But she hadn’t reckoned with Jude’s greater openness and conviviality. Inevitably, there was someone there who her neighbour knew.
It turned out to be Ruskin Dewitt. Of course. Men, Carole had convinced herself, were always suckers for Jude’s rather obvious charms. He had risen immediately he saw her, disengaging himself clumsily from the fixed bench in the alcove. With a flamboyant gesture, he reached for her hand and planted a tickly kiss on to it. Not for the first time, Carole reflected on her low visibility when compared to that of her neighbour.
‘Jude! My dear! What more could an old man ask than to have his afternoon animated by such a vision of pulchritude?’
‘Nice to see you, Russ.’ Whatever destination she’d had in mind, Carole was hauled back towards the group. ‘Russ, I don’t think you know my neighbour, Carole.’
‘I don’t believe I do. Though I have to say, young lady, that you do look familiar.’
Carole winced, as she always did at compliments.
‘She was at the funeral,’ said the sharp-faced woman. ‘And briefly in the church hall afterwards.’
‘Oh, that’s where I recognize you from, of course. Carole, was it?’
‘That’s right.’ The words contained the frostiness with which she greeted all new acquaintances.
‘My name is Ruskin Dewitt,’ he said. (She was right. He’d completely forgotten that the two of them had ever sat on a committee together.) ‘Citizen not of this parish, but of Fedborough, a little further up the River Fether. Formerly a purveyor of education in English Literature to young persons who were unaware of the privilege they were receiving by being taught by me. But, Carole, you will join us?’
‘Erm … Well …’
‘Of course we will,’ said Jude. She looked at the table. There were some glasses with dregs of wine in them, and a bottle of white so deep into an ice bucket that it was impossible to see whether it was full or empty. ‘Are you all right for drinks?’
‘I think we’re fine, Jude my angel,’ said Ruskin Dewitt, unsteadily reinserting himself into his seat. ‘We were actually talking about leaving.’
‘We’ve been talking about leaving all afternoon,’ said the thin-faced woman. She looked at her watch. ‘I should be getting back for Rory.’
But none of them made any move. Further introductions were made. The names of the older women, Shirley and Veronica Tattersall, were vaguely familiar to Carole and Jude. They were also introduced to the self-appointed Tragedy Queen of Fethering, Elizabeth Browning. ‘Of course, I have seen you both around,’ she trilled, before embarking on an unrequested autobiography. ‘I feel it’s my duty to sing with the church choir. I was professional, you know, Glyndebourne way back, but …’ She brought a hand up to her papery neck ‘… the nodules.’
‘Ah,’ said Jude.
‘Cut my career short at a terribly early age.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
Elizabeth Browning left a tragic pause, too long to prevent the younger woman from muscling in and introducing herself as Bet Harrison. ‘Only moved down here a couple of weeks ago,’ she said, providing the instant explanation of why they hadn’t recognized her.
‘You didn’t take long to get into the choir,’ said Jude.
‘The church community is welcoming wherever you go.’ Somehow Bet managed to avoid making her words sound sanctimonious.
‘And we’re always glad of new voices adding their strength to ours,’ said Ruskin. ‘Bob’s particularly pleased. He gets very worried about dwindling numbers.’
This echo of Jonny Virgo’s words made Jude suspect that the size of the All Saints choir was a real issue for the vicar. Perhaps he saw in it a reflection of declining attendance in the main body of the church. And maybe a reflection on his own competence.
‘And it is good,’ Bet went on, ‘to know when you go to a new place, there’ll be a church, where you can quickly find a group of like-minded people.’
Carole shuddered inwardly at the idea. She thought, for herself, the prospect of finding ‘like-minded people’ anywhere was pretty distant. She treasured her anonymity and exclusivity. When she’d moved permanently to Fethering, raw after her divorce and premature retirement from the Home Office, she hadn’t wanted to make contact with anyone. She’d only bought Gulliver because she didn’t wish to appear lonely when she walked on the beach. And if she’d had a neighbour with a less outgoing and persistent personality than Jude, that relationship wouldn’t have flourished either.
‘Of course, normally you’d hope to make friends at the school gate, too,’ Bet went on. Jude was beginning to wonder whether she was usually this forthcoming, or if the drink had relaxed her. ‘But my son Rory goes to the comprehensive in Clincham, so he gets a bus there and back. It’s been difficult for him starting there in the middle of term, but that’s just down to the logistics of when we could move. The English system of house purchase doesn’t take notice of details like school terms.’
‘Have you moved down from London?’ asked Jude. Most of the people who ended up in Fethering had.
‘No. Evesham. That’s where Rory was born and brought up, but then my marriage broke down and … well, I wanted to get as far away from the place as possible. But, you know, house purchase … you think you’ve got somewhere sorted, then the chain breaks down, and … quite frankly, it’s been a nightmare.’
Carole was beginning to think that they were being granted too much information. Was the woman going to provide her entire life story within minutes of meeting complete strangers? Was she equally revealing with everyone she met? Such behaviour went against Carole’s every instinct.
Fortunately, at this moment Ruskin Dewitt re-entered the conversation. ‘Did you know Leonard Mallett well, Carole?’ he asked.
‘Hardly at all.’ And she mentioned the Preservation of Fethering’s Seafront committee.
‘Yes, well, I’m on that.’ He screwed up his eyes and inspected her. ‘Oh, I do recognize you now.’
‘Good,’ said Carole, with some acidity.
‘And were you at the church hall earlier in the afternoon when things got rather ugly?’
‘I heard Alice Mallett having a bit of a go at her stepmother.’
‘“Having a bit of a go”? You have an enviable talent for understatement, Carole.’
‘Yes, being new to the area,’ said Bet, ‘I was quite shocked. Are accusations of murder common events in Fethering?’
The group laughed at the idea. Carole and Jude exchanged covert looks. Each knew that accusations of murder had featured rather more in their lives than they had in that of the average village resident.
Elizabeth Browning, who hadn’t joined in the communal laughter, said gnomically, ‘Tragedies are not unknown in the village.’ But the other choir members had heard her narratives too often to invite further explanation.
‘Does anyone actually know anything about the circumstances of Leonard Mallett’s death?’ asked Carole. ‘We’ve heard that he “had a fall”, but that’s it.’
Shirley and Veronica Tattersall regretted that they couldn’t provide any more detail, but inevitably Ruskin Dewitt did have a contribution to make. ‘I don’t want to be telling tales out of school, and let me tell you, having spent most of my professional life in schools, I’m fully aware of the meaning of that expression … but I did hear something which might have some bearing on the subject of Leonard Mallett’s death.’