‘Jane, I didn’t tell him anything.’
‘Well, somebody did. Either he’s been sniffing around the village in his spare time, or somebody’s been feeding him sick gossip.’
‘All right.’ Lol told them about Gomer Parry and the small boy and the ten quid. ‘You’re actually saying this guy was behind that?’
‘We don’t know, to be honest,’ Jane said. ‘We think he’s got to be. But who’s behind him? What else did he ask you about?’
‘He went into the court case and what led up to it and the loony-bin years, all that. He knew about it already, and I just made sure he got it right. Told him it really wasn’t much of a story any more.’
‘Hmm,’ Jane said.
‘And the rest was mainly about the music. Was I putting all my bad experiences into songs, like “Heavy Medication Day”? Which was fair enough. He said it sounded like this Dr Gascoigne had done some unpleasant things to me. He was trying to find out what they were. I didn’t tell him.’
‘Anything else?’
‘I don’t think so. If I think of anything else, I’ll call you on the mobile.’
‘Well, leave it switched on,’ Jane said.
‘OK.’ Lol paused in the doorway. ‘So Jack Fine really wasn’t doing an actual interview for Q? Or anything?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘OK,’ Lol said.
He walked across to the square to collect his Astra, a nobody again. Thinking that it was always harder for a nobody to defend himself, his loved ones, his reputation.
When Lol had gone, Jane switched on the computer, thinking how wise it had been of her to persuade Mum to have an extra phone line installed.
‘Where do we start?’
Eirion raised his eyes to the ceiling. Meaning Jane’s attic apartment where, last summer, she’d lost her virginity to him – not realizing that, despite all his man-of-the-world crap, he was simultaneously losing his to her. Never quite forgiven him for that.
‘Out of the question,’ Jane said.
‘I didn’t say anything.’
‘The way you were sitting said it all.’ Jane clicked into Internet Explorer. ‘What are we looking for? Like, has Lol really told us anything we didn’t already know?’
It had become interesting when Fyneham had admitted that the new Evesham computer Jane had been threatening with extinction had been bought for him in return for helping one of his dad’s… hard to say if it was a friend or just a client. But the guy had wanted to know about Merrily and Lol, particularly Lol, which was bizarre.
What he’d wanted to know, basically, as Jane had understood it, was like, well… dirt. Anything damaging. Lol and Mum? Someone wanted to damage Lol and Mum?
Just then, unfortunately, Fyneham’s dad’s Alfa had pulled up outside. Back-up. So Fyneham had become braver. Presumably the old man was as bent as his son. So JD had gone back on his story, claiming he’d been, like, just saying that about this guy, to wind them up.
Eirion pulled out a Parish Pump leaflet he’d picked up from a pile in the office suite. Jane at once snatched it and screwed it up.
‘Parish Pimp, more like.’
‘No!’ Eirion grabbed it back, smoothed it out. ‘I made some notes on this. Listed all the titles his dad publishes.’
‘Does that help us?’
‘Might do. What Hereford Council Can Do for You? Do we know any bent councillors your mum might have offended?’
‘Most councillors wind up bent after a few years. What else is on the list? I forget.’
‘Microlite Monthly? DigiCam!’
‘Anorak rags.’
‘I was saving the best one. The Clinical Therapist.’
‘You reckon?’
‘Google it,’ Eirion said.
The Clinical Therapist. Biannual digest of new developments in clinical psychiatry aimed primarily at hospital-based psychiatrists and allied practitioners. Est. 1999. Lord Shipston. DClinPsych, MSc.
‘Not many cartoons, then,’ Eirion said.
‘Lol once told me, in one of his more embittered moments, that the majority of shrinks rise to the top by having nothing at all to do with people but just writing papers for dismal publications like this. I mean, Lord Shipston? How many neurotics has he ever had on the couch? Let’s go back and snatch Fyneham when he leaves the house.’
‘We’re supposed to be minding the phone. We’ll just have to sit here and amuse ourselves.’
‘Actually, Irene,’ Jane said, ‘I think I’m probably having a frigid day. Too much exposure to male greed, male dishonesty, immorality, hypocrisy – that kind of stuff.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Don’t you put your bloody Huw Edwards chapel face on, you’re no better. You told me you weren’t a virgin. You totally spoiled my first experience. All the time I’m thinking, Oh no, I’m going to be such a disappointment compared with all the others.’
‘What do you think I was feeling?’
‘I remember exactly what you were feeling, I just didn’t realize you’d never felt one before.’
The phone rang. Jane snatched it.
‘She’s still not back?’
‘No, I’m sorry, Sophie.’
‘I see.’ Sophie still thought Jane should call her Mrs Hill. Too bad.
‘What did you want, exactly?’
‘I wanted to talk to her, Jane.’
‘Sophie,’ Jane said. ‘How old will I have to be before you recognize me as someone of mature intelligence and perception?’
‘In your case, Jane, although it’s possible I may live long enough to change my mind—’
‘Yeah, yeah… Look, can I sound you out about something, while you’re on? Eirion and me, we’ve been talking to this guy who was set up to interview Lol, maybe to find stuff out about him and Mum.’
‘Who’s this?’
‘Guy called J.D. Fyneham. His dad’s a magazine publisher. Fyneham does this… have you come across this Parish Pump thing, offers to revamp parish magazines?’
‘I have, actually,’ Sophie said. ‘Bryce Orford left some leaflets for me to hand out to—’
‘Who’s Bryce Orford?’
‘The Dean. What’s this about, again?’
‘Somebody’s trying to damage Lol and Mum, that’s the bottom line. I mean, you must know that’s happening.’
‘Yes, I believe it is. I just hope this isn’t one of your—’
‘This is absolutely on the level, Sophie, I swear on… on the grave of Lucy Devenish. And I think you know something, don’t you?’
Jane held her breath, watching Eirion’s stony chapel face awaken into human interest.
‘All right, tell me everything,’ Sophie said.
Jane had relented and, about twenty minutes later, she and Eirion were into some mild petting on the rug by the desk when Sophie called back.
‘That was, um, quick.’
‘Jane, I’m in the office now, and it’s very important that I talk to your mother.’
‘Well, Lol’s gone over to Ludlow now, and he’s got a phone, so we expect to be in contact soon.’
‘The best we can hope for, I suppose. Jane, you should know that I’m now treating you as a person of mature intelligence.’
‘Right…’ Jane had a hand under her top, repositioning her bra. She blushed. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ve had to come into the office after a call from the Bishop. Something’s happened, and the Bishop was in a quandary and, in the absence of Merrily, I’m afraid, he was forced to refer it to the Deliverance Panel. Telling me at the same time, of course, in the hope that the information would also reach Merrily.’
‘She rang,’ Jane remembered. ‘The Callaghan-Clarke woman.’