What was it with the fashion for name-tags? It’s as if we’re all dogs, Vera thought. As if we can’t explain who we are, if we get lost. She smiled. ‘Detective Inspector Stanhope. Have you got time for a chat?’
‘Let me just check what’s going on in the restaurant. They’ve employed a bunch of kids. Cheap, but crap.’
‘Not like the old days?’
Paula looked sharply at Vera, but didn’t answer. She returned a little later carrying a mug of tea.
‘I’ve told them to lay up for tomorrow and then let themselves out. I can lock up later.’ She nodded towards Vera’s coffee. ‘Do you want a real drink to go with that?’
‘Nah.’ Vera spoke quickly before she succumbed to temptation. ‘I’m driving.’
‘So are you just nosy,’ Paula took Alicia Randle’s seat at the table, ‘or do you have a reason for asking your questions?’
Vera paused. ‘Well, pet, I’ve always been nosy…’
‘But maybe you have a reason for talking to me too?’ Paula tossed back her hair, but it had been lacquered into shape and hardly moved.
‘Maybe.’ Another pause. ‘You did work for Annie and Sam, didn’t you? I’m sure that I’ve seen you in here.’
‘I worked front-of-house with Annie. As you said: the good old days.’ Paula set the mug on the table in front of her and stared into it. She might have been reading the tea leaves. ‘We were classy in those days. Great food. Nice atmosphere. The new owners just couldn’t carry that off. Headed downmarket. As if there aren’t enough cheap bars and restaurants in Kimmerston. There’s no way they can compete on price and they’ve got another place in Morpeth, so they’re hardly ever here. They’re just playing at it. I’d hand in my notice, but I suspect it’ll go under soon enough anyway. I might as well hang on, so I get paid my unemployment benefit as soon as I stop working. No point getting penalized for resigning.’ She drank tea. Her fingernails were as long as talons and painted scarlet.
Vera wondered what it would be like to have nails like that. Fun, she thought. It would be fun! She imagined waltzing into the incident room all glammed up, fingernails and cleavage flashing, and pictured Joe’s face. She felt a moment of regret. She’d never gone in for anything theatrical, even when she was young. She’d never been into anything fun at all. And it was all too late now. She became aware that Paula was staring at her.
‘Do you know why Sam and Annie sold up?’ Paula hesitated for a moment. ‘It was an important decision. Something they had to sort out for themselves. They weren’t going to discuss that with the hired help, were they?’
‘But you might have guessed what was going on.’ There was another hesitation, and Vera thought the woman was preparing to confide in her, but in the end her response was bland, almost meaningless. ‘They said they wanted to enjoy some quality time together before they got old.’ Which was what they’d told Vera.
‘Tell me about them.’
Paula stared at Vera across the table. ‘What is all this about?’
‘There was a double-murder in the valley beyond Gilswick. Naturally we’re interested in everyone who lives there.’
‘You must be joking!’ The waitress began to laugh. It started as a bewildered snigger, then became hysterical until she was choking. Vera couldn’t tell if she found the idea of her former employers as murderers genuinely amusing or if the laughter was a reaction to stress. At last Paula dabbed her eyes with a napkin and started speaking. ‘Annie and Sam are the gentlest people I’ve ever met. They adore each other and think the best of everyone. There is no way that either of them could be a killer.’
‘So there’s no problem in telling me a bit more about them then, is there?’ Vera leaned back in her chair. ‘How long did they run the restaurant here?’
Paula considered. ‘I remember the tenth anniversary,’ she said. ‘A glorious night. That wasn’t long before they sold up.’
‘What did they do before they took this place on?’
‘Sam was a farmer. His dad was a tenant of the Carswell estate, before the major sold off most of their holdings. It’s tough scraping a living from the hills. You know that. They kept going by diversifying and ran the farm as a B &B, and later they set up a shop and tea room – Sam’s baby. That was where the idea of this restaurant came from. The menu in the tea room was all about local food, simply cooked. When his father died, Sam knew he’d rather be a cook than a farmer. He gave up the tenancy and set up this place.’
‘What’s Annie’s background?’ Vera loved this part of the investigation: the excuse to satisfy her curiosity, to dig her way into the suspects’ lives.
‘She and Sam were childhood sweethearts. I think she grew up on the coast. Blyth perhaps? I’m not quite sure how they met, but it was while they were both at school. Then they separated and she went away to university. When she came back to Northumberland she was engaged to be married to someone else, but the week before the wedding Sam tracked her down. He turned up at her parents’ home one day and persuaded her that she was making the worst mistake of her life. He said that he was her one-and-only true love.’
‘And she went for that?’ Vera wondered if she’d be taken in by a gesture so flash and corny. Probably. But she was middle-aged and overweight, and occasionally desperate not to be left alone.
‘Trust me.’ Paula smiled. ‘Showy romance really isn’t Sam’s style. Annie must have known he’d only have spoken up if he meant every word.’
‘Have they got any kids?’
‘A daughter.’ Paula snapped her scarlet lips shut.
Vera looked up sharply. ‘Problems?’
‘All kids have problems of one sort or another, don’t they?’ Vera didn’t answer and Paula continued, ‘And they certainly become problems for their parents. Mine were a nightmare as soon as they hit thirteen and didn’t become civilized until they were old enough to buy me a drink.’ She looked up at Vera. ‘Have you got any?’
Vera shook her head.
There was another silence until Paula continued. ‘Elizabeth, their daughter’s called. Known to everyone as Lizzie. Wild from the beginning. I think she was chatting up middle-aged men from her cradle.’
‘Is she still getting tangled up with the wrong sort of bloke?’ Vera tried to work out where this was leading, but was caught up in the story now and didn’t care if it was relevant to the case. Annie had told her that their daughter was working away, and Vera hadn’t bothered checking.
‘When Lizzie was still at school she had a relationship with one of the teachers. Got him sacked.’
‘Not her fault that!’ Vera shot back. ‘Especially if she was underage. The only guilty party was the man.’
‘I’d have thought just the same.’ Paula paused for a moment to finish her tea, though it must have been cold by now. ‘Until I met her. Lizzie has no boundaries. No limits. She goes for what she wants without any worry about the consequences, especially if the consequences are for other people.’ There was another hesitation. Outside in the street a couple of drunks were shouting to each other. ‘Sam and Annie were always bailing her out. I used to dread it when there was a phone call at work and it was from Lizzie. Sam would drop everything in the kitchen and rush out to rescue her from whatever scrape she’d made for herself. He’d bring her back here – they had a flat over the restaurant for a while – and she’d be pissed or stoned. Or just mad. Laughing like a drain, or in floods of tears.’
‘Did they try to get her some help?’
Paula shrugged. ‘I don’t think they wanted to admit that there was anything seriously wrong. Not then. Annie made excuses for her. She was always saying that Lizzie had finally turned a corner and they’d arrange for a new college course for her, or pay off someone she’d had a go at.’ Paula fished in her bag and pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took a drag.