
‘The number of times you’ve lied, Suzy,’ said Jude implacably, ‘you haven’t given me much reason to trust you.’
‘No.’ Another silence.
‘OK.’ The moment had passed. Jude’s tone was lighter now. ‘By the way, is Kerry there? I wanted to have a word with her about—’
‘Kerry doesn’t work here any more,’ said Suzy, firmly ending the conversation.
‘I was ringing, Sandra, about a new promise.’
‘Yes?’ the woman at the other end of the line sounded bewildered and a little deterrent, as though a ‘promise’ were possibly some kind of double glazing system.
‘It’s Carole. Carole Seddon.’
‘You said.’ Still no recognition.
‘We met at Brenda Chew’s.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Now she knew, and everything in her middle-class upbringing was activated to cover the lapse. ‘Of course. How lovely to hear from you, Carole. Sorry, I was preoccupied with . . . Anyway, so good to hear you. The Pillars of Sussex Auction, yes. So what promise have you managed to get?’
‘A session of kinesiology . . .?’ said Carole tentatively.
She needn’t have worried about its reception. ‘That would be wonderful,’ Sandra Hartson cooed, sounding more animated than she had at any time during their acquaintance. ‘Do you really know someone qualified to do that?’
‘My next-door neighbour’s a trained kinesiologist,’ said Carole, with the casual mastery of being well connected.
‘And she’s really prepared to give the service free?’
‘I’ve managed to persuade her,’ confided the omnipotent Carole.