Holly wasn’t sure how to react. She’d never been convinced that people changed so dramatically. ‘You got friendly with Martin Benton?’
‘He was a gentle soul, Martin. He needed someone to look out for him.’
‘You supported him when he came out of hospital after his mother died?’ Holly was still struggling to think of this man as a guardian angel.
‘Then, but also when the Job Centre got him assessed as fit for work. The stress of teaching had made him ill and he was still getting over the last breakdown. No way could he go back to that. So I suggested that he’d be better registering as self-employed. That gets the bastards off your back, you know. He was a clever guy. He had some savings in the bank to see him through until he got set up. And he had skills.’
‘Moths and computers.’
‘And photography! Have you seen inside his office? All those beautiful pictures. He just needed the confidence to go it alone.’ Frank drained the Coke and fidgeted in his seat.
‘What business did he decide on in the end?’
For the first time Frank seemed hesitant. ‘I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. Not in detail. He’d met some guy who wanted him to do some work. He wouldn’t tell me any more than that.’ There was a pause. ‘I wondered if he was getting ill again. When he was really ill he heard voices, you know. Got paranoid. Dreamed up weird conspiracy theories. He said he’d been sworn to secrecy.’
‘And you thought he was psychotic?’ Holly decided that this was a nightmare. Vera would want facts, not news of a madman who heard voices.
‘I don’t know. I’m not qualified to tell. I’m not a doctor, am I? Martin seemed sane enough, but his stories didn’t hang together. Why would he turn setting up a new business into such a mystery?’ Frank was drumming his fingers on the table.
Holly saw that she wouldn’t keep him here for very much longer. ‘Can I get you another coffee?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve got work.’
‘Can you tell me again what Martin said about his business? Where did he meet the man who offered him the work?’
Frank got to his feet, leaned over the table towards Holly. ‘He wouldn’t tell me. Nothing. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Frank, but I’m sworn to secrecy.” And his eyes were kind of glittery, so I wondered if he was on something.’ He looked directly at Holly. ‘Then he said that I’d be proud of him. “You, of all people, would understand.” I asked him what he meant, but he just smiled.’
Chapter Twelve
Vera was hungry. Biscuits were all very well, but she hadn’t had a proper meal since the pizza the night before, and pizza never seemed very filling to her. More like a snack. She was thinking she might slide back to the village for pie and chips in The Lamb, when the door of the barn conversion on the other side of the farmhouse opened. The two Labradors she’d seen in the big house burst out, followed by a middle-aged woman. The woman was fit. Not an inch of spare flesh. She wore specs and had curly hair that looked like a Brillo pad. She wore wellingtons, jeans and a T-shirt. No coat or jersey.
‘Janet O’Kane?’ Vera was only halfway out of the car and had to shout above the sound of excited dogs.
‘Yes?’ The woman stopped, but the dogs bounded off.
‘Inspector Vera Stanhope. Have you got time for a chat?’
‘If you don’t mind a walk.’ She nodded after the Labradors. ‘They’re used to a big garden and they’re going stir-crazy in the house.’
‘It was good of you to take them on.’
‘I’m not sure what my husband makes of our new house-guests but, really, it was the least we could do. Two people dead! I can hardly believe it.’ She paused and they walked down the track for a little way. ‘I’m pleased that you can join me. I was a bit anxious about going out on my own, even with the dogs. Ridiculous, I know. John said he’d come, but he’s not been well and I could tell he’d rather not.’
She set off down the lane.
‘I’d usually go up onto the hill, but there are lambs, so it’s probably better to avoid there today. Wren’s very well behaved, but Dipper’s a bit of a bugger. He’s her son.’
It took Vera a moment to realize that she was talking about the dogs. ‘Do you look after them very often?’
‘If the Carswells are only away for a weekend I go down to the house a couple of times a day to feed them, let them out – you know. I’d love to have a dog of my own, but John’s not keen.’
‘It’s a lovely place to live,’ Vera said.
‘Isn’t it? John was an academic at Newcastle University and the plan was always to retire early and find somewhere with some space to breathe. Live the good life. Maybe it’s a bit daft, but it works for us.’ Her voice was very bright.
She took a footpath that led from the lane and onto a narrow bridge over the burn. The dogs nosed through the undergrowth. There were wood anemones, celandines and all around them birdsong. It occurred to Vera briefly that she should get out more, take a bit of exercise as the doctor had advised. At least it would stop Joe nagging, and she might even enjoy it. ‘How well do you know the Carswells?’
‘I met Helen when I was walking and she was out with the dogs. I didn’t realize who she was at first. Since then we’ve been down to the big house for drinks a few times, and John and Peter seem to get on very well. Both history geeks. Helen calls in for coffee if she’s walking our way. She’s a very sympathetic woman. I miss her company while she’s away.’
‘Very chummy.’ Vera wondered about that, if the close relationship between the O’Kanes and the people at the big house caused resentment among the other residents of Valley Farm. ‘And you get on well with your closer neighbours?’
There was a brief pause. ‘Oh, we do. We’re very lucky.’ She threw a stick and watched Dipper chase after it. ‘Sometimes I think this period of our lives is a kind of regression. We have no real responsibilities. The six of us at the farm are of an age when we should be caring for elderly parents or grandchildren, but coincidentally we’re all free of those ties. It feels a bit like being a student again. We have nobody to worry about except ourselves.’
‘The retired hedonists’ club.’ Vera was feeling a little breathless and wished the woman would slow down. She sat on a fallen tree and Janet came to join her.
‘Ah, somebody told you about that. John’s little joke. Though the pedant in me thinks it’s not quite right. It sounds as if we used to be hedonists and now we’ve stopped. In fact we’re hedonists who happen to be retired.’
‘And what form does the hedonism take?’ Vera had never been very good at grammar at school. Hadn’t seen the point, as long as you could make yourself understood, and now she was just confused.
‘Oh, nothing very dramatic! We don’t go in for orgies or hallucinogenic drugs. We probably drink too much. Eat too much. Enjoy each other’s company. Take the occasional trip into Newcastle or Kimmerston for the pictures or the theatre. A weekend away. Perhaps it’s not so much regression as a kind of desperation. We see time trickling by and want to enjoy life while we can.’ She stopped abruptly.
‘But the Carswells aren’t members?’ Vera remembered Nigel Lucas’s resentment when he spoke of the people in the big house.
‘Oh no!’ As if the idea was unthinkable. ‘And they do still have responsibilities. Peter’s chair of the Country Landowners’ Association and sits on lots of committees. Helen is something to do with the hospice in Kimmerston and a trustee of any number of charities. Annie and I are involved in the community too, but not to the same extent.’
‘The Carswells don’t have grandchildren?’ Vera remembered the photographs in the living room of the big house. No babies there.