DEATH IN THE HILLS

KATE WELLS

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Kate Wells

1

The right to roam is something that is always divisive when it comes to the countryside. Jude Gray had her own opinions on it and they were put to the test when her good friend Detective Inspector Binnie Khatri asked her to join a rambling club.

‘What have I got myself into?’ Jude asked as she took the whistling kettle from the Aga and poured boiling water into her Thermos. ‘You told me the woman who runs it is horrendous.’

She and Binnie were in the kitchen of the black and white house that sat in the middle of a working sheep and arable farm: Jude’s place of work, home and life’s centre.

‘Oh, Joyce is beyond horrendous.’ Binnie opened Jude’s backpack for her to slide the Thermos of tea into. ‘She was a DI when I first got my job at Malvern. Our paths only crossed for a few months before she retired but her reputation stuck around. She was fierce back then and is still a bit of a hard nut now, but the others in the walking group are lovely. It’s been good for me to have something that takes me properly away from work.’

Jude understood that need. Binnie worked hard and her job demanded long hours, not to mention the brain baggage that came with it. It was as impossible for Binnie to switch off from her investigations as it was for Jude to forget the farm when she took her boots off at the end of each day.

‘Then why do you need me to come with you?’ Jude asked. She saw a shifty expression dance across Binnie’s brown eyes. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

Binnie concentrated hard on the two border collies sitting to attention by the Aga as she answered. ‘Because Joyce is taking us through Frank’s farm again and I think it might be helpful if you were there as a bit of a peacekeeper.’

‘What?’ Jude said incredulously. Frank worked the land a couple of miles away which, in farming terms, made them neighbours. ‘Is she mad? Last time you all went traipsing through the farm, it almost ended up in a bloodbath from what Noah told me.’ Noah was Frank’s son. He lived in a cottage at Malvern Farm and was Jude’s shepherd as well as one of her closest friends.

‘Come on, it wasn’t that bad.’ The look on Binnie’s face gave away the fact that she knew it was precisely that bad.

The public footpath that took walkers through the farmland cut straight across one of the main pasture fields that held a large portion of Frank’s flock of Suffolk sheep. The increase in walkers using it, combined with the number of them that came with their dogs, had led to Frank putting big signs up on the gates at both ends of the field warning of the dangers that dogs can cause to livestock and asking that they be kept on leads. Signs that could not be missed and yet signs that Joyce, head of the Malvern Roaming and Rambling Society, had chosen to ignore.

‘It sounds like Joyce’s dog was totally out of control,’ said Jude. ‘Frank was lucky he didn’t lose any sheep. And it sounds like Joyce was lucky she didn’t lose a dog. If Damien had had a gun with him, he wouldn’t have held back, you know.’

Binnie’s face darkened. ‘I don’t know why Frank has him on the farm. He seems like a really nasty piece of work.’

Jude pictured the tall, skinny man with weaselly features and a ratty little moustache that hung from his top lip like a limp caterpillar. Damien Hawker was indeed a nasty piece of work. He looked for trouble, keen to join in any bar brawl regardless of whether or not he was involved, or even knew what the fight was about. He’d already had one stint in prison and seemed undeterred by the experience. Jude wouldn’t have trusted him an inch but he was an extra pair of hands for Frank when farm labourers were hard to find, even if they weren’t exactly the most hardworking hands Jude had come across.

‘Farmers can’t always be choosy when it comes to hiring people to help, and Frank’s not getting any younger. He needs help and right now Damien is the best he can find.’

Jude added a tub of brownies that Lucy had baked to the flask already in her backpack and clipped the straps in place.

‘It must be tough dealing with a place that big at his age,’ said Binnie.

‘Noah thinks he’ll be giving up his tenancy soon as it’s getting harder to manage. And when he does there will be a vacancy perfect for a shepherd half Frank’s age.’

Jude flung the backpack over her shoulder and picked up her keys and phone.

‘You’re thinking of Noah?’ Binnie asked.

Jude sighed deeply. ‘It’s something that’s crossed my mind more than once. It would be a great opportunity for him.’

As Jude stepped into the porch to retrieve her walking boots and jacket, her two dogs ran to join her, their tails wagging enthusiastically at the promise of a walk. Jude pulled two leads from the hook and walked out towards her ancient Land Rover. She tried to push away the anxiety that had been growing in her ever since Noah had mentioned the tenancy that might be coming up soon if Frank were to retire. She would never try to stop Noah but even the smallest hint that one day he would leave Malvern Farm filled her with dread. Not least because if he went then he would almost certainly take Jude’s sister, Lucy, with him, and her young son Sebbie. Lucy and Noah’s relationship, born from friendship, had blossomed into something that Jude could tell was pretty unbreakable. Sebbie adored Noah too and they made the perfect little family. Whilst Jude was never in doubt of how loved she was and how important to each of them, she knew that they belonged together and if Noah were to move on, they would go with him.

‘In you get,’ she said to Pip and Alfie as she opened the back door for the dogs to jump into the boot.

‘Noah wouldn’t leave you in the lurch,’ said Binnie, putting her backpack on the back seat along with Jude’s.

‘No.’ Jude climbed up into the driver’s seat whilst Binnie got into the passenger side. ‘But he can’t keep living in the little pink cottage whilst Lucy and Sebbie are up in the main house with me. Something’s going to change at some point, it has to.’

‘Have you spoken to Lucy?’

Jude looked at her friend before turning the key in the ignition. ‘I can’t. I just have to wait and see how everything pans out.’

She pushed the gearstick into first and set off across the farmyard to the pond where the driveway turned to the left. They went out past the entrance to the campsite which Jude had set up to bring in some extra cash, and on to the stone cottage where Noah lived, painted bright pink by the previous owner.

‘Tell me about these walkers then,’ said Jude as they carried on down the long driveway. ‘Obviously I’ve heard a lot about Joyce and all her rules and quirks. Remind me again why you agreed to join her walking group?’

‘A moment of weakness.’ Binnie rolled her eyes. ‘She collared me at the funeral of our mutual colleague, Inspector Jim Dusk. You remember I went back in the summer?’

‘Of course I do, he fell off his ladder or something equally horrendous, didn’t he?’

‘That’s right, he was cleaning out the gutters. Such a nice man, and not even two years into his retirement. Anyway, Joyce and I bumped into each other and she told me about this walking group of hers. Before I knew it, she’d signed me up.’ Binnie twizzled the knob on the old car radio to try and find some music. ‘But I have to say I’m glad I did join. I’ve only been on two rambles with them, and I like the group enormously. I think you will too. There’s Flo and Brian, they’re a retired couple that act as though they just got married. They hold hands, wear matching jumpers and they even drink from the same water bottle.’

‘What does Joyce have to say about that?’ Jude laughed. ‘I saw on the list of rules she emailed me when I said I wanted to join you today: Rule four, all walkers are to bring their own water supply and must not ask others to share. It was between No swearing or bad language will be tolerated on walks, and All walkers must keep their upper bodies covered.’

‘That one made me chuckle. I have no idea who it could be aimed at as I can’t imagine a single one of them wanting to walk around the hills with their nipples on show.’ Binnie gave up with the crackling radio and switched it off.

‘It makes me want to go in just a pac-a-mac and knickers,’ said Jude, making Binnie explode with laughter. ‘Joyce couldn’t get mad. She only mentions upper bodies being covered.’

They carried on giggling as Jude turned out onto the lane. Binnie told Jude about the other members of the walking group as they followed the road out of West Malvern and across the Wyche cutting where Jubilee Drive cut its way through the contours of the hillside in a winding sweep. Jude loved this part of the hills as they banked upwards to the left and dropped steeply downwards on the right. The views in between the trees were some of the most spectacular in all of the Malverns and changed constantly with the seasons. Autumn had arrived and the leaves changing colour meant that more of the countryside was visible through the branches of the trees.

‘I remember my mum bringing me along here when I was learning to drive,’ said Jude. ‘I was so terrified of tipping over the edge that I took each bend at around five miles per hour.’

‘Better than haring around them at the rate of knots like some folk do. There have been some nasty crashes here over the years and it’s a long way down.’

Jubilee Drive ended at the Herefordshire Beacon where Jude pulled into the car park ten minutes before the official meet time.

‘There they are.’ Binnie pointed over to a group of people wearing backpacks standing next to a gate that led up to the hills. As Jude got out of the car, a rotund woman with ruddy cheeks and a Cleopatra-style bob that was a mix of dark and silver hair marched up to meet them. She had an Ordnance Survey map in a plastic case around her neck and was holding the end of a lead clipped to a gorgeous German shepherd.

‘You made it at last.’ The woman leant back to stop herself from being tugged off her feet by the dog, who was keen to get going.

‘I thought we were meeting at nine.’ Jude glanced at her watch, which clearly read ten minutes to.

‘We like to be prompt.’ The woman tried to hold her hand out for Jude to shake but the dog gave another tug on the lead and she needed the strength of both hands to stop it from running into the road. ‘Joyce Mason,’ she puffed. ‘Founder of the Malvern Roaming and Rambling Society.’

Jude had already guessed this and lifted her hand to return the greeting. ‘Jude Gray. Thank you for letting me join you today.’ She opened the back door where Pip and Alfie were sitting waiting patiently for Jude to loop halter ropes around their necks and noses before jumping out to join the fun.

‘Morning, Joyce,’ said Binnie. ‘Beautiful day for it.’

‘Yes, we’ve been lucky as it looks like the rain is coming in tomorrow. You’ll need to get yourself a parking ticket and then we’ll be ready to get going.’

Jude clamped the ends of her dogs’ leads between her knees so that her arms were free to push through the straps of her backpack. ‘We’re all set. I’ve got a resident’s parking pass.’ She pointed to the windscreen where the Malvern Hills Trust sticker was displayed.

‘That’s the wrong colour which means that I’m afraid it’s out of date,’ said Joyce. ‘The pay and display is just behind you. Chop-chop.’

Joyce turned round and let her dog pull her back across the car park to return to the rest of the group.

‘So, that’s Joyce then.’ Jude looked at the parking sticker and saw with annoyance that she was absolutely right, it had run out back in June.

‘That’s her.’ Binnie went over to the machine to pay for the parking. ‘I’ll sort this, you go and say hello to the others.’

The others, as it turned out, were as delightful as Binnie had promised.

‘You must be Binnie’s friend, Jude,’ said a woman with a warm cerise-painted smile, eyes that sparked with fun and a froth of dark brown hair that was piled on the very top of her head and secured with a bow the same shade of pink as her lipstick. ‘I’m Flo and this is Brian.’

Jude was delighted to see that, under their blue cagoules, they were wearing matching Fair Isle jumpers with a Scandi pattern around the necks.

‘It’s lovely to meet you,’ said Jude. ‘And who’s this?’ She bent down to stroke their white Cairn terrier who was anxiously peering out from between them.

‘This is Hamble,’ said Flo. ‘She’s a little shy but she’ll warm up when we get going.’

As well as their forceful leader and the delightful retired couple, Jude was introduced to Phil, Joyce’s middle-aged nephew, and three other walkers who brought the average age of the group down significantly – two women and a man in their early thirties, who all smiled broadly as they welcomed Jude to the flock.

‘Right then,’ said Joyce. ‘Everyone is here so let’s make a start, shall we?’

Binnie joined Jude, Flo and Brian at the back of the pack as Joyce led them through the gate onto a steep tarmac track. A little way up, they took a grassy path to the right that skirted around the side of the hill.

‘For those of you who don’t know,’ boomed Joyce’s dominant voice from the front of the pack, ‘British Camp, as this part of the hill is known, was once an iron-age hill fort possibly dating back as far as the second century BC. A medieval castle was then constructed on the site, possibly by Harold Godwinson before he became King of England.’

‘You get more than just a walk when you come out with Joyce,’ Flo whispered to Jude and they both grinned as the walking party peeled away from the main path and took a track that led them through the trees towards the foot of the hills.

As they walked, the group circulated and Jude found herself beside the two younger women who introduced themselves as Becka and Clara.

‘So, you’re a farmer?’ Becka, the more outgoing of the two, asked.

‘I am. I have a sheep and arable farm in Malvern End out near Cradley.’

‘I know it,’ said Becka. ‘There’s a nice pub there, The Lamb, I think.’

‘That’s it.’ Jude was starting to feel warm from the exercise so she unzipped her fleece and pulled a hair bobble from her pocket to secure her hair up in a ponytail. ‘There are some lovely walks down there too.’

‘It must be a tough life, farming.’ Clara picked a dead autumn leaf from a tree as she walked past and rubbed it between her fingers so that it crumbled.

‘It can be,’ Jude admitted. ‘I’m lucky though, I have a fantastic team around me. Noah, who’s worked on the farm far longer than I have, is amazing. His dad actually runs the farm we’re going to walk through today.’

‘Oh, goodness,’ said Clara. ‘He’s pretty scary.’

Jude thought about Frank with his quiet disposition and gentle ways. Scary was the last word she’d have chosen to describe him. And then it dawned on her.

‘Oh, no. You’re talking about the man you ran into last time you were on the farm?’

‘Yes. He threated to get a shotgun if Joyce didn’t get Rex under control. I just hope he isn’t there again today.’

‘That wasn’t Frank,’ said Jude. ‘Just someone who works for him.’

‘Hang on a minute.’ Becka looked at Clara in disbelief. ‘Joyce is taking us through the same fields where you had all that trouble? That’s utter madness.’

‘What’s that you’re saying?’ Joyce, who’d been walking a little way ahead, spun around at the sound of her name. ‘You think the way I run my group is utter madness? Is that it?’

Joyce pointed accusingly at Becka. Clara visibly cringed and Jude expected awkwardness, but Becka didn’t seem to care a jot that she’d been overheard.

‘Actually sometimes, yes, I do,’ she said. ‘I heard all about the shitshow on the walk I missed and I can’t imagine why you’d take us back to the same farm.’

‘Because this walk has always been on the schedule for today and I don’t see why we should be scared off a public footpath when we have the right to roam it.’

‘But it sounds like that man you ran into was a bit of a psycho,’ Becka countered, ‘and I have to say that I can see why if your Rex was out of control and chasing the sheep. You do know that it’s perfectly legal for a farmer to shoot a dog in that situation.’

Joyce bristled at the notion. ‘I’d like to have seen him try.’ Her sizeable chest heaved as she vented. ‘Rex was doing no harm, he’s not a vicious dog, he just likes to play.’

It was Jude’s turn to bristle. She’d heard enough of this nonsense on her own land from other walkers. ‘Actually, if I might step in here,’ she said. ‘I know it may seem to you as though your dog isn’t dangerous, but the sheep don’t know that. Every year thousands of sheep die just from trying to escape from so-called friendly dogs.’

‘See,’ said Becka. ‘And yet here we are heading back to the same field.’

Joyce twirled her dog lead in her hand as though she wanted to use it to throttle Becka.

‘I suppose you think you’d make a better head of the society?’

‘Come on, Aunt Joyce.’ Phil stepped in to try and defuse the situation. ‘You know how much we all appreciate what you do.’

‘That’s not what it sounds like.’ Joyce was staring at Becka with bulging eyes. ‘It sounds as though people are doubting my competency. Well, it’s not as easy as I make it look, you know. It’s not just planning routes, it’s also checking the terrain, marking out loo stops and then there’s the paperwork.’

‘That’s not what I’m saying, Joyce.’ Becka held Joyce’s stare. ‘It would just be nice if there was a little wiggle room when taking into account the thoughts of other members of the group too.’

‘Other members like you?’ Joyce stopped walking and glared at Becka.

‘I will always speak up when I see something I think is wrong.’ Becka held Joyce’s stare, matching it with one of her own.

‘I know your game.’ Joyce’s top lip curled. ‘You are a troublemaker, sowing the seeds of discontent to try and shake things up. I know exactly what you’re doing and I am telling you to stop.’

For a moment it was as though the two women were connected by a silent and yet crackling battle of wills as they stared at each other unflinchingly. Two alpha females locked together in conflict that seemed to be completely out of proportion for the situation, whilst everyone else in the group fell into an uncomfortable silence.

‘I will not turn a blind eye when I see something happening that is fundamentally wrong or damaging in some way.’ Becka maintained eye contact with Joyce. Jude definitely got a sense that this was somehow about more than the walking group.

Joyce stepped forwards in a move that was clearly supposed to be threatening. ‘I suggest you think very carefully about the consequences of your actions.’

‘Let’s not allow this to ruin the walk,’ said Binnie. ‘Joyce, you know we all value you and everything you do, I think Becka was just making the point that other opinions can be valid too.’

Joyce backed off a little but didn’t drop eye contact with Becka.

‘I set this group up and I run it smoothly and for the maximum enjoyment of all members,’ she said in a steady but forceful voice, ‘and if you aren’t on board with the way I do things then do feel free to hand your membership card in at any point.’

Joyce had said her piece and was clearly not about to wait for a response. She pushed her thumbs into the straps of her rucksack and turned on her heel to stride away.

Becka looked at Jude and rolled her eyes. Jude felt a sinking in her stomach. According to the lengthy itinerary that had been emailed out, she wouldn’t be back in her Land Rover until around three that afternoon, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. It was going to be a long day and she was grateful for the large Thermos of tea and tub of brownies that were stowed safely in her backpack.

2

Thankfully, the next leg of the walk went without further altercations and Jude was beginning to enjoy herself. She chatted more with Becka and Clara and they were joined by Andy, a man who wore funky thick-rimmed glasses and a neatly trimmed beard that was at odds with his out-of-control mop of hair. Jude had quickly noticed that he had a certain effect on Clara, who hung on his every word and surreptitiously sneaked glances at him from time to time.

‘Am I right in thinking that Binnie told me you’re a writer?’ Jude asked.

‘For my sins.’ Andy nodded. ‘It’s why I can’t afford to buy myself new walking gear.’ He lifted his leg to show a small split in the seam of his trousers.

‘Oops.’ Jude thought about the rips and holes in many of her own work clothes. ‘What is it you write?’

‘He writes the most exciting crime novels,’ Clara cut in, her eyes shining. ‘They’re so good, and very real too. You worked as a prison officer, didn’t you, Andy?’

Andy looked a little uncomfortable at the sudden enthusiastic spotlight. ‘That’s right. I worked for HM Prison Service for too many years before I decided it was time to get out and carve a different life for myself. But my time on the inside definitely gave me lots of story fodder.’

‘I bet it did,’ said Jude.

Apart from the one clash between Becka and Joyce, who’d given each other a wide berth since, it was lovely to be out in the sunshine talking to new people and Jude was surprised how much she was enjoying herself. She was interested in other people’s lives and was happy to talk to Clara about her job at the QinetiQ science centre that had brought her to Malvern, and to Becka about growing up in the area. By the time they came out of the woods at the bottom of the hills, she knew all about Becka’s job as a financial adviser and Clara’s desire to set down long-term roots locally.

The day had really warmed up and the sky was a beautiful cloudless blue. The summer had scorched the countryside and many of the pasture fields were still golden; the cereal fields though, now harvested and ready for the next round of sowing, were brown and expectant.

Jude had never been on this route before. That was one of the glories of the Malvern Hills, there was always a new track or hidden path to discover, no matter how long you spent exploring them.

They carried on, following the marked trail as it skirted several other fields and dipped in and out of woodland until Joyce decreed that they’d reached the designated elevenses stopping point. To give her due credit, it was the perfect place to rest with beautiful views out across the countryside towards the pretty market town of Ledbury.

Phil poured himself a steaming cup of tea from his flask. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this,’ he said as he took a sip – which he then spat out across the grass. ‘Eurgh! Aunt Joyce, the milk must have turned, this tastes revolting.’

Joyce took the flask and gave it a sniff. ‘Nothing wrong with that. I had it in my porridge this morning.’

‘She’s had virtually no sense of taste or smell since she had Covid,’ Phil muttered darkly as he poured the rest of the tea away.

Jude sat down on a grassy tussock and pulled out the tub of brownies from her rucksack. She broke one in half and offered it to Flo and Brian.

‘Excuse fingers. My sister makes the best brownies and I have plenty, would you like some?’

‘Sorry, Jude,’ Joyce cut in. ‘I thought I’d sent you the rambling rules?’

‘Um, yes, you did.’ Jude felt as though she were a child being reprimanded for committing some terrible faux pas. ‘No sharing of food, but it’s only a bit of brownie.’

Joyce laid out a small square of tarpaulin to sit on. ‘I’m afraid not. It sets a precedent, you see. If people bring food to share then it makes everyone feel as though it’s expected and then we all end up having to carry far too much.’

Jude caught Binnie’s eye, hidden from Joyce’s view. She was pulling a face and it was all Jude could do not to burst out laughing.

‘Actually, do you know what, Jude?’ Becka sat down next to Jude and held her hand out. ‘I would love a brownie, that’s such a nice thing to do. Thank you.’

This put Jude into an awkward and frankly ridiculous position. Risk the wrath of Joyce and a frosty atmosphere for the rest of the walk or deny Becka a brownie which just seemed so childish?

Rex, Joyce’s bouncy Alsatian, decided he’d make the decision easier for everyone, lunging for the Tupperware container and sending the whole lot flying.

‘Don’t let him eat those,’ Joyce bellowed. ‘Chocolate is poisonous for dogs.’

Becka grabbed the dog by his collar to keep him away whilst Jude scooped the ruined brownies back into the Tupperware and snapped the lid back on, feeling bereft at the waste. There was, of course, no sign of an apology from Joyce who came over with a thunderous face that made it clear she thought the whole episode was Jude’s fault. Her mood darkened further when Becka let go of the collar before Joyce was quite ready and Rex tore off across the field before Joyce had the chance to clip his lead on.

‘Now look what you’ve done,’ she huffed before walking briskly in the direction of the dog, hollering for him to return this instant.

‘Here.’ Becka held out a half packet of chocolate digestives whilst Joyce was preoccupied. ‘Before Atilla sees us.’

It wasn’t a homemade brownie but it tasted good nonetheless and went very well with the flask of tea that Jude had brought with her.

Binnie came to sit next to them.

‘She’s not all bad,’ she said quietly. ‘I think in her day, when she was working her way up the ladder in the police force, it was much harder for women to gain the respect of their colleagues. I suppose she had to develop a steel core and it made her who she is now.’

‘I never thought of it like that,’ said Becka.

‘Actually, she is tough as old boots,’ said Phil. ‘Always has been. When they were children, my father used to call her Joyceph Stalin because it was always her way or you’d be thrown in the Gulag.’

Becka snorted at the nickname. ‘That’s really good. I’ll remember that next time I’m being told off.’

‘I don’t know how you live with her, mate,’ said Andy. ‘And all that Darby and Joaning she does.’

‘Darby and what?’ Binnie asked.

‘Moaning,’ Andy explained. ‘It would do my nut in.’

‘It’s only a short-term thing.’ Phil screwed the lid back on his now empty flask. ‘My ex-wife has taken me to the cleaners and my ex-business partner is currently up on charges of fraud which hasn’t done the company much good.’

‘Sorry to hear that.’ Jude imagined that times must be tough indeed if Phil’s best option was to move in with his demanding aunt.

Phil stood up. ‘Don’t feel too sorry for me. I’m lucky that I live rent free and Aunt Joyce is actually a pretty good cook.’ He dusted off his walking trousers. ‘She’s been kind to me and honestly, I’d have been stuck without her.’

He looked over towards his aunt, who was still battling with Rex. ‘I’d better go and see if I can help her. For someone who can usually make any human do exactly what she wants, she’s completely rubbish with that dog.’

‘I hope she keeps him on his lead now,’ said Binnie. ‘We’re about to head into Frank’s sheep fields and I don’t want to see a repeat of the fracas between Joyce and Damien.’

‘Damien?’ Becka asked.

‘The man who threatened us last time,’ said Binnie.

‘Oh.’ Becka looked a little unnerved at the mention of the man which Jude found surprising as she had thus far come across as a very unflappable sort of person.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Jude, ‘the farm is huge so we’d be really unlucky to run into him.’

With the picnic things packed up and Rex finally caught and on the lead, they resumed their walk along the edge of the wood until they came to a stile marked with a green footpath sign.

Jude looked into the field on the other side and saw a large flock of Suffolk ewes with black faces and down-turned ears. Plenty of them had blue marks on their backs and Jude knew that this meant they were already pregnant with next spring’s lambs.

‘Please make sure you keep your dogs on their leads in here,’ she said. ‘These girls have babies growing and need to be kept as stress-free as possible.’

‘Thank you, Jude.’ Joyce puffed out her chest as she put her foot on the stile. ‘I think you made your point very clear earlier.’

Jude bit her tongue but was glad to see that Rex was still on his lead as Phil manoeuvred him through the stile into the field. Jude went next and, as she stepped up onto the wooden stile, her heart dropped into her walking boots as she saw a quad bike parked alongside the water trough. She instantly recognised the figure sitting on it as Frank’s weaselly farm-worker, Damien, who started the quad and tore across the field to meet them.

‘We have the right to pass through your field,’ Joyce shouted as soon as Damien jumped from the quad in front of them. ‘This is a circular route from British Camp and it is clearly marked on the OS map.’

‘Last time you buggers were here we nearly lost several ewes, so don’t you go telling me about your rights and that.’

He leant over into the dog box attached to the back of the quad and pulled out a shotgun. There was a collective gasp as he aimed it into the air and pulled the trigger, sending a loud crack into the sky above him.

3

Clara gave a startled yelp and Andy put his hand on her shoulder. Rex started barking and pulling hard on the lead and Jude hoped that Phil had a decent hold on him because she had no doubt that if he let go and the dog started charging around the pregnant ewes, Damien would not worry about using the second barrel of the gun to stop him.

‘For the love of God, Damien. What the hell are you playing at?’ Jude knew he was a loose cannon but this was ridiculous behaviour.

‘I don’t know what business you’ve got roaming around the countryside with this lot, Jude, but you should know better than any what a nuisance these dog-walking types are.’ Damien shouldered the gun, still pointing at the sky.

‘It is an offence to brandish a loaded weapon, sir.’ Binnie stepped forward. ‘Detective Inspector Khatri of the West Mercia Police Force. If you don’t disarm yourself, I’m going to have to arrest you.’

‘Pah,’ Damien sneered but he did break the gun open and folded it over the crook of his arm. ‘It shouldn’t be allowed, this tramping all over decent people’s land. It’s them who want to be kept in check.’

‘Look, Damien.’ Jude tried for her best pacifying tone. ‘Of course I understand how important it is to keep our animals safe but you and I both know that when there’s a footpath that runs through our land, it’s our duty to keep it open. All our dogs are on leads so we’re going to carry on our walk and leave you to it.’

Frustratingly it didn’t seem as though Joyce was quite as keen to move on whilst she thought she still held the upper hand. ‘You have stepped outside of the law and I will make sure you’re held to account for your actions.’ She pointed a stubby finger at Damien. ‘Retired Detective Inspector Mason, also of West Mercia Police. Expect a call from my colleagues soon.’

Joyce lifted her chin an inch or two and turned purposefully away as though to show that this was the final word. ‘Come on, everyone. We still have a couple of miles to go before we reach our lunch stop and then it’s another hour or two before we’ll be back at British Camp so there’s no time for fussing over this man.’ She started to stride out across the field with Phil, Flo and Brian following silently behind.

Binnie and Jude stayed put to wait for the others who had yet to climb over the stile and were looking reluctant to do so.

‘Jude, you can tell that battleaxe she can threaten me with the law as much as she likes but when it comes down to it, I can put a bullet in that dog of hers if it bothers any of these sheep again, do you hear?’ Damien’s thin features had drawn in on themselves and Jude found herself gripping Pip and Alfie’s leads a little tighter.

‘She won’t be coming back through here again,’ said Jude. ‘But be careful, Damien. She’s right about you stepping onto the wrong side of the law waving that thing around and if she wants to press charges, or anyone else does for that matter, you’re going to find yourself in trouble that neither you nor Frank need.’

Damien stared at her with eyes that seemed to be as loaded as his shotgun. Jude felt as though he was sizing up his choices and she was very glad when he decided to throw the gun back in the dog box and climb onto the quad. ‘Go on then. Get off this land whilst I’m watching to make sure that you do.’

Despite the fact that he was behaving like an arsehole, Jude knew that the best way to avoid any further problems was to do as he said. She turned back to the walkers still on the other side of the stile. ‘Come on, let’s get going.’

Andy and Clara climbed over and headed across the path towards Joyce and the others who were already nearly at the other side. Becka seemed to be hanging back and Jude thought she saw her take a deep breath and shake her head a little before climbing onto the little wooden step. As she stepped down into the field, she squared her shoulders and looked Damien firmly in the face.

‘Hello, Damien,’ she said. ‘Long time no see.’

Damien’s eyes popped from his head and he stared at her for a second before jumping from the quad, his fists clenched and the muscles of his bare arms taut as he focused furiously on Becka.

‘You’re bloody kidding me,’ he yelled. ‘Can’t you keep away from me, is that it? Planning on buggering up my life some more?’

He pushed past a surprised Jude to get to Becka, who stood her ground admirably.

‘If you must know, I’d never have come if I’d realised that the arsey thug I heard hung around these fields was you.’ If Becka was fazed by the strength of the man’s anger then she handled it well, helped by the fact that Binnie and Andy had moved so that they now flanked her.

‘I think you should back off,’ Andy said and Jude could hear more of a quake in his voice than she’d noticed in Becka’s. ‘We just want to carry on with our walk.’

‘The rest of you can do what you like, but I want a word with your friend.’ Damien gave Becka a threatening poke in the chest.

‘Hey.’ Binnie put an arm between them. ‘That’s enough. Touch her again and I’ll have to arrest you on a charge of assault.’

‘Shame you can’t charge her instead.’ Damien dropped his arm and took a step back. ‘Arrest her for meddling in other people’s business.’

He turned to leave but had one final shot to impart over his shoulder. ‘I don’t forget things easy, Becka Turgis. Watch your back.’

‘Are you okay?’ Andy asked Becka as Damien zoomed away on his quad bike.

‘It’s fine. I had to bump into him at some point, I suppose. We have a somewhat tempestuous history and it’s been a while since our paths last crossed. Come on, let’s get walking.’ She looked a little shaky perhaps but much less so than Jude imagined she’d have been in the same situation.

‘If you want to make a formal complaint about him then you’d be well within your rights,’ said Binnie as they set off again to rejoin the others.

‘He’s full of hot air really, always has been,’ said Becka. ‘He used to go out with one of my best friends so I know the way he works. He’s a bully, a coward and a shirker.’

‘Why did he have such a problem with you?’ Clara asked.

‘Because I didn’t like the way he treated my friend. It was like Alice was expected to be his servant and he was so rude to her but for some reason she still decided to get engaged to him. Then, when she was offered an amazing job in Italy, he forbade her from going.’

Jude felt her eyebrows shoot towards the sky. ‘I’m sorry, he forbade her?’

‘No discussions or compromises, just told Alice that she couldn’t take the job. And the daft thing was that she almost went along with it, they’d even got as far as finding a flat in town to rent together – although every penny of the rent came from her.’

Jude was furious on behalf of Becka’s friend but sensed that the story had a happier ending for her than it had for Damien.

‘She didn’t stick around though?’ she asked.

‘Not after I sat her down and told her a few home truths. By the time I’d finished, Alice emailed the company to accept their offer, gave notice on the flat and called Damien to break off the engagement.’

‘I bet he was furious,’ Clara said.

‘He clearly still hasn’t got over it, and I think it’s safe to say that he still blames me.’

The spark in Becka’s eyes told Jude that far from being concerned by Damien’s outburst, she was actually proud of the fact that she’d protected her friend from a lifetime of misery with him.

Everyone was glad to reach the Chase Inn for lunch and Jude and Andy pulled two picnic benches in the garden to meet so that the whole group could sit together. The dogs drank gratefully from the water bowls provided whilst the tired walkers perused the menu.

‘The paninis look good,’ said Clara. ‘Or there’s all the usuals, fish and chips, scampi, burgers.’

‘I don’t care what I eat as long as it comes with plenty of chips,’ said Andy. ‘I’m ravenous after that walk.’

They chose their food and drinks, and Binnie and Phil went inside to place the order.

‘Are you really not going to report that man?’ Andy asked Becka. ‘He as good as assaulted you.’

Becka shook her head. ‘No point. It won’t stop him being angry and really no harm was done.’

‘But he did shoot a shotgun into the air. Is it even legal to have one just casually out with him like that?’

Joyce took a pair of sunglasses from her backpack and put them on. ‘If he has the correct licence then it is legal. It is, however, against the law to wave it around in that manner, and to discharge it without due care so, yes, when I get home, I shall be calling it in.’

This was not what Jude wanted to hear as it would drive an even bigger wedge between the farmers and those using the footpaths through their land. Not to mention the impact on Frank if Damien had to miss work because he was tangled up in a court case.

‘I know he behaved abhorrently,’ she said, ‘but can I suggest that you leave it there now and if possible avoid going back through the farm on future walks?’

Joyce looked at her over the top of her sunglasses with disdain. ‘No, I don’t think so. People like that need to be held accountable for their actions. I’m sure that is something we can all agree on.’

Jude felt uncomfortable as she threw the next point in but it needed to be said. ‘The trouble is that if you were to report him, then he might feel it his duty to report you for the attack on Frank’s sheep, which is also a criminal act.’

Joyce’s mouth fell open as she tried to counter Jude’s argument but respite came at that moment in the shape of Binnie and Phil with two trays of drinks.

‘We’ve started a tab,’ said Binnie. ‘We can settle up at the end.’

Joyce took a deep swig of ginger beer. She said nothing more about Damien, the gun or Rex’s adventures in the sheep field and Jude hoped that was now the end of the subject.

Thankfully the conversation turned to more jovial things and the chatter was friendly as the walkers sat in the sunshine, resting their feet. The food, when it arrived, was a welcome sight and Jude’s stomach rumbled appreciatively when her bacon and brie sandwich was put down in front of her.

‘Before we start eating, I’d just like to say thanks to Joyce for putting together this walk for us today,’ said Clara, picking up her lime and soda water to salute their leader. ‘You’ve thought of everything and, despite the obvious little hiccup, I’m having a lovely day.’

Everyone raised their glasses and toasted Joyce who looked both pleased and embarrassed about the gesture.

‘Joyce, you certainly have a superpower for organisation.’ Becka picked up a chip and blew on it. ‘I wonder what other superpowers we have between us as a group.’ She bit into the hot chip, fanning her mouth as steam escaped.

‘Ooh, this sounds like a good game,’ said Andy. ‘What would your superpowers be? Looking at you right now, I’d say it might be fire breathing.’

Becka swallowed the chip and washed it down with a generous gulp of water. ‘That’s the roof of my mouth gone,’ she said. ‘But no, my superpower is that I have an incredible memory.’

‘Really?’ Clara cut into her battered fish.

‘Absolutely,’ said Becka. ‘Especially when it comes to people. I never forget the face of a person I’ve met, and I am excellent at remembering where I met them, even if it was many years ago.’ She looked around each member of the group in turn and tapped her temple. ‘Consider yourselves logged.’

‘I wish I had that talent,’ said Binnie. ‘My memory is terrible.’

‘What would your superpower be then, Binnie?’ Clara asked.

‘I’m not sure I really have one.’

Jude wanted to say something about the power of friendship but she thought that might be a little corny so instead she suggested that Binnie’s superpower was the art of looking immaculate no matter what time of day it was or what she was doing. ‘I mean, look at you now. We’ve been walking all day and I feel like I must be as shiny and red as a tomato but you still look as though you only just applied your make-up, it’s incredible.’

There was a lot of friendly chatter that followed which continued as they finished up and left the pub to walk the steep incline to the ridge of the hills which took them all the way back to British Camp.

When they were in the car park, Joyce looked at her watch. ‘Three fifteen. Only fifteen minutes behind schedule. Thank you all for joining me and I look forward to seeing you again in two Sundays’ time. Itinerary will be emailed out this week but the schedule shows us meeting at Eastnor to explore the far end of the hills.’

Rex was finally tired and the lead was slack as Joyce led him back to her car.

‘See you at home, Aunt Joyce,’ Phil called after her. ‘I have some things to do in town first.’

The other walkers congregated around the back of Becka’s car, saying their goodbyes. They all waved as Joyce’s Fiat drove past, the driver hunched purposefully over the steering wheel.

‘How did you find your first walk with us, Jude?’ Phil asked. ‘Think you’ll join us again or has my aunt scared you off?’

Jude hadn’t planned on going on any more of the ramblers’ walks, having done what she’d promised Binnie and helped keep the peace between Joyce and Damien – sort of – but she hadn’t expected to enjoy the company of the other walkers as much as she had. All in all, it had been a surprisingly good day.

‘The farm keeps me pretty busy so I can’t commit to every walk but I have had a great time so would love to join you again.’

‘That’s good to hear.’ Flo gave her arm a squeeze. ‘It was lovely having you with us.’

‘And you seem to know how to handle our great leader too which is a big bonus.’ Becka chuckled. ‘Right, troops, I have to get on but it was nice to see you all. Have a good week, everyone.’

They all said goodbye to Becka as she got into her car but Binnie wasn’t ready to head off herself just yet.

‘I’m going to get Jude some Rocky Road from the kiosk before we go, to make up for the lost brownies,’ said Binnie. ‘Anyone care to join us for a hot chocolate before you go?’

‘Ooh, yes, please.’ Clara waved to Becka as she drove out of the car park. ‘That’s a great idea.’

‘It is tempting but we should get back.’ Brian bent down and scooped up Hamble, the terrier. ‘This little lady is going to sleep for a week after all of that fresh air and exercise.’

Flo nuzzled into her dog’s neck. ‘Let’s get you home, my precious girl.’

Andy took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. ‘I have to head off too. Things to do.’

Jude saw Clara glance towards him, looking a little downcast, and wondered if he had any idea how Clara so obviously felt about him. He certainly showed no sign of it as he lifted the phone to his ear to take a call.

Phil also needed to leave and soon there was a little procession exiting the car park as Jude, Binnie and Clara waited to cross over the road.

The kiosk was busy but they managed to find a table under a sunshade to sit with their hot chocolates and slabs of Rocky Road.

‘It’s a shame the others couldn’t stay on,’ said Clara. ‘What did you make of them all?’

‘I really liked them,’ Jude said. ‘Andy seems very nice, easy company.’

‘He’s really sweet.’ Clara looked away and took a great interest in the brown-speckled foam on top of her hot chocolate.

‘You should tell him.’ Binnie’s eyes danced with the thrill of a little matchmaking.

‘What?’ Clara looked up. ‘Oh, no. I think Becka’s more his cup of tea. They go out sometimes, just the two of them, you know.’

Binnie obviously hadn’t been any wiser to this than Jude had and there was a breath of awkwardness before Jude broke it.

‘How are you finding things in Malvern?’ she asked. ‘Did you say you’ve been here a year?’

‘Almost exactly. Malvern is such a beautiful place. In fact, I was actually hoping to talk to you about Malvern End,’ said Clara. ‘There’s a cottage for rent in the village, available immediately, and I’m very tempted. It seems like a really nice place to live.’

‘I obviously love it,’ said Jude. ‘It’s not the cottage at the end of the terrace, just across from the duck pond, is it?’

‘That’s the one.’

‘I know it well.’ The cottage was still owned by Granny Margot, Jude’s great friend who now lived in Perrins House Care Home. Jude had many memories linked to the cottage, the very best and the very worst. ‘My friend, Marco, actually bought the one two doors down from you a few months ago. Let me know if you decide to go for it and I’ll introduce you to him and some of the other neighbours. I also know the owner if you want me to put in a good word.’

Clara’s smile was gentle and honest. ‘Thank you. I need to check the commute across to work but I’ve always wanted to live out in the countryside so I am very tempted to just say yes and then figure everything else out.’

‘You could definitely do worse than Malvern End,’ said Jude.

They chatted on about the village and Jude gave her the lowdown on the pros and cons of living out in the countryside.

‘Thanks for all the info, I think I might well go for it.’ Clara glanced at her watch. ‘I suppose I should head off as I have a load of prep work I need to have ready for tomorrow.’ She stood up.

‘Bye, it was nice to meet you,’ said Jude.

‘Thanks for coming with me,’ said Binnie when Clara had gone. ‘Things could have turned very nasty between Damien and Joyce if you hadn’t been there to act as peacekeeper. And for Becka too.’

Jude thought back to the potentially explosive incident down on Frank’s farm. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I’d say Becka was more than capable of holding her own. I can’t help thinking how weird it was though. Damien being there, just sitting on the quad with the gun ready.’

‘I was wondering about that too,’ Binnie agreed. ‘Worth having a word with Frank, do you think? If Damien has got into the habit of driving around with a loaded shotgun then I can see all sorts of problems ahead for Frank and the farm.’

‘I’ll have a chat with Noah. He can talk to his dad.’ Jude untied the dogs who were both lying down next to her and stood up. ‘But that wasn’t the only odd thing. What did you make of that argument between Joyce and Becka?’

‘I got the feeling that it had been brewing for a while.’ Binnie picked up her backpack and hung it over her shoulder.

‘I agree,’ said Jude, who had been surprised by the vigour of a seemingly unimportant disagreement. ‘I’d say there’s definitely more beef between those two than just who gets to make the decisions about walking routes and sharing brownies.’

Jude and Binnie were deep in conversation about the merits and pitfalls of Joyce Mason as they got into the Land Rover and drove back along Jubilee Drive. It had been an interesting walk and Joyce was a tricky character in many ways, but there was no denying that she was a brilliant organiser.

‘Holy cow,’ said Jude as she came out of a tight left bend and saw that the old metal railings marking the edge of the road had been ripped out of shape. A mangled gash had opened the road up to the steep drop on the other side. ‘There’s a car down there.’

With her heart pounding, she pulled into a layby on the hillside of the road and jumped out of the car. Binnie was right behind her, already with her phone in her hand to call the emergency services.

Jude looked through the mangled railing at the little red car that had left the road and rolled down the side of the hill, one of the few areas with no trees to halt it. It was on its side with the front bumper angled slightly downhill and the heavily dented roof blocking her view of anyone still inside. And then, with a sinking heart, Jude realised she recognised the car. She could see the first half of the number plate – SBI3. It had struck her as amusing when she’d spotted it leaving the British Camp car park earlier as it looked a little like her nephew Sebbie’s name.

‘Oh God,’ she whispered. ‘It’s Becka.’

4

Jude climbed through the gap in the railings into the dense bracken that covered that part of the hill. The car had left behind a flattened path, spilling pieces of metal and shattered glass as it went, and she half slipped, half scrambled down to try and reach it.

‘Careful, Jude,’ Binnie called. ‘It isn’t safe. Wait for the emergency services to get here.’

‘I think it’s Becka’s car,’ Jude shouted back. ‘I can’t just leave her. She might be trapped inside.’

As she slid down the crushed bracken towards the car, Jude was thinking about how much time had passed since Becka had left them to drive home. It had been around three fifteen then and she knew it was nudging four now so the car must have left the road over half an hour ago. How many people had driven past in that time? And why had none of them thought to stop? It could mean the difference between help arriving on time, or them being too late.

‘Becka,’ she called as she struggled down the bank towards the car which had only been stopped from rolling further by the trunk of a single evergreen tree. Barely more than a sapling, the spindly trunk had been pushed forward but was holding fast – for the moment at least.

There was no reply from inside the car and Jude approached with care, finding that the driver’s door was pointing skywards and she couldn’t get to it. She made her way gingerly round to the front in order to get a look through the windscreen which had shattered into a complex jigsaw. Using her elbow, Jude tapped gently on the glass to release the pieces without sending them scattering all over the driver inside. With the way clear, she could see Becka, held in place by her seatbelt with blood pouring from a nasty gash on her head.

‘Becka,’ Jude called. ‘Becka, can you hear me? It’s Jude Gray, from the walking group. Help is coming.’

Jude tested the bonnet of the car to see if she could somehow pull herself up and through the windscreen to get to Becka but there was a terrible creak that came either from the car itself or the bent tree trunk supporting its weight.

‘Stop, Jude.’ Binnie had followed her down and was almost with her. ‘It’s too dangerous. You’re going to have to move away from the car and just wait for fire and rescue to arrive.’

‘She’s in there,’ Jude yelled. ‘I can’t tell if she’s unconscious or—’ She left the dreadful alternative unspoken. ‘She’s unresponsive and there’s an enormous cut on her head.’

‘You can’t reach her safely,’ shouted Binnie. ‘If you try, you’re only going to make things worse. That tree could give and then the car would carry on down the hill taking Becka and you with it.’

Jude knew Binnie was right and yet she was desperate to do something other than just sit tight and wait whilst there was a chance Becka was still alive.

‘I mean it, Jude.’ There was a grave warning in Binnie’s voice and Jude had to heed it. She stayed close to the windscreen and kept up a steady stream of chatter to try and reassure Becka that she wasn’t alone and help was coming until she heard the welcome sound of sirens.

It had been a complex and difficult job involving many people from across the emergency services to secure the car and retrieve Becka from inside, remarkably still clinging on to the vapours of life. Binnie and Jude were allowed to stay on the scene until she was in the ambulance and they were there to witness the panic of losing her heartbeat, the paramedics trying emergency resuscitation and finally the anguish of calling her time of death.

By the time they pulled into the farmyard later that evening, they were wrung out and in a state of shock. The front door flew open and Lucy ran to meet them.

‘What happened? Noah and I have been calling you, we thought you’d be home hours ago.’ Lucy stopped when she saw the looks on their faces. ‘What is it?’

‘We came across a crash on the way home,’ said Jude. ‘Someone from the walking group went off the road on Jubilee Drive. It was a real mess.’

‘Oh my goodness. Were they okay?’

Jude shook her head. ‘Died at the scene, before they could get her to hospital.’ The guilt of not being able to save Becka was raw. If she’d tried harder to get into the car instead of waiting for the ambulance to arrive, would those extra minutes have made the difference? And why had nobody else stopped to help?

‘There was nothing we could have done,’ said Binnie. ‘Her injuries were too great and if we’d tried to move her before the rescue team made the car safe, it would have taken us out too.’

‘Come on.’ Lucy linked an arm each with Jude and Binnie and led them through the kitchen door where Noah and Sebbie were sitting together eating bangers and mash, a third plate half-finished next to them.

‘Hey there, weary walkers,’ Noah said. ‘How goes it?’

‘We’re having sausages,’ said Sebbie. ‘Mummy said you were too late so we could start before you.’

‘They smell delicious.’ Jude walked over to kiss her young nephew. ‘Have you been painting today as well?’

Sebbie held up the A4 sheet of card that was covered in green paint with several white, black and brown splodges in the middle which could possibly be animals. ‘I did it for you. This one is Alfie, this one is Pip, this one is Pancake and can you guess this one?’

He pointed at a brown animal slightly bigger than the others and Jude could tell straight away who it was supposed to be.

‘If she’s next to Pancake then it must be good old Gertie.’ She was rewarded for her clever deduction skills with an enthusiastic ‘Yes!’ It hadn’t been a tricky question. Of all the animals on the farm, Pancake the Cheviot sheep who Jude had rescued and petted as a newborn, her companion Gertie, the Golden Guernsey goat, and of course the dogs were Sebbie’s favourites.

‘Binnie, will you stay for supper?’ Lucy asked. ‘There’s plenty to go around.’

‘Thanks for the offer but I have a long week ahead so I think I’ll get home and have an early night. It’s been a hell of a day and I suppose I’d better send an email out to the rest of the walking group to tell them what happened.’ She wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I still can’t believe it.’

‘Will you be okay?’ Jude asked.

‘Don’t worry about me. We’ll catch up tomorrow.’ Binnie gave Jude and Lucy a kiss then she waved towards the table where Sebbie and Noah were still sitting. ‘Enjoy the sausages.’

Jude stood by the door and watched Binnie get into her car. A lot had happened since she’d parked it at the farm that morning and they’d set off for their walk.

Sebbie was finishing off his supper as Jude rejoined her family.

‘Are you all ready for school tomorrow?’ She went over to sit with them at the table where a plate of bangers, mash, peas and onion gravy had been set out for her.

‘I have read my book three times and Mummy wrote it in my reading record.’

‘Well done you.’ Jude picked up her knife and fork and cut into a sausage. ‘Miss Elgar will be very pleased with you.’

Sebbie had started down at the village school the previous month and so far he loved everything about it. The classroom that spilt outside under an all-weather canopy; the bright displays on the walls; his classmates, many of whom had been at nursery with him the year before; and of course his wonderful teacher. Miss Elgar had worked at Malvern End Primary for almost forty years and was the epitome of perfection in the classroom.

‘If you’ve had enough to eat, do you want to get down from the table and have a bit of a play before it’s bath time?’ Lucy asked.

Sebbie didn’t need to be asked twice. He swizzled round in his chair so that he could push himself forwards and drop his feet to the floor.

‘What do you say to your mum?’ Noah asked.

‘Thank you for my food,’ Sebbie called backwards as he darted from the kitchen and raced off to find his toys in the playroom at the back of the farmhouse. Alfie was quick to skitter across the flagstoned floor to follow but, although Pip lifted her head to see what was going on, she wasn’t tempted to join them.

Jude put a forkful of gravy-covered sausage into her mouth and felt the weight of the day begin to sink in.

‘Everything okay, Jude?’ Noah asked. ‘You look wiped out, Binnie too.’

‘There was a crash on their way home,’ Lucy interjected whilst Jude chewed her sausage. ‘Someone died.’

Jude swallowed her mouthful and took a drink from the glass of cold Westons cider that Noah had put down for her. ‘She’d been on the walk with us, one of the original rambling group from what I gather.’

‘Crikey,’ said Noah. ‘That’s awful. Was anyone else hurt?’

‘No. She was alone in the car and somehow managed to drive off the side of Jubilee Drive.’

‘Nasty.’ Noah sat back in his chair and there was quiet for a moment as everyone contemplated the awfulness of the situation. Then the sound of a car crunching over the drive filtered through the kitchen window.

‘You expecting anyone?’ Lucy asked.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Jude.

Noah stood up and went over to the window to take a look. ‘It’s Dad,’ he said, going to the door to let him in.

‘All right, Noah?’ Frank stepped into the kitchen and nodded at Jude and Lucy. ‘Girls, good to see you. Sorry to disturb your supper but I wondered if I could have a word.’

‘Of course.’ Jude pulled the chair next to her away from the table for Frank to sit in whilst Lucy scooped up Sebbie’s empty plate and moved it away to the sink.

‘There’s plenty of bangers and mash left if you’re hungry,’ Jude offered.

‘That’s kind of you,’ Frank said. ‘I wouldn’t say no.’

Noah was already on the case, dishing up the remainder of the peas with a healthy dollop of mashed potato and adding three fat sausages from the pan.

‘Thanks.’ Frank poured a generous river of gravy over his food but didn’t pick up his cutlery straight away. ‘Jude, I wanted to talk to you about what happened today with Damien.’

‘What’s this?’ Noah asked, rejoining them at the table with a small glass of cider for his father.

‘I hear those walkers we had trouble with a couple of weeks ago were back again today and you were with them.’

Jude set down her fork. ‘Binnie asked me to go along to try and keep the peace and also give a farming point of view to the whole right to roam and dogs off lead thing.’

‘You didn’t say you were going to my dad’s farm,’ Noah said.

‘I didn’t know we were until Binnie told me this morning.’

‘So what happened?’ Lucy pushed her empty plate away and leant forward, resting her elbows on the table.

‘I had a chat with Joyce, that’s the woman in charge, about her dog and I think it worked. She had him on his lead through the sheep fields this time at least.’

‘Thanks for that, Jude.’ Frank stroked his bushy grey beard and Jude could see that he was looking worried. ‘I know Damien shot his gun, I heard it from the other side of the farm and I can imagine things were a bit heated.’

‘That stupid man.’ Noah’s eyebrows drew together in annoyance. ‘What was he thinking?’

‘He was proving a point that didn’t need proving,’ said Jude.

Frank’s shoulders visibly sagged. ‘I blame myself. I shouldn’t have told him they were coming. I should have known it would rev him up.’

‘What do you mean, you shouldn’t have told him?’ Jude asked. ‘How did you know we’d be there?’

‘I had a tip-off. Some woman saying she wanted me to know so that we could watch out for them.’

‘So that’s how he knew to wait for us.’

In her mind, Jude went through the women who had been on the walk and wondered which one of them might have thought to call ahead and warn Frank. Had it been Becka? She’d been furious with the plan to revisit the farm after the chaos Joyce’s dog had caused the first time. But then she was the last person who would have wanted to bump into Damien so it seemed very unlikely. It couldn’t have been Joyce so that only left Clara and Flo and she couldn’t think of a single reason why either of them would have done it, knowing that it could cause more trouble for the group.

‘I know he’s a tricky bugger but I need him on the farm. It’s too much for one person. I just wondered about your police friend who was with you, Binnie, isn’t it? Is she going to report him? It’s just with his background – you know he was done for ABH a few years back?’

Jude grimaced. ‘It wouldn’t be good but I don’t think you need to worry, Binnie’s not planning on taking this any further. He was within his rights to have a licensed gun out on the farm and he didn’t fire it towards anyone so the most she could do is have him up for threatening behaviour.’

‘With his track record, that might be enough to see him out of action for a while though.’ Frank looked really worried at the thought.

‘Perhaps you could have a word with him, Dad?’ Noah suggested. ‘He could do with being brought into line a bit.’

‘I’ve tried many a time,’ said Frank. ‘But some folk are just rum and can’t be changed. And like I said, I can’t do without the bugger.’

‘What exactly did he do that put him behind bars?’ Jude asked.

Frank scratched the back of his head and puffed out his cheeks. ‘It was all over some woman I seem to remember. He was engaged to be married but she left him and went off to Spain, or somewhere like that.’

‘Becka mentioned her,’ said Jude. ‘Alice, I think her name was, and she left to take a job in Italy. It was Becka who encouraged her to leave Damien and it sounds like it was very good advice.’

‘That’s her,’ said Frank. ‘Whatever her reasons, Damien wasn’t best pleased. He went down the Plough and Harrow as soon as it opened every day and stayed until they threw him out at the end. Went on like that for weeks, he did. I don’t think he was even halfway sober the whole time.’

‘I remember it,’ said Noah. ‘Made a right fool of himself and in the end, Nance and Bruce at the Plough told him not to come back until he’d sorted himself out.’

‘They did,’ Frank confirmed. ‘And what did that silly bugger go and do? He picked up a bar stool and clouted Bruce with it.’

Jude had heard this story at the time but she hadn’t linked the man involved to Damien. ‘I wish you could get shot of him,’ she said to Frank.

‘My dear, so do I. But until someone else wants to come and help me out on the farm then I need him. If he’s done something stupid and landed himself in a fix again then where will I be?’

‘Well, Binnie isn’t taking it any further,’ said Jude. ‘It was Joyce who wanted to charge him with anything possible but I pointed out that if she lit the fuse then it might well backfire and she could be prosecuted for the sheep worrying. She knew I was right so hopefully that’s the end of it now.’

Frank’s shoulders dropped and he finally picked up his cutlery. ‘Thanks, Jude.’ He loaded his fork and started to bring it up to his mouth. ‘You’re a good girl.’

‘How are you getting on at the farm, Dad?’ Noah asked. ‘Have you put the tups in yet?’

Frank nodded whilst he swallowed his food. ‘First ones went in last week but I don’t mind telling you that it’s getting harder for me each year. I can’t go tackling those rams to the ground to get their raddle on these days. I’m too old for it.’

Jude and Noah had been having that exact conversation the other day when they had prepared their own tups. The male sheep were heavy and boisterous and it was hard work trying to catch one and get control of them in order to strap on the crayons that would mark the backs of the ewes they’d been with. Frank was nudging seventy now and, whilst still more than capable in many ways, he was not getting any younger.

‘You know what it’s like, Jude,’ said Frank. ‘Likes of you and me, we know what we’re good at but we couldn’t do it without the young men to help us out.’

There had been a time when Jude would have bristled at comments like this but she’d learnt that people like Frank had grown up in a world where the men worked the land and the women cooked for them and washed their work clothes when they came in off the fields. It had taken her years to prove herself as a capable farmer, something that Frank had grown to recognise and even admire. She knew the playing field was starting to level out and so she could forgive the odd slip-up. Besides, she was more than capable of catching a tup and changing the raddle, but it was definitely easier working as a pair with Noah.

‘The tenancy is coming up for renewal soon, isn’t it?’ Jude asked.

‘Next year.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Lucy asked. ‘Have you decided?’

‘Not sure I’ll even have the choice. They might want to give it to a younger person with more of a future ahead of them.’ Frank looked so gloomy at the prospect of losing the farm – it was so much more than just a job to him, as it was to most farmers – that Jude’s heart went out to him.

‘You never know,’ she said. ‘And if you do decide it’s too much for you then there’s always plenty of work around here for you to keep your hand in, if you want it.’

Frank didn’t reply but busied himself with his bangers and mash and Jude took that to mean he didn’t want to talk any further about it.

Later, when Frank had gone home and Lucy was getting Sebbie ready for bed, Jude and Noah took their cider into the sitting room and sank companionably into the old sofa. Pip and Alfie came and lay down at their feet and Jude allowed herself to give in to the exhaustion and flop back against the cushions.

‘Bit of a day for you,’ said Noah. ‘Sounds like it was a good job you were there on Dad’s farm what with that nutter waving his gun around like that.’

‘I’m just glad that seems to have been sorted now. It’s poor Becka I can’t stop thinking about.’

‘The woman in the car?’ Noah leant back against a cushion.

‘Yes. Wiped out just like that.’ Jude felt her forehead crease. ‘It’s terrifying really, isn’t it?’

‘That it is.’

‘What I can’t understand is how Binnie and I were the first ones to spot her though, it just doesn’t make any sense.’ Jude stretched her legs out in front of her, careful not to disturb the dogs.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Joyce left the car park around forty minutes before Binnie and me.’ Jude tried to recall the order in which people had driven off after that. ‘I’m sure that Becka was next to leave which means that she would have been ahead of almost all the others from our group, except Joyce, who’d already gone.’

‘So why didn’t any of them see her car go off the edge?’ Noah said.

‘Exactly. I mean, there is the chance she pulled over for some reason, maybe to answer the phone or take her coat off or whatever, and they all overtook her but then Clara went that way too ten minutes before us, not to mention all the other cars that use Jubilee Drive. But we were the first to see her.’

‘That is odd.’

Lucy came downstairs then, brandishing a toothbrush between her thumb and forefinger.

‘What’s odd?’ She held the brush out in front of her as though it was some sort of toxic waste.

‘Jude was just thinking how that woman’s car could have gone off the road and stayed there for more than half an hour with nobody seeing it,’ said Noah. ‘Talking of odd, what are you doing with that?’

Lucy looked at the toothbrush in disgust. ‘I left Sebbie alone for a moment and returned to find him using my toothbrush to clean Teddy’s teeth. When I came back in, I made him jump and he dropped it down the loo.’

‘There should be a spare one in the bathroom cupboard,’ said Jude as Lucy went to take the offending article to the kitchen bin.

When she came back, they put the television on to while away the evening but Jude couldn’t concentrate on the complexities of the police drama. She was too busy trying to work out all the possible answers to the question that had arisen regarding Becka’s car crash. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that most people would not just drive past if they saw a crashed car. They’d stop and help, or at least report it to the emergency services. Was it possible then that the reason nobody had seen her car earlier was that Becka hadn’t crashed until just before Jude and Binnie had reached that spot, making them the first to see it? If so, then what had Becka been doing during the thirty minutes or so between leaving British Camp and driving off the edge of Jubilee Drive?

And there was something else bothering her as well. Becka had been brought up in Malvern and would have been well used to the twists and turns of the hillside roads. It seemed almost impossible that she’d have lost control and crashed with enough force to send her through the barrier and down the hill… Unless something else had happened. Something that had made her drive too fast, lose concentration, veer suddenly or perhaps a mix of all of these things.

Jude felt the certainty of this at her very core. There was more to Becka’s crash and every inch of her was champing at the bit to find out exactly what had happened.

5

Monday arrived with October storm clouds filling the sky and a yellow hue painting the countryside, both of which promised rain – and plenty of it.

Lucy was working a full-day shift at the care home so she buttoned Sebbie’s coat over his clean school uniform and bundled him into the back of the car to take him to breakfast club which, luckily, he loved.

‘Have a good day,’ Jude said as she armed him with his lunch box and book bag before shutting the car door.

‘Say hi to Granny Margot for me.’ Jude kissed her sister on the cheek as Lucy opened the driver’s door. ‘Oh, and let her know that I was talking to someone on the walk yesterday who seems really keen to rent the cottage. Clara’s lovely too, works down at the science centre but wants to move more out of town.’

‘Will do. It’s been empty for a while now so she’ll be pleased to get someone in. Personally, I think she should sell it but she seems adamant she doesn’t want to.’ Lucy got in the car. ‘I meant to ask if you could come with us on our trip to Hampton Court on Wednesday? We need a couple of volunteers to push wheelchairs.’

‘London Hampton Court or the Herefordshire one?’

‘Don’t be daft, of course we’re not taking them all to London.’ Lucy threw her a look of abject horror. ‘Can you imagine the number of loo stops we’d have to find on the way and the chaos of losing someone at the motorway services?’

‘I’ve learnt with you that it’s always safest to check.’

‘No, it’s definitely Hereford. We’ve got two minibuses booked and there’s a free lunch in it for you.’ Lucy was pulling her best pleading face and Jude rolled her eyes in defeat.

‘Let me check that Noah is happy holding the fort for the day.’

‘Thanks, I’ll let Gerwain know.’ Lucy blew Jude a kiss and shut the car door.

Jude bent down to tap on the window. ‘Make sure you also tell him that I’ll be pushing Granny Margot. I don’t want to be landed with someone who smells of cabbage, calls me Lady Hitler and doesn’t stop swearing at everyone and everything again.’

‘That was only one time and Patsy was having a bad day with her meds.’

‘Lucy—’ Jude added a warning tone to her voice.

‘Fine. You get Margot and I’ll take Patsy.’

As Lucy drove away, the first drops of rain began to fall and Jude ran back into the house to get her waterproof trousers, coat and boots. Noah was spending the day over at Frank’s and Jude had a lot to get done on Malvern Farm which couldn’t wait until the rain passed. When the coat and boots went on, the dogs knew there was a chance they’d be needed so they were waiting expectantly by Jude’s side as she kitted up.

‘Come on then. You can do the field rounds with me.’

She went to the shed to get the quad bike and called for the dogs who jumped into the dog box on the back. The grass was in a less-than-ideal state after the hot summer, and the pregnant ewes would need a bit of extra sustenance to get them through to the lambing season so she attached the trailer ready to load with hay bales. The hay harvest had been bumper, thank goodness, so they should get away with not having to buy any in that winter.

By the time she drove out of the yard, the rain was falling hard and fast and it stung as it hit Jude’s face. Up in the first field, Jude steered the quad over to the hayracks and used the dogs to keep the sheep away whilst she dealt with the feed.

As the ewes came to eat, she cast her eye over them to check for any issues and, happy that everyone was fit and well, she drove up through the gate to the top field. Alfie and Pip ran alongside the quad, neither dog caring a jot that their coats were as wet as if they’d fallen in the River Wye. Jude squinted to keep the rain from her eyes as her watchful gaze flicked from sheep to sheep, checking to see how many of the ewes now sported bright marks on their backs to show the tups had been busy.

One ewe was up at the top of the field on her own, struggling against the thick boundary hedge so, as soon as she’d filled the hay racks, Jude jumped back on the quad and called the dogs into the box so they wouldn’t frighten the stuck ewe. She parked up a little way off and commanded the dogs to stay put so she could see what the problem was, correctly guessing that the sheep had got her fleece caught in the undergrowth.

‘Hey there, lady, what have you been doing to yourself?’ Jude took out her trusty penknife and flicked the razor-sharp blade open. She put her weight against the sheep to stop her wriggling and started to chop away at the wool that had become completely tangled.

With the hood of her jacket pulled up and the sound of the pounding rain filling her ears, Jude was unaware of everything else around her other than the job at hand.

It took a little while to carefully cut the ewe free and, when the last tangle had been dealt with, she stood back and let the animal run off to see if there was any hay left for her.

‘Nice one, Jude.’ A voice behind her made her jump and she turned to see Marco Ricci, clad in a long waterproof coat, standing next to the quad, one hand on the head of each dog, giving them much appreciated tickles despite the wetness of their fur.

‘Marco!’ Jude had been delighted when her friend and almost flame had moved into the village a couple of months earlier and was always pleased to see him. ‘What brings you here on a morning like this?’

‘You.’ Marco had a way of making Jude feel as though she was the most important person in the world, even though they’d decided that romance was not going to be on the cards and friendship was now the name of the game. ‘Well, you and the lighting.’

‘The lighting?’ Jude looked at the sky where there was a distinct lack of sun behind the yellow storm clouds.

‘It’s the weather I’ve been waiting for.’ Marco pulled out a camera from inside his coat. It was a bulky thing with a large lens and he had it around his neck on a thick strap. ‘I need to capture the hills and farm in all their glory, throughout the year and in all the weathers. Those clouds are so full of energy and tempest: perfect for the series.’

He pointed the camera at Jude and snapped a couple of shots before turning the lens down the field and focusing on the soggy sheep enjoying their breakfast.

Jude had first met Marco when he’d visited the farm the previous year to paint a collection for an exhibition he was putting on down in Cornwall. He’d stayed in one of the shepherd’s huts on the farm’s campsite and had helped her renovate them in return for somewhere to sleep. He’d made it very clear that he wanted more than friendship and for a short time, she wondered what that might be like. But things had been complicated and she had turned him down, a decision she’d contemplated the wiseness of many times since.

‘It’s a shame you weren’t up here earlier, before the rain,’ said Jude. ‘It was eerily beautiful.’

Marco zipped his camera back inside his jacket and gave the bulge a tap. ‘You’re not the only early riser, Jude. I’ve been out for a while catching the changing light and you’re right, it was beautiful. It’ll be even better if the thunder they forecasted arrives.’

‘You’re on your own wishing for that.’ Jude shook her head ferociously so that the water flew off her hood and stopped dripping down her face for a minute. ‘I would like the rain to bugger off until I’m done for the day.’

‘Have you got a busy one?’

‘There’s no Noah today so it’s just me with plenty of stuff I need to be doing that’s not ideal in the rain, definitely not if the lightning does come. I think once I’ve checked all the animals, I might head back in for a coffee and sit the storm out. You’re welcome to come in and dry off yourself – once you’ve finished rain worshipping, that is.’

‘I think I’ll take you up on that, thanks.’

‘Great. I’ll see you in a little while then. Key’s in the hole in the middle of the cider press wheel. If I’m not back when you get there just let yourself in and put the kettle on, you know where everything is.’

Marco pushed his soggy fringe away from his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘Have fun.’

Jude raised her eyebrows and then got back on the quad to finish checking her flock that was spread over six fields. Once satisfied that they were all okay and having made sure there was fresh hay for everyone, she turned her attention to the paddock where she’d begun setting up a petting area as an extra draw for visitors.

The farm’s original pets, Pancake the sheep and Gertie the goat, were usually the first to come and greet Jude when she let herself through the top gate into the paddock. There was no sign of fleece or fur though and she guessed, correctly, that they’d be sheltering in the old stable block.

‘Good morning, troops,’ she called as she got close. Two faces peeked around the side of the stable, one white and cheeky, the other a golden brown and inquisitive, but neither animal ventured out to say hello.

Maud and Marlie, the curly-fleeced Valais sisters with velvety black noses and magnificent spiralled horns, weren’t so precious about the rain though and came trotting out of the stable. As sheep went, their behaviour was almost doglike as they pushed their heads into Jude’s hands, demanding to be scratched and petted.

Jude opened the old tack room next to the stables and scooped some sheep nuts into a bucket to feed Maud, Marlie, Pancake, Gertie and the four black and white, panda-faced Kerry Hill ewes, who were all now hopefully in lamb. Whilst they were busy with their breakfast, Jude opened the door of the second stable to set the Runner ducks free. They rushed out in a pack, necks stretched up and legs paddling the ground as they quacked and chattered their way into the open. Some went straight for the grass to see if the rain had encouraged any tasty slugs out whilst a couple decided to head for the old open canoe that had been repurposed as a duck dip. The rain pelted the surface of the water, turning it into a churning pot, but the ducks didn’t worry as they waddled up the plank and plopped in.

As Jude turned to go, she noticed a figure kitted out from head to toe in bright yellow waterproofs walking through the newly built gate at the bottom of the paddock. It was Mike Trout, a retired headteacher who lived with his wife, Val, in the house at the end of Malvern Farm’s drive, making them Jude’s closest neighbours. Mike and Jude had had a rocky relationship to say the least to begin with but more recently Jude had discovered his love of animals and Val had discovered her need for space. Retirement, it seemed, did not suit Mike, who had become grumpy and bored. Jude had given him carte blanche to visit the petting animals as often as he liked and, with her permission, Mike had added a gate that led straight from his garden so he could come and go as he pleased.

He found comfort and solace spending time with the animals and often helped out when it came to mucking out the stables or filling the water troughs and duck canoe. Over the summer, he’d even taken it upon himself to whitewash the entire stable block and he had started work on a fantastic extension to give the animals more shelter from the sun and rain. It wasn’t really necessary but he was so content pottering that both Jude and Val were happy to let him.

‘Perfect day for them.’ Mike pointed to the ducks splashing happily in the canoe.

‘Morning, Mike,’ Jude greeted him. ‘Not too wet for you?’

‘No such thing as too wet if you’ve got the correct clothing.’ He held his arms out to show off what Jude now realised were heavy-duty oilskins of the type fishermen wore. He even had a sou’wester and the entire outfit looked brand new.

‘Very nice,’ Jude said, thinking that he would stay a lot drier than she was. Despite her faithful waxed coat, she was beginning to feel as though her very core was damp and was keen to get her jobs finished for the morning so she could go inside and warm up with a cup of coffee.

Mike shrugged a backpack off and opened it, taking a square Tupperware container out and passing it to Jude.

‘Val made some Scotch eggs for you. She thought they might be good for Sebbie’s lunch box too. She used your bantam eggs so they’re quite small.’

‘Thanks, that’s really kind of her. I’ll have one with my lunch but I’ll make sure I save some for Sebbie too.’ Jude took the box. ‘You’re not planning on working on the new shed in this weather, are you?’

‘I’ve told Val I am.’ Mike gave a conspiratorial grin and opened up his backpack to show Jude the flask and newspaper that were inside. ‘We’ve got her sister and brother-in-law staying at the moment and he’s such an intolerable bore I thought I’d sit in the stable and keep the animals company whilst I catch up on the news instead.’

Mike put his finger to his lips to ask for Jude’s compliance in his secret, and Jude mimicked the gesture to assure him she wouldn’t rat him out.

‘Enjoy your morning,’ she said. ‘And thanks again for the Scotch eggs.’

The rain showed absolutely no sign of abating as Jude left Mike to his flask of tea and broadsheets. Somehow the water had found a route into one of her wellies so her foot was cold and miserable in its wet sock. She paid the hens in the orchard only a quick visit to let them out of the hen houses but decided to save the egg collecting for later and head back inside for a break.

Marco was already in the kitchen when Jude got there, and there was a welcome pot of coffee waiting. The dogs shook themselves dry in the porch and then Pip went straight for her cosy bed near the Aga whilst Alfie went to give Marco an enthusiastic greeting.

‘Just what I need.’ Jude took her coat off and hung it on the corner of the utility room door, letting it drip onto the flagstones below. Then she poured herself a large mug of coffee, added a generous slug of milk and joined Marco at the table. ‘Leave the poor man alone.’ Jude pushed Alfie towards his bed. ‘You’re all wet and smelly.’

‘So am I, so I’d say it’s fair game.’ Marco smiled and Jude pushed away the little flicker of something she’d been trying to ignore every time she was at the receiving end of that smile.

She reached across the table to where a tin of shortbread sat, the tape seal still joining the lid to the base. Her fingernails were always kept short but there was still enough to slide into the tape and slice it all the way around so that she could free the biscuits.

‘These look fancy.’ Marco took one and bit into it appreciatively.

‘Aren’t they? They were a gift from a lovely couple who stayed in one of the huts last week. They came a few months back for a wedding and loved it so much they booked a longer stay this time so that they could see the place properly and go for some decent walks.’

Marco sipped at his coffee and smiled broadly. ‘It’s great to see the campsite doing so well after all your hard work getting it up and running.’

Jude raised her mug and clinked it against the side of Marco’s. ‘Team effort,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’

‘You can pay me back and come and wield a paintbrush down at the cottage if you like.’

Marco had bought the cottage down in the village for a snip due to the poor state it was in. Structurally sound, the entire interior was worn and outdated, having been lived in by the same old lady for over sixty years. Enid Hamilton hadn’t had any family and had left everything she owned to a local dog re-homing centre who had wanted a quick sale. Marco had taken it all – lock, stock and woodworm-ridden furniture – and had been working hard to clear it out and spruce it up since he’d moved in.

‘I can do that,’ said Jude. ‘It’s only fair after all the work you put in at the campsite.’

The kitchen was warm and the coffee hit just the right spot. Jude stretched out her legs and enjoyed the moment of respite.

And then the thunder started. The first loud crash took Jude by surprise and had both dogs up and out of their beds in an instant. The second, just moments later, was a deeper roll that echoed around the countryside. This was followed by hail landing on the roof of the porch, making it sound as though they were under attack. Marco stood up and rushed over to the window.

‘My poor animals.’ Jude thought of the sheep out in the fields. Those who could would find shelter under the trees, which she fervently hoped would be left untouched by the lightning, but plenty would be out in the open. She knew that they were used to being left to the elements and were built to withstand the weather, but storms still made her antsy, especially when accompanied by hailstones.

‘It’s certainly tempestuous out there,’ Marco said as he put his long coat back on and fastened it over his camera. ‘I’m going to go and see if I can get some good shots up towards the house from the drive and over the fields too. Are you coming?’

‘I think I’ll stay here and sit it out.’ Jude topped up her coffee mug and pulled the latest copy of the Farmers Weekly towards her. ‘Have fun though.’

The next day, the thunder had rolled away and the hail and rain had been replaced by blue sky, although the storm had taken the last of the year’s warmth with it and the air outside was bitter and smelt of autumn.

She was in with the bantams, gathering up their small but perfect eggs, when her phone rang and she saw that it was a call from Binnie.

‘Hey,’ Jude greeted her friend. ‘How are you after Sunday? I tried calling yesterday but I couldn’t get through.’

‘No, I was caught up at work all day,’ Binnie said. ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Becka. She was a force of nature in so many ways, always so bubbly and on the side of the underdog and now…’

‘Have you spoken to any of the others?’ Jude imagined the group of walkers she’d met. All of them had seemed like such good friends and she imagined the loss of one of the gang would be felt keenly. She’d had the real sense that most of them were lonely and the group meant so much more to them than just a good way of seeing the hills and keeping fit.

‘I sent them all an email explaining what had happened,’ said Binnie. ‘Clara phoned me as soon as she’d read it on Sunday night. She was beside herself. I don’t think she’s made many friends since moving to Malvern and she and Becka often met up outside of the walking group for a drink after work or whatever.’

Jude knew what it was like to lose a friend in horrific circumstances and had a huge amount of empathy for Clara, for all of them.

‘Clara drove along Jubilee Drive around ten minutes before us, didn’t she?’ Jude asked.

‘She did, which actually gives us a very accurate time for the crash as she didn’t see any sign of it.’

Jude absentmindedly picked at some feathers that were stuck to the side of the chicken coop. ‘Which means we have to find out where Becka was during the lost half hour or so since she left the car park. It seems suspicious, doesn’t it?’

‘It is certainly interesting,’ said Binnie. ‘But suspicious? That would insinuate that you think whatever she was doing during that time might have had a direct link to the crash.’

Jude wasn’t sure exactly what she thought, but she did know that people didn’t just drive off the edge of roads without something causing them to lose control.

‘Do you think it’s possible?’

‘At the moment it doesn’t look as though there was a second car involved in the crash and preliminary tests have shown nothing mechanically wrong with her car. The working theories are that she was either going too fast and misjudged the corner—’

‘Which seems ridiculous,’ Jude interjected. ‘She grew up around here and would have driven along Jubilee Drive hundreds of times.’

‘In which case the most likely reasons would either be that she had some sort of medical episode that hasn’t yet been picked up by pathology, or that she was somehow distracted. Perhaps something happened on the road or the path along the hills that took her attention away from the road. Maybe she was doing something daft like trying to open her water bottle or change the music.’

Jude thought about the woman she’d met, capable, sensible and not the sort she would expect to try and multi-task when driving around a narrow road with tight bends and a sharp drop down the side of a hill.

‘What are the chances there was a medical reason?’

‘We’re still waiting for the results, although her doctor’s records show no previous history of anything like that. We’re checking phone records as well, just in case she was using her mobile when she was driving.’

‘I don’t see it.’ Jude moved the phone to her other ear so she could use her right hand to carry on packing the eggs into the last of the boxes. ‘Even if she was the sort to take her eyes off the road for some reason, she didn’t come across as stupid enough to choose to do it on Jubilee Drive.’

‘I have to agree with you,’ said Binnie. ‘But something made her go off the edge and if it’s not mechanical or medical then we are left with human error.’

‘Or human intervention,’ Jude said.

‘Don’t start getting ahead of yourself, Jude,’ Binnie warned. ‘I know what you’re like.’

‘But you have to admit that it’s a possibility. And there were at least two people angry with her that day. You heard Damien and Joyce both argue with her.’

‘Arguing is one thing,’ said Binnie, ‘but murder is something else altogether. Let’s wait until we have a clearer picture of what happened before we go around suspecting people of such awful things.’

Jude sighed. Maybe Binnie was right. It was most likely to be a tragic yet innocent accident. Most likely perhaps, but not the only explanation, not by a long way.

Binnie had to get back to work then so ended the call, leaving Jude to mull the final thought over. Perhaps she had become too cynical or suspicious over the past couple of years but to her, Becka’s crash seemed to be layered in complexity and doubt. Because, as Binnie had said, something had made Becka’s car go off the edge of the road and what if that something had been orchestrated by someone else? Jude knew that her imagination was in danger of running away with her, but she also knew she couldn’t dismiss this option altogether, especially as Becka’s whereabouts in the half an hour leading up to the crash couldn’t be accounted for.

And if she was going to entertain the idea of someone causing the crash, she would have to ask the question: Who would have the motive to do such a thing? If it was deliberate then the most obvious suspect would be Damien after the explosive anger they’d all witnessed down on Frank’s farm. Becka and he had a shared past that had left a bitter taste in Damien’s mouth for certain. But then Joyce had also argued with Becka that day, worried she was trying to take over the rambling group. Both Jude and Binnie had picked up on an undercurrent of something bigger though. Big enough to kill?

Jude’s mind started to rake through the other members of the walking group, trying to assign motives to them. Binnie had told her not to get ahead of herself and Jude knew that she was in danger of doing just that.

But her warning senses were tingling and the only way she was going to be satisfied that foul play hadn’t had a hand in the crash was to find out for herself exactly what had happened.

6

Jude was in the kitchen on Wednesday morning in her work clothes having already been out to tend to the animals.

‘It’s nice out,’ she said when Lucy came to join her for a cup of tea.

‘Thank goodness.’ Lucy cut two thick slices of bread and put them between the wire racks of the toasting grill.

Jude lifted the lid of the Aga so Lucy could put the rack on the hot plate. ‘What are you up to today?’ She put the lid down on top of the bread and picked up her mug of tea.

‘Oh, Jude, no. You can’t have forgotten.’

Jude paused with the lip of the mug resting against her mouth as she desperately tried to remember what Lucy could be talking about.

‘You promised you’d come with us on the Perrins House trip to Hampton Court. We’re relying on you.’

‘No, of course I didn’t forget.’ Jude looked away to collect the butter dish in order to hide her fib.

‘Were you planning on coming like that then?’

Jude glanced down at her waterproof trousers and ancient fleece, both stained with animal muck and general farm gubbins. ‘Don’t be daft. I had jobs to do but now they’re done I can have a shower and get changed.’

Lucy turned the toast to cook the other side. ‘You’re even worse than Sebbie when it comes to lying, Judy. I can see right through you.’

Jude raised her hands in submission. ‘Okay, okay. I totally forgot but I still have plenty of time, don’t I? I can’t imagine an entire care home full of elderly residents will be up with the larks and champing at the bit to get going.’

‘So long as you’re there before ten because that’s when the minibuses are due to leave and you need to be on one of them.’ Lucy tipped the toast into a basket and carried it to the table. ‘But the earlier the better as there’s going to be plenty to do to get everyone ready and loaded on.’

Jude quickly ran through the list of things she’d been planning to do that day. ‘I’d better go and tell Noah that I won’t be here today.’

‘Already done. I had a hunch you might forget.’

‘Then I suppose I’ll be ready to roll after a quick shower.’

‘Great, you can come in with me. We’ll leave at seven thirty and drop Sebbie off at breakfast club on the way.’

Lucy smiled at Jude before taking a big bite of her hot buttered toast.

Jude quite enjoyed helping out at Perrins House. Some were already in the dining room by the time she and Lucy arrived so Jude helped fuel them with tea and fruit juice whilst Lucy went to get the others up, washed and dressed.

Soon, there was a bustle of people chattering to their friends around tables with little bud vases containing what looked like fresh picks from the well-stocked flower garden.

‘Morning, Jude,’ said Gerwain, the newly appointed manager, as he helped a man using a walking frame into his seat. ‘I hear Lucy roped you in for the big trip out today.’

Jude liked Gerwain immensely. He’d been working as a junior carer when Granny Margot had first moved into Perrins House and had always been her favourite. It wasn’t possible to find someone more caring or dedicated and everyone who knew him had been delighted with his latest promotion.

‘You know how persuasive she can be.’ Jude came over to the table with a fresh cup and saucer for the man who’d just sat down. ‘Good morning, Hector. Would you like a tea or coffee?’

‘Thank you, Jude. I’d rather have some juice if there is any.’

Jude barely had a moment to talk to Granny Margot as she went from table to table, topping up drinks, fetching toast and cracking the tops off soft-boiled eggs. The morning flew past and before she knew it, the minibuses had arrived and the residents were being loaded on.

As though she were a teenager on the school bus, waiting for her best friend to join her, Granny Margot put her bulky handbag and bottle-green beret on the seat next to her and politely told anyone who asked her to move them that she had saved the seat for Jude. There was only one small mishap when Rani – a nonagenarian with a very sweet tooth – dropped her bag and a tsunami of Maltesers rolled out and covered the floor of the bus. Gerwain ran inside to grab a dustpan and brush whilst Lucy pointed out the signs taped to the back of the driver’s chair.

‘No food or drink, bus rules,’ she said. ‘So if anyone else has got sweets in their bags then please make sure they stay there.’

Everything back on track, the two minibuses set off in convoy.

‘How exciting,’ said Granny Margot. ‘I haven’t been to Hampton Court in years. I hear the new cafe is really good, especially the cake.’

She reached into her bag and rustled around for a bit before sliding something out. Looking nonchalantly out of the window to take suspicion away, she moved her fist across her lap to Jude who automatically held her palm open and felt something drop into it. Glancing down, she saw a green fruit pastille which she popped into her mouth.

Granny Margot’s hand went to her nose to give it a little itch and Jude saw the slightest hinge of her jaw to show that a second pastille had been safely deposited.

‘You are a mistress of deception and subterfuge,’ Jude said.

‘I always have been.’ Granny Margot’s eyes twinkled as she sucked her forbidden sweet. ‘At least we get a chance to talk. Tell me all about how things are on the farm, Jude. You said you were going to put the tups in a little later this year.’

‘After the filthy springs we’ve had the past few years, we’re going for a mid-March start for lambing this time, so we put the tups in just last week. Judging by the raddle marks, there are plenty of pregnant ladies already.’

‘Good, good.’ Granny Margot had spent most of her life living in Malvern End and working on the farm. It was in her bones and she still kept a healthy eye on things even from afar. ‘And you’ll have plenty of hay to get them through the winter after the bumper harvest.’

‘Couldn’t be more different to last year’s pitiful efforts.’ Jude remembered how the summer rain had made it the same for everyone back then. She’d had to beg and barter just to find enough hay forage and straw bedding to get through the lambing season.

‘And that lovely chap of yours – have you two started courting properly yet?’

At the mention of Marco, Jude felt herself blush. Why was it that she could still be reduced to a teenaged fool when anyone suggested there should be more than friendship between them?

‘We both decided that a relationship would be too complicated at the moment. It would get in the way. As you well know.’

‘Tsshh.’ Granny Margot blew out through her teeth. ‘Don’t waste a chance of happiness there, Jude. It may not be around for ever.’

Jude looked through the window of the minibus and saw that they had left the edges of the town behind and were heading through the fields down the main road towards Hereford. Was Marco really her chance of happiness? She was happy enough as she was, wasn’t she? She thought about the farm and the people who filled her life. Lucy, Sebbie, Noah: her little family and the centre of her world. But she knew her current set-up wouldn’t last forever. At some point, they would want to peel off and form a unit of their own and then she would be by herself again. But that wasn’t a good enough reason to jump into a relationship with Marco. It was complicated and something she would put off thinking about for another day – as she always did.

‘Now, tell me all about this poor woman who went off the edge of Jubilee Drive.’

Jude was well used to Granny Margot’s blunt change of conversational direction, claiming that there was little enough time to say all the important things without wasting sentences on the mundane, and Jude loved her all the more for it.

‘Lucy told you about that?’ she asked.

‘No, Joyce Mason. Or at least her mother, Phylis, did. She’s the oldest resident at Perrins House but sharper than a lot of the others, I can tell you. Joyce comes in quite a bit to see her and Phylis does love to pass on any gossip. She said that Joyce has been terribly shaken by the whole thing.’

‘I’m not surprised. It was awful.’ Jude told Granny Margot about the horrors of that afternoon. ‘Such a frightening way to die. I just hope that she was unconscious and couldn’t feel any pain.’

‘Do they think she might have had some sort of epileptic fit or something?’

Jude sighed deeply. ‘It doesn’t seem so but seizures can be difficult to detect posthumously so it’s impossible to say for certain.’

Granny Margot hung her head. ‘Phylis said she was a lovely girl.’

‘I thought so,’ Jude agreed. ‘She was feisty though and it definitely seemed like she clashed terribly with Joyce.’

The minibus turned a sharp left and Granny Margot put her hand out to stop herself from tipping too far to the right. ‘I think that only started when Joyce’s nephew moved in with her,’ she said.

‘Phil, yes, I met him on the walk but he seemed nice enough.’

‘He was named after his grandmother and Phylis is very proud of him,’ said Granny Margot. ‘It was the talk of the day room when he got divorced and his business went under within such a short time of each other. He’s been in to see Phylis several times and always seems pleasant.’ Granny Margot leant in and lowered her voice. ‘And he must be a bit of a saint to put up with Joyce.’

‘Why do you think he’s the reason Joyce and Becka stopped seeing eye to eye?’

‘Because Becka used to be Joyce’s financial adviser down at Bryson and Bull’s until Phil came along. It was the sort of thing he used to do in the city until his business partner started to fiddle the books and take money from his clients. Well, Phil took a look at Joyce’s financial affairs and suggested that she entrust him with her savings and investments instead of Becka.’

‘Does that sound a bit dodgy to you?’ Jude asked.

Granny Margot pursed her lips. ‘It could be, but then we can all be very quick to judge when it comes to matters of the heart or purse. There is a much greater chance that he honestly wanted to help his aunt out and save her some money rather than that he saw an opportunity to diddle her.’

Jude thought about this. It was the sad way of the world that mistrust and suspicion played such a big role in the way humans perceived each other. Granny Margot was right, it made sense for a man to want to help out the aunt who had taken him in when he was at his lowest. ‘I still don’t understand where the friction came from, it seems a bit much for Becka to have been annoyed that Joyce decided to use her nephew when it came to financial advice.’

The minibus had now reached the hop yards and fruit trees of the farms in this area and Jude admired a pretty pair of oast houses as they drove past.

‘From what I gather there was some question about Becka’s professionalism in the advice she gave Joyce. Not that there was anything underhand going on, just that Phil had seen errors that shouldn’t have been made and Joyce was not backward in letting Becka know about them.’

‘Ah,’ said Jude. ‘That would definitely put a spanner in the works as far as keeping a friendly relationship going. I’m surprised that Becka still wanted to join in the walks after that.’

‘Are you?’ Granny Margot asked. ‘From the way you and Phylis speak about her it doesn’t sound as though she was the sort of woman to let grievances get in the way of life.’

Jude thought about the bluntness of the woman she’d met on the walk. Becka had taken on Damien when he’d confronted her down on Frank’s farm and had stood up to him without really batting an eyelid. She’d only been in that position because she had been an advocate for her friend and persuaded her to leave someone she could see was no good for her.

‘You’re absolutely right,’ she said.

Jude thought about Damien’s threat, promising her that he wouldn’t forget what Becka had done and that she should watch her back. The fact that she was now lying in a mortuary after being potentially run off the side of the hills that same afternoon made the threat seem an even darker one. But at the time, Becka had fobbed it off as the nonsense of a bully. She had certainly been a strong character: the sort to call a spade a spade and if she had been accused of anything then she would have stood her ground until she had proven her innocence. Jude imagined that it would have taken more than a bit of friction between her and Joyce to give up the walking group and the friends she’d made there.

A buzz from her bag told Jude that a text message had just arrived.

‘It’s from Binnie,’ she said as she swiped to open the message.

Hey. We’ve had word from someone who thinks she saw Becka just before the crash. Possibly another car involved. Witness said she thought they were racing each other but I think not. No clear details of second car. Talk later. B xx

Jude turned the phone for her travelling companion to see.

‘Good heavens,’ said Granny Margot.

‘My thoughts exactly,’ said Jude.

7

‘Here we are,’ called the bus driver as he turned into the grounds of the castle one hundred years older than its more famous namesake.

Once the minibus had pulled up next to the other from Perrins House, Jude unclipped her seatbelt and stood up.

‘What can I do?’ she asked Gerwain.

‘These four ladies are able to walk so if you could help them off first, I’ll sort out the chairs for Margot and Ralph and then we’ll wheel Theo and Janice off last through the back door.’

It was a seamless operation. Once the first four were off and heading to the loo block, Gerwain unfolded two wheelchairs and Jude helped guide Granny Margot down the steps to her chariot. Gerwain saw to the rest of the passengers whilst Jude pushed Granny Margot over to the other bus where Lucy was pulling a cantankerous woman in her wheelchair down the ramp from the back door.

‘Don’t bash me into the side, you stupid girl. Last time you were driving this thing, I ended up taking all the skin off my elbow.’ The woman was trying to crane her neck around so she could curse directly into Lucy’s face and was annoyed that she couldn’t find the angle.

‘I’m sorry if I did that, Patsy,’ said Lucy. ‘Hopefully I’ll give you a smoother ride this time. You can tell me at the end if you think I can get rid of the L plates.’

‘The what plates?’ Patsy said with disdain.

‘It’s what you put on a car when you’re learning to drive.’ Lucy looked over at Jude and pulled a face.

‘What on earth are you talking about, you stupid girl? It’s all nonsense.’

‘That’s enough, you grumpy old so and so,’ said Granny Margot. ‘Lucy is an angel and she puts up with too much from you. Now try and enjoy yourself today but if you’re too much of a grouch to be able to do that then kindly keep it to yourself so the rest of us can.’

Patsy muttered something under her breath, but she did at least leave Lucy alone.

The tickets for Hampton Court gardens had already been bought and the trip fully organised by Gerwain. It was the last week they were going to be open before everything was put into hibernation for the winter but there was still plenty to see.

‘We don’t all need to stick together so please do feel free to explore the beautiful gardens.’ Gerwain passed out paper maps of the grounds. ‘We will be meeting up for lunch at one o’clock in the orangery which can be accessed via the south lawns as you can see here on your maps. Those of you wanting to make your own way around, please take one of the lanyards to wear so people know you’re in our party. If you need anything, my phone number is printed on the back.’

A few of the more able pensioners took lanyards to hang around their necks, and then they were off to enjoy their freedom. Jude pushed Granny Margot around the kitchen gardens with espalier apple and pear trees, various types of squashes and rows of leafy greens.

‘Let’s get on and find a quiet place to continue our chat,’ said Granny Margot, pointing down a path towards a break in the wall. Jude had never been to Hampton Court before and, as she pushed the wheelchair over the bumps and through the arch, she was surprised and delighted to see how unusual and striking the water gardens on the other side were.

‘Let’s go and sit in there.’ Granny Margot indicated one of two multi-gabled wooden shelters that sat on top of brick bases in the middle of the pond. ‘There’s only one way in so we can see if we’re about to be disturbed and there’s no room for eavesdroppers.’

Jude pushed the chair up to the little bridge that led across to the shelter.

‘I can walk from here if I can borrow your arm,’ Granny Margot said.

Once Granny Margot had stood up, Jude pushed the chair out of the way and then they both made their way over the wooden bridge and settled down on one of the benches that had been built into the shelter. From there they had spectacular and varied views from all eight sides of the octangular structure across neatly clipped bushes, water steps and hidden sculptures.

‘I have to ask, although I have a feeling I may already know your answer, but do you think there is a fairly decent chance that Becka’s accident wasn’t as accidental as it may have originally appeared?’ Granny Margot asked as soon as they were sitting down.

‘Honestly, I had already wondered about this before I got Binnie’s message.’ Jude expanded on her observations around the timings that just didn’t add up and the fact that something must have caused Becka to drive through the barrier. ‘I’m not necessarily saying that the driver of the other car pushed her off the road deliberately, but I do wonder if it was someone she knew. Someone who was angry and wanted to teach her a lesson, even if they didn’t mean for it to end in her death.’

‘And if it was deliberate then we must ask who would do such a thing and for what reason.’ Granny Margot pulled the packet of fruit pastilles out of her bag and took one herself before handing them to Jude. ‘Tell me, who else was on the walk that day with you?’

‘Joyce, of course, and her nephew Phil. Binnie and me, then there were four others. A retired couple called Flo and Brian who were just delightful, a crime writer called Andy and a scientist from QinetiQ called Clara. She’s the one interested in renting the cottage from you.’

‘Ah, yes. Lucy told me you’d found someone. I believe she went to have a look around yesterday. So that’s six people who were there with their cars at around the time Becka ran off the road.’

‘There’s someone else I think we need to consider too. Did you ever come across a man named Damien Hawker?’

Granny Margot’s brow wrinkled in thought. ‘I don’t think I did.’

‘He’s a really nasty sort. Lazy, mean and always coiled for a fight.’

‘I might not know this particular chap, but I have certainly met my share of similar sorts. Tell me what he has to do with Becka.’

Jude outlined what had happened when Damien had seen Becka on the farm and Granny Margot nodded so enthusiastically that Jude wondered how her beret stayed put.

‘He certainly sounds like he belongs at the top of our suspect list,’ she said.

‘It’s a messy way of killing someone though,’ Jude pointed out. ‘Risky, too. I mean, the chances of being caught must be high with all the people who drive along that stretch of road, and so many of them with dashcams these days.’

‘Dashcams being those little cameras people stick in their windscreens?’ Granny Margot asked. ‘I was reading about them in the paper the other day. Cyclists have them on their helmets too, I gather.’

Jude nodded. ‘They do, and there are always plenty of cyclists about on the hills when the sun is shining at the weekend. If any of them caught the crash on camera then it would be game over for the driver of the other car.’

Granny Margot smoothed out the stripes of her rust-coloured corduroy trousers, humped comfortably over the healthy mound of her stomach. ‘You’re right, it was very risky. If the intention was to kill Becka, there was no guarantee it would have been successful. There aren’t many places on Jubilee Drive where the trees don’t come all the way up to meet the road which would have stopped her from rolling down the hill.’

Jude thought back to the scene of the crash. It had happened at one of the few gaps without a thick tree cover which would have taken some skill and plenty of luck if it had been intentional.

‘If Becka had survived then she would have given her account of what had happened and told the police exactly who it was who’d run her off the road.’

‘And of course she might have had one of those dashcams herself.’ Granny Margot looked at Jude. ‘I don’t suppose we’re that lucky, are we?’

Jude shook her head. ‘Sadly not.’

Granny Margot thumped her hands down on the wooden bench either side of her. ‘It can’t have been a premeditated act,’ she said, ‘but rather a desperate and ill-thought-out one. Someone perhaps who, as you mentioned before, was mad with rage for whatever reason and acted without any consideration for the consequences.’

They had to break their train of thought for a short while when Rani and Fizz, two women from Perrins House, approached the bridge pushing tri-wheeled walking aids.

‘This is glorious, isn’t it,’ said Rani.

‘It certainly is,’ said Jude.

‘Do you mind a little company?’ Fizz asked, although both women were already halfway across the bridge so the question seemed pointless.

‘As long as you don’t stay too long,’ said Granny Margot. ‘Jude and I were enjoying the vista and the chance for a chat.’

Jude was surprised at the bluntness, even for Granny Margot, but the other women didn’t seem to be at all perturbed and sat down anyway. For ten minutes or so they conversed with each other about the various plants they’d seen before they felt ready to move on.

‘Don’t miss the Dutch garden and its beautiful pond,’ said Fizz as she levered herself off the bench by gripping the handles of her walking aid. ‘You’ll need to pop out at the back of the gardens and walk around to the other path with a wheelchair to avoid the steps, but it is definitely worth it.’

‘Thank you for the tip.’ Granny Margot waved as the women retreated back across the bridge.

‘I thought they’d never leave.’ Granny Margot heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘Now then, we were talking about the other walkers in your group. Would they all have gone down Jubilee Drive after leaving British Camp?’

‘That’s something I’ve been trying to straighten out in my mind,’ said Jude. ‘I need to check with Binnie but I’m sure they all went that way. It would have been the obvious route for Brian and Flo who live in Colwall, Clara had to get back to Malvern Link so she could have gone that way too and I think Andy said he has a house somewhere near Cowleigh Bank.’

‘In which case it would have made sense for them all to use Jubilee Drive to avoid the town.’ Granny Margot tapped her index finger against her mouth. ‘What about Joyce? Do you know where she and Phil live?’

Jude shook her head. ‘No, but I’m certain they both went down Jubilee Drive too. Joyce was the first to leave but Phil went after Becka. He’d brought his own car because he said he had jobs to do in town, which is strange because surely if he was heading straight into town, he’d have turned right out of the car park and gone through Malvern Wells.’

‘That’s the way I’d have gone.’ Granny Margot pulled her brightly patterned hand-crocheted shawl a little tighter around her shoulders.

‘Are you chilly?’ Jude asked.

‘Just a little. Perhaps we could move back out into the sun.’

Jude helped her friend off the bench and held her arm out for Granny Margot to take as they crossed the bridge back to the wheelchair. A quick glance at her watch told her they had time to investigate the sunken garden and waterfall before they headed over to the orangery for lunch.

The whole garden set-up at Hampton Court was interesting and unusual and made for a nice break away from the farm for Jude, all the sweeter for the time she was able to spend with Granny Margot.

Putting Becka’s crash to one side for a while, they explored the hidden pockets and secluded nooks until they felt it was about time they went to join the others for lunch.

The orangery was a huge conservatory on the riverside of the castle that had been designed as an addition to the older parts of the building by the same man responsible for Crystal Palace’s great glass structure. Jude and Granny Margot were amongst the first ones to get there and found it to be toasty and warm with lovely views out across the grass towards the river.

‘That’s Joyce’s mother, Phylis, sitting over there with Lucy, Jacinta and Patsy.’ Granny Margot pointed over to the far end of the orangery where several tables had been pushed together and space made for the entire party to sit down. Lucy caught sight of them and waved them over. Jacinta, the head chef at Perrins House, stood up and moved a chair out of the way so Jude could push Granny Margot straight up to the table next to Phylis.

‘Have you two had a good morning?’ Jacinta asked.

‘We’ve had a lovely time,’ Granny Margot replied. ‘How about you? Did you all get to see everything?’

‘She wouldn’t take me to see the waterfall.’ Patsy jabbed a thumb in Lucy’s direction.

‘We tried but we couldn’t get you down there in your chair.’

Jude thought she’d definitely thrown the six taking Granny Margot round instead of the cantankerous old misery-guts who was busy scooping all the froth off her coffee and wiping it on a thick paper napkin. ‘I didn’t order all of this nonsense,’ she was muttering. ‘I just wanted a plain cup of coffee.’

Granny Margot looked at her in disdain before turning her attention to the woman next to her. ‘Phylis, this is my friend Jude. She went for a walk with your Joyce on Sunday.’

Phylis stretched a papery hand out across Granny Margot so she could reach Jude on the other side. For someone so frail-looking, Phylis proved to have a vice-like grip and her skeletal fingers clung on to Jude’s hand as though it was providing the old lady with a lifeline.

‘Jude, yes.’ Her voice was crackly with a shake to it. ‘You were the one who found poor Becka’s car, weren’t you?’

Jude felt a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Phylis’s piercing eyes. ‘Um, yes. That’s right.’

Phylis began to bounce her hand so that Jude’s bobbed up and down on the table. ‘Poor, poor girl. Such a terrible thing to happen. My Joyce is so dreadfully upset about it all.’

‘I gather Becka used to do some work for Joyce.’ Jude’s arm was still stretched out across the table in front of Granny Margot with no sign of Phylis letting go of her hand, and it was starting to get very uncomfortable.

‘Oh, yes. Joyce and I have both always had our affairs dealt with by Bryson and Bull, we only stopped when Philip, my grandson, that is…’

‘I met him on the walk as well.’ Jude managed to wriggle her fingers free on the pretence of needing to pour herself and Granny Margot glasses of water.

‘Such a lovely boy.’ Phylis took in a deep breath which she puffed out loudly. ‘His mother, my own sweet girl Mary, died in childbirth and dear Joyce helped Philip’s father bring him up. Not that George was much use for anything after Mary died. He wasted the life God had gifted him by falling into drink, deeper and deeper until the day he died. He missed out on Philip’s childhood and never a bonnier child had there been either – such a good-natured boy he was.’

‘I’m so sorry to hear this.’ Jude could imagine the amiable Phil as a bonny child but hadn’t realised just how troubled his early life had been.

‘It was down to Joyce and me to keep an eye on him. Even though she had her hands full with her police job, she did so much for him. She can be a hard nut sometimes but she’s one of life’s good’uns.’

Jude wondered how much of this the other walkers in the group were aware of. Binnie had certainly not mentioned anything to her about Joyce and Phil’s backgrounds.

‘It must have been hard for all of you,’ Jude said.

‘We got on with it as families do. You were the same with your girls, weren’t you, Margot?’

Granny Margot picked up the glass of water that Jude had put in front of her. ‘I was. When the chips are down, you do what needs to be done.’

Jude squeezed Margot’s free hand as she was reminded that Margot had outlived both her own daughter and the granddaughter that she had brought up alone. ‘I miss my girls every day but I am also thankful every day that I had them in my life.’ Granny Margot’s mouth drew into a tight, straight line.

‘Phil is lucky to have you and Joyce too,’ said Jude. ‘I’m sure he was grateful to be able to move back in with her when things went wrong for him in London.’

‘Oh, you heard about that?’ Phylis gave Granny Margot a hard stare.

‘Not me.’ Granny Margot held her hands up.

‘He seems to be quite open with the walking group about the current state of things,’ said Jude quickly.

‘It’s been such a difficult time for Philip. But I think things will begin to look up for him soon. He’s started to take on a few private clients, mainly friends of ours who have heard about his excellent track record.’

Jude wondered how excellent that track record was if he hadn’t managed to spot such terrible fraudulent activity from his partner.

‘I’m hopeful he can build up a new business in Malvern. It won’t be on the scale of the corporate accounts he held before but there are a lot of people who could benefit from his experience and expertise.’ Phylis looked the epitome of a proud grandmother. ‘It won’t take long for him to put the whole sorry episode behind him. He tells me there’s a unit for rent very close to Joyce’s house in Hanley Swan which he’s going to apply for.’

‘It would be good to get his own premises for client meetings,’ Granny Margot agreed.

A waitress came over then carrying a stack of menus which she placed down on the tables.

‘Can I get any hot drinks for you whilst you’re waiting for the remainder of your party?’ She held a pencil against a little pad ready for the orders to come in.

Jude picked up a menu and glanced at it, but her focus was elsewhere. If Joyce lived in Hanley Swan then it would have been a real detour to drive back from British Camp via Jubilee Drive. So, if she hadn’t been going straight home as she’d said, where had she been going? Phil had also chosen an unusual route considering he’d been heading into town.

Had either of them got anything to do with the missing half hour that couldn’t be accounted for between Becka leaving the walking party and the terrible crash?

Perhaps there was more to this whole financial advice business than simply family loyalty. Maybe that was what Joyce and Becka had really been arguing about up on the hills. What had Joyce said? Something about Becka being a troublemaker and thinking carefully about the consequences of her actions. And Becka had talked about something being fundamentally wrong and damaging. They had set it up as an argument about leadership of the rambling group, but right from the start Jude had thought that had been a smokescreen for a deeper row.

Whatever had gone on between Joyce, Phil and Becka, Jude definitely wanted to know more.

8

Back at Perrins House, Jude helped unload the residents and settled everyone into the day room ready for cups of tea and Jacinta’s home-baked lemon and lavender shortbread.

‘Are we in time for Richard Osman’s House of Games?’ Rani asked the room.

‘It’s not even five o’clock,’ Hector called back to her. ‘He doesn’t start until six.’

‘It does feel much later,’ Granny Margot said as Jude settled her into a chair by the window. ‘None of us are used to packing quite so much excitement into one day. It’s rather taken it out of me and I don’t think I can keep my eyes open. Do you mind?’

‘Of course not,’ Jude said. ‘I’ll come and see you soon.’

Granny Margot patted Jude’s hand and rested her head against the back of the chair, her eyes closing and her features slumping in relaxation. In many ways she hadn’t changed at all since the days when Jude was fresh from university and new to Malvern End.

All these years later and Granny Margot hadn’t lost an ounce of her wit, wisdom or keen observation and yet as Jude looked at her drifting off to sleep she saw the signs the years had carved into her face and it made her feel both protective of the past and melancholic of the future. She bent to gently kiss her friend’s cheek and then crept away to let her rest.

Jude went over to Lucy who was kneeling down in front of Rani’s chair to help her out of her shoes and into a pair of sheepskin slippers.

‘How’s that?’ Lucy asked as she sat back on her heels. ‘No wrinkles in your socks?’

‘That’s much better, thank you.’ Rani stretched her feet out in front of her. ‘It was a beautiful trip but I’m not used to walking so much these days.’

Lucy stood up and pulled a little table closer to Rani so that it was easier for her to reach the tea Jacinta had brought her.

‘The evening shift are just having a handover in the staff room with Gerwain,’ Lucy said to Jude. ‘Once they’re out we can head home.’

Jude was used to busy days and was no stranger to hard work but she had to admit that a day out with the residents of Perrins House had been exhausting. She sat in the passenger seat as Lucy drove them through the town and onto Belle Vue Terrace and felt her eyes close.

‘Thanks for coming with us today,’ said Lucy. ‘It was great to have an extra pair of hands.’

‘I had a lovely day,’ said Jude. ‘I’m knackered now though. I don’t know how you do it.’

‘It’s not that full on when we’re just at the home, and I’m used to it. I love it, actually.’

‘Well, you’re brilliant at your job. I never knew you had that much patience.’

‘Patience is my middle name. I’m surprised it took you so long to work it out.’ Lucy grinned as she flicked the radio on. The DJ on BBC Hereford and Worcester was just finishing a chat with a caller about the growing issue of potholes across the two counties and then she played a-ha’s eighties classic ‘Take On Me’. Lucy cranked it up and the two sisters sang along as they drove upwards into the hills.

‘Did you reply to Binnie’s text?’ Lucy asked as they turned onto the steep road that led straight down the western side of the hills into the Herefordshire countryside where Malvern End was nestled.

‘What text?’ Jude took her phone from her bag and glanced at the screen. ‘Bugger, I must have knocked it onto silent by mistake.’

There was a message on the WhatsApp group that linked Binnie, Lucy and Jude suggesting that they all went out for a meal that evening with Clara. She’d decided to take Granny Margot’s cottage in the village and was going to be moving in the following week, so Binnie thought it would be nice for them to get together.

‘What do you think?’ Jude asked. ‘I feel we should but I have to say the thought of getting dressed up and going out for dinner doesn’t fill me with glee.’

‘I think Noah said he was going over to see his dad this evening so I can’t leave Sebbie anyway.’

Jude looked at the message again, thinking about how to word her reply. ‘How about they come over to the farm and we get a takeaway instead?’

‘Works for me,’ said Lucy. ‘I’m keen to meet the new inhabitant of Margot’s cottage and I don’t feel like cooking in the slightest.’

Jude fired off a text message to Binnie and then flicked her emails open. Amongst the junk mail from agro-reps trying to sell her products she didn’t need there was a message to the rambling group.

‘Ah, now this should be interesting. Joyce has suggested that the rambling group meet up on Sunday for an extra walk, a sort of memorial walk for Becka starting with a pub lunch down at The Lamb.’

‘She didn’t waste any time.’ Lucy glanced across at Jude.

‘I don’t think time-wasting is in Joyce’s DNA.’

‘Will you go?’

Jude thought about it. She had huge questions about Becka’s crash and who might have been behind the wheel of the car that had appeared to be racing her. Perhaps seeing the walkers again would throw up some clues as to what happened to Becka after she left British Camp.

‘I was talking to Margot today about the chances of the accident actually being an impulsive but deliberate act against Becka.’

‘Of course you were.’ Lucy turned the car off the lane into Malvern Farm’s drive. ‘Go on.’

‘It’s got me thinking about who might have been holding on to that much anger or resentment against Becka to run her off the road.’

‘There’s Damien of course,’ said Lucy. ‘From what you said about his reaction when he met her on the farm he is clearly still really angry about her breaking up his relationship.’

‘He is, and I’d say he’s definitely volatile enough to carry out such a dreadful act of aggression so I would put him at the top of the list of suspects. But there were a couple of things that happened on the walk that makes me wonder who else from the rambling group may have had an axe to grind with Becka.’

‘Like what?’

‘She had a fierce row with Joyce that seemed to be laced with hidden warnings on both sides and then something odd happened at lunch.’ Jude furrowed her brow to remember the words Becka had used. ‘She told us all that she had the power of an incredible memory. Specifically for people she’d met and how she knew them. And then she joked that we’d all been clocked.’

‘But you think she might have been telling someone there that she recognised them from the past?’

Jude pictured the way that Becka had looked from one person to the next after she’d said it. It had seemed theatrical at the time, a bit of a strange joke. But what if someone there had picked up on a different message, a more personal one about something they’d hoped to have kept buried?

‘I don’t know. But I think there is still plenty to uncover about the events that led up to Becka’s crash and I think perhaps infiltrating the group for a little longer might help me get to the bottom of it.’

The house was calm and inviting, with the wood burner lit and the wine glasses set out on the coffee table along with several bowls of nibbles.

When Binnie and Clara arrived, Jude ushered them into the sitting room where Pip and Alfie welcomed them with an abundance of sniffs.

‘We were just mulling over the takeaway options,’ said Jude. ‘Any preferences?’

‘I’m happy with anything.’ Clara took her coat off and hung it over the back of one of the armchairs before sitting down. ‘Thanks for inviting me.’

Jude saw a stark change in Clara. Dark circles clung to the skin beneath her eyes and the smile she gave Jude seemed very much surface deep. Lucy poured drinks for everyone whilst Jude passed a cluster of takeaway menus over for Binnie and Clara to see.

‘Will they all deliver out here?’ Clara asked.

‘These ones do,’ said Jude. ‘But there are others who won’t come out to the sticks. You’ll find all these things out when you move into the village.’

‘Ah, yes.’ Lucy wrapped her legs beneath her and sat back against the sofa cushions, cradling her glass of wine in both hands. ‘I gather you’re taking Margot Lloyd’s cottage.’

‘That’s right. I move in on Monday,’ said Clara. ‘I’ve got the weekend to pack and I’ve rented a van to shift it all, not that I have all that much stuff to shift.’

‘Do you want a hand?’ Jude asked.

‘Thanks, but Andy has offered to help load up the boxes and drive them over for me.’ Clara took some peanuts from the bowl Binnie passed her. ‘I don’t fancy driving something that big round the country roads, I’m nervous enough in my little car to be honest.’

Jude remembered the first time she’d driven the livestock lorry out of the farm’s drive. It had terrified her but she knew she just had to get on with it. ‘You’ll get used to it soon enough,’ she said. ‘But it’ll be good to have one less thing to worry about on moving day.’

‘To be honest, I think it’s a good distraction for poor Andy too,’ Clara said. ‘He’s so upset about Becka and he’s finding it really hard to concentrate on his writing at the moment.’

‘It sounds like you’re doing a good job of supporting each other,’ said Binnie.

Clara’s smile was a tired one but there was still a glow about it as she talked about Andy. ‘We are. He actually came around last night and we stayed up quite late talking. I had it wrong about him and Becka. There’d never been anything romantic between them, they were just good friends after all.’

She tucked a curl behind her ear and blushed slightly.

Jude thought of all the little glances she’d seen Clara cast Andy’s way and wondered what else had happened between them whilst he had been round there. ‘Am I sensing that the two of you might be a couple now?’ she asked.

‘Not exactly a couple,’ said Clara quickly. ‘I don’t know, it just seems so heartless to make anything official so soon after Becka.’

‘I’m sure she’d be delighted,’ said Jude with great feeling. ‘As you said, she was never romantically attached to Andy, and she was good friends with you both. Surely she’d want you to take your chance at happiness?’

‘Maybe,’ said Clara.

Jude caught Lucy’s eye and knew exactly what her expression meant. Her sister was wordlessly telling her that the advice she’d just given Clara was the same advice Jude herself had ignored where Marco was concerned.

‘Well, if nobody else has a preference then I vote for Chinese,’ said Binnie. ‘I’m famished so let’s get the order in.’

Whilst they waited for their food to arrive, Jude stoked the fire and they relaxed into their evening.

‘What’s bringing you over to this side of the hills?’ Lucy asked.

‘It was Becka who found the cottage for me,’ said Clara. ‘She was like that. Always looking out for everyone and helping out if she could.’

‘You must miss her terribly,’ said Jude gently.

‘She was the first person I met when I moved to Malvern.’ Clara stared into the flames of the wood burner. ‘She wasn’t looking where she was going when we were in Waitrose and rammed her trolley into my ankles. It hurt like hell.’

‘I bet it did,’ said Binnie. ‘Becka must have been mortified.’

‘She was. She insisted on taking me to the coffee shop to apologise and we ended up chatting for so long that most of my frozen shopping completely defrosted. I told her I was new to the area and hadn’t met many people and she sort of made it her mission to show me the ropes. It’s going to be really weird without her on Sunday, I’m not sure if I want to go on a walk so soon after…’

Binnie leant over and gave her a hug. ‘You made more than one friend amongst the ramblers,’ she said. ‘I know it’ll be horrid to begin with but I hope you’ll still walk with the rest of us. We’d miss you terribly if you didn’t.’

‘Thanks.’ Clara gave Binnie a watery smile and then took a large gulp of wine. ‘Has anyone seen Joyce since it all happened?’

‘No,’ said Binnie. ‘I tried calling but she didn’t pick up. Have you spoken to her?’

Clara shook her head. ‘She must be feeling terrible, what with Becka dying before they had a chance to patch things up.’

‘Becka’s firm used to look after Joyce’s finances, didn’t it?’ asked Lucy.

‘That’s right, until Phil took it over. But Joyce and Becka’s relationship went further back than that.’ Clara pulled at one of her curls and looked at Lucy as though trying to decide how much she should be saying. ‘Oh, I don’t suppose it matters if I tell you now. Becka had a secret ambition that Joyce was helping her with. She had a real interest in investigative work and wanted to move away from finance, something she’d never really planned on getting into in the first place. What she really wanted to do was set up as a private investigator.’

‘Goodness,’ said Jude. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’

‘How long had she been planning this change of career?’ Binnie asked.

‘I think it had been a pipe dream for years and then she mentioned it to Joyce during one of their meetings and, well, you know what Joyce is like.’

Despite only having met her once, Jude felt that she did indeed know exactly what Joyce Mason was like. If anyone could have bullishly persuaded Becka to follow her dreams then it would have been Joyce.

‘Well, Joyce certainly knows her way around the inner workings of an investigation,’ said Binnie. ‘She’s still a bit of a legend at the station. Her and her ex-partner Jim Dusk were renowned for getting to the truth.’

‘He was the one who fell off his ladder in the summer, wasn’t he?’ Lucy asked.

‘That’s him. Word is that as far as the two of them were concerned, if getting to the truth meant using slightly underhand methods to arrive there, so be it. These days they’d almost certainly tie themselves up in so much red tape they wouldn’t be able to move but things were different back then.’

‘It sounds like the concept for a brilliant eighties police drama.’ Jude chuckled at the thought. ‘They could call it Joyce Bravo, or Mason and Dusk.’

‘I have to say I can’t help feeling sorry for any criminal who came up against Joyce in her prime.’ Clara’s eyes were wide. ‘She must have been even more frightening than she is now, and that’s saying something.’

‘Do you think Becka would have done it in the end?’ Binnie asked. ‘Quit her job at Bryson and Bull and set up as a private investigator?’

Clara chewed the handful of nuts she’d just put in her mouth and frowned a little in contemplation before swallowing. ‘I think she’d have liked to, but she was a long way off that. She’d have definitely needed the security of her job in finance to fund any new venture even if she had decided to go for it.’

Jude wondered who would hire someone with no investigative background and zero experience. She imagined PIs to be all about cloak-and-dagger surveillance and murder cases that the police had failed to solve but that was down to the warped take the television offered her. Becka, however, had something different she could potentially offer. Was it possible that her skills fell less into the bracket of stake-outs and binoculars and more into the realms of business mismanagement and fraud? Her job as a financial adviser would surely have equipped her with a lot of computer savvy as well as an understanding of how the world of money worked.

The doorbell rang and Lucy got up to collect the takeaway whilst the others carried their glasses into the kitchen where Jude had already set out four places.

‘Here we go.’ Lucy put the bag of food on the table and unloaded the foil containers. ‘Dig in whilst it’s still hot.’

Jude went to the drawer to fetch some serving spoons.

‘It sounds like Becka was pretty unhappy when Phil came to live with Joyce and took her financial affairs away from Bryson and Bull.’

‘She was.’ Clara started to peel off the oily cardboard lids. ‘But it wasn’t because she’d lost Joyce’s business. Becka felt as though her professional integrity had been brought into question. Not that Phil ever said anything outright to her, it was more that Joyce – being Joyce – made a couple of little digs at Becka when they were having an argument about the idea of handing her finances over to Phil.’

Lucy raised her eyebrows. ‘Becka didn’t trust him?’

Clara passed the egg fried rice across the table to Binnie. ‘I think she just felt that it’s never a good idea for things like this to be handled by a family member. It has the potential to blow up and cause rifts.’

‘I can understand that,’ Binnie said. ‘Especially with the fraud scandal involving Phil’s ex-business partner.’

‘Instead, it blew up and caused a rift between Joyce and Becka,’ said Jude thoughtfully. She’d seen firsthand the friction between the two women during their spat on the hills.

Jude remembered the anger on Joyce’s face and the exasperation on Becka’s as they’d clashed, and found herself wondering again what the true meaning of the argument had been. Becka had mentioned the fact that she wasn’t prepared to turn a blind eye to things she saw as damaging. Was it possible that she’d been talking about something she’d uncovered in one of her investigations? And if so, did it have anything to do with why she had been so dubious about the wisdom of Phil holding the reins of Joyce’s financial decisions?

Jude remembered something else too from that argument. Joyce had delivered a warning. She’d told Becka that she knew what she was doing and that she had to stop. Was there a chance that Becka had refused and Joyce or Phil had found another way to stop her? Perhaps that chunk of missing time before the crash had been filled with a conversation between Becka and the Masons.

It was not something to explore further then, in front of Clara, but it was certainly something she wanted to talk to Binnie about later.

‘Do you know if Becka was worried about anything in particular?’ Binnie asked.

Clara looked at her quizzically. ‘In what way?’

‘Just after she left the British Camp car park, she called Andy to tell him that something had frightened her and that she wanted to see him that evening for a drink to ask his advice.’

Clara’s fork clattered as she let go of it just a fraction before it was on her plate. ‘Was that why she went off the road? Because she was on the phone?’

‘No,’ said Binnie. ‘We have her phone records and can see that the call was made at around three fifteen, just after she left.’

‘I remember Andy taking a call.’ Jude also remembered how downcast Clara had looked when that call meant that he hadn’t stayed to join them for hot chocolate. Perhaps Becka had pulled over to make the call which was why the others had passed her before she crashed. ‘Becka didn’t tell him what she wanted to talk to him about?’

‘He said she sounded worried but that she wanted to speak with him face-to-face that evening.’

‘Except of course she wouldn’t have shown up.’ Clara blinked back her tears. ‘She was such a strong person and never gave even the smallest hint that there was anything bothering her. Do you think whatever it was might have been on her mind as she was driving and made her lose her concentration?’ As she searched for an explanation her eyebrows drew up over the bridge of her nose in a spike of torment.

Clara clearly didn’t know about the second car that had possibly been involved in the crash. But Jude did know, and her skin prickled as she realised that whatever Becka had been wanting to tell Andy might just have been the thing that had made someone want to silence her.

9

Later that evening, after Binnie and Clara had gone home, Lucy and Jude put their pyjamas on and sat down with a cup of tea as they often did before they went to bed.

‘What do you think of Clara?’ Jude pulled the band from her ponytail and let her conker-coloured hair fall loosely as she massaged her scalp to relieve the tension.

‘She seems really nice.’ Lucy took a blanket from the back of the sofa and laid it over her curled-up legs. ‘I certainly can’t see her rubbing any of the Malvern End villagers up the wrong way.’

Jude’s phone rang and she put her mug of mint tea down so she could pick it up.

‘Who the hell is calling at this time of night?’ Lucy asked.

Jude picked up the phone and showed the screen to Lucy before answering it. ‘Hi, Binnie. Everything okay?’

‘Sorry to call late but I thought you’d still be up. I just wanted your take on what Clara said about Becka and the whole PI thing.’

‘Lucy’s here with me. Do you mind if I put you on speaker?’

‘Go ahead. Three minds are better than two.’

Jude flicked the phone to speaker mode and rested it on the table before picking up her tea and settling back into the sofa.

‘Hi, Binnie,’ said Lucy. ‘Missing us already?’

‘Of course.’ Binnie chuckled. ‘Also, I was interested in the idea of Becka’s secret investigative ambitions. It certainly opens up a whole new line of thinking, wouldn’t you say?’

‘You mean there might be something in my theory that Becka’s accident wasn’t quite so accidental?’ Jude felt her skin begin to tingle in the way it did when there was unsolved danger creeping closer.

‘I just think we need to cover all bases,’ said Binnie. ‘The witness who saw a second car definitely raised the stakes.’

‘And don’t forget she told Andy she was frightened about something but she never got the chance to tell him what it was.’ Jude looked into the steaming yellow-green water in her mug and tried not to imagine how scared Becka must have been as she crashed through the barrier and was thrown down the side of the hill. ‘And Becka didn’t come across as the sort of person to frighten easily. Look how she stood up to Damien Hawker. Talking of which, have you spoken to him yet? Wouldn’t surprise me if his car matched the description of the one the witness saw.’

‘She was too busy worrying about her dogs to take a proper look and frustratingly the description she gave couldn’t be vaguer. Dark in colour, not sporty and not a massive 4x4 but nothing else.’

‘Half the cars in Malvern fit that description,’ said Jude. ‘Is Damien’s at least one of them?’

‘I did pop round to see him and yes, it does fit, but there was no obvious sign of damage and he said he hadn’t been anywhere near Jubilee Drive that day.’

‘Well, that doesn’t mean anything,’ Jude pointed out.

‘I know, which is why he’s definitely still on my radar. I am also very keen to find out what Becka might have uncovered during her dip into the world of amateur sleuthing though.’

‘Can you get hold of her laptop?’ Lucy asked.

‘I can,’ said Binnie. ‘But I also thought I’d pay Joyce a visit. Off the record, just to chat about Becka and dig a little into what she’d been working on.’

Jude looked at Lucy and cocked her head to one side. ‘I wondered whether Joyce and Phil were actually the centre of one of Becka’s investigations. Or rather Phil’s business was.’

‘I thought the same,’ said Lucy. ‘Clara said there’d been some wariness from Becka when Phil took over Joyce’s financial affairs. What if there was more to it than just her concerns around hiring a member of the family?’

‘That’s a good point,’ said Binnie. ‘I would definitely like to get Joyce’s take on things.’

‘That sounds sensible,’ said Jude.

‘Great,’ said Binnie. ‘I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow.’

‘You want me to come?’

‘You knew Becka too, it’s natural you’d want to come to pass on your condolences. And you might clock something I miss. It wouldn’t be the first time.’

The thought of spending the morning in Joyce Mason’s company was not one that filled Jude with excitement in the slightest. But if Joyce did know anything about an investigation that Becka had been involved in then Jude wanted to know about it. It would also be very interesting to see Joyce’s reaction when Binnie brought up the topic of Becka’s secret PI training.

‘Fine. I’ll see you at ten.’

Joyce’s house was a surprise to Jude, although she wasn’t exactly sure what she’d been expecting. She lived in Hanley Swan on the other side of the hills in a seventies bungalow that was as neat as it was twee. The completely weed-free driveway looked as though it had been either freshly laid or thoroughly cleaned and there was a low brick wall that ran along the side to separate it from the immaculate front garden.

‘It looks like nobody’s here,’ said Jude, noticing the absence of any other cars.

‘I called ahead.’ Binnie opened her car door. ‘Joyce is expecting us.’

‘Wow,’ said Jude as she stepped out onto the paved drive. ‘Would you look at that.’ She nodded towards the middle of the impeccably manicured lawn where a round fishpond stood, proudly showing off the pair of cavorting cherubs that rose from the centre. Water spouted from the cornucopia shell they carried between them and splashed into the pool below.

‘Come on.’ Binnie opened the little wooden gate that led onto a strip of crazy paving which they followed up to the front door.

When Binnie pressed the doorbell, Jude heard the Westminster chimes of Big Ben inside and then a riot of noise as Rex started to bark and Joyce shouted at him to stop. Of course, Rex interpreted this as a human form of barking and encouragement for him to ramp it up a gear.

Joyce opened the door, bent over with her hand clasped on the dog’s collar. He was pulling to see whether he was required to chase off the invaders or welcome them in with a bounce and a lick.

‘Rex, be quiet,’ Joyce roared. ‘He’s completely untrainable. Ridiculous animal.’

Jude stretched her hand out and allowed Rex to sniff it before giving him a gentle tickle around the ears whilst she talked softly to him. It was enough to make him register that these were friends and he stopped barking and allowed them to enter.

‘It’s good of you both to visit,’ said Joyce as she led them through into the kitchen, where Jude spotted a collection of novelty teapots in the shapes of cottages and animals displayed behind the glass of a large Welsh dresser.

‘You have a beautiful home,’ said Jude.

‘Thank you.’ Joyce indicated the oak dining table surrounded by four chairs, all neatly padded with cushions – the same floral fabric as the swagged blinds.

Jude sat down and felt the cushion slide a little over the polished wood of the chair, but two bows held it in place. She felt as though a straight back was the position required in a room such as this and she tucked her ankles neatly together.

‘How are you, Joyce?’ Binnie asked. ‘I know how close you and Becka were.’

‘It was indeed a terrible shock.’ Joyce carried over a brass tray and set it down on the table. ‘Such an awful thing to happen.’

Binnie and Jude helped her take the tea set off the tray: teapot, cups, saucers, milk jug and sugar bowl, all embellished with pink and yellow roses and without a single chip. Joyce took the tray back to the counter to collect a coffee and walnut cake, three plates and some tiny cake forks.

‘This is so kind of you,’ said Jude.

‘I’m glad of the company.’ Joyce put the cake on the table and passed Jude a sharp knife. ‘Please help yourself.’

‘No Phil this morning?’ Binnie asked.

‘He’s visiting a potential client.’ Having created the perfect tea table, Joyce finally sat down with her guests. ‘I’m so proud of how he’s picked himself up and started again. It’s not easy, you know.’

‘I can’t imagine that it is.’ Jude slid a slice of cake onto one of the plates and passed it to Joyce. ‘Am I right in thinking that he’s hoping to rent an office space of his own?’

‘He’s very eager, yes. I’ve suggested that he waits until he’s got enough work to support a business but he seems to think that having the office first will drive new clients.’ Joyce poured milk into the bottom of the three teacups. ‘I suppose it’s a chicken and egg situation, only with an expensive rental agreement to think about.’

Jude recognised the age-old risk conundrum. She’d only just made back the enormous outlay she’d had to stump up when setting up the high-end campsite at the farm. At the time, she’d felt nauseous every time she watched the bank loan disappear on luxury tents, homely furnishings and comfortable beds. Not to mention the cost of the solar panels and generator to supply the electricity, as well as kitting out the shower block and compost toilets to a high standard that would attract guests with bigger bank accounts than hers.

‘There are all sorts of startup business loans out there that he could look into,’ Jude suggested.

Joyce sighed. ‘He doesn’t look a very good prospect on paper, I’m afraid. Not after the disaster of running a business that was then closed due to fraudulent activity. It was proven that poor Phil had nothing to do with any of it, but that doesn’t stop the tar dripping off his business partner’s mucky dealings and tainting Phil’s reputation too.’

‘I’m sure it won’t take long to build things up again,’ said Binnie. ‘Once he’s got a few happy clients then word of mouth will no doubt lead to more.’

‘I’m sure you’re right.’

‘I heard Becka talking about wanting to start again as well.’

Jude was in awe of how seamlessly Binnie diverted the discussion to exactly what they’d come to talk to Joyce about.

‘She said you’d been helping her learn about the investigative process.’

Joyce’s eyes narrowed just a little as she looked across the table at Binnie. Jude knew that she had been a fierce detective in her time and would therefore be very well-practised in sniffing out a fibber.

‘I didn’t know she’d talked to anyone other than myself about her plans. She was adamant that she wanted to keep it a secret until she was ready to start taking on cases.’

‘I think she wanted another couple of heads to bounce ideas off.’ Binnie spoke with complete innocence, as though she had no idea that Joyce was weighing up her truths. ‘Clara also knew, and she also had a close friendship with Andy. I think she saw him as a bit of a confidante, and there was certainly something on her mind that she wanted to talk through with him the day she died.’

‘Pah,’ Joyce snorted. ‘Is it ever wise to share secrets with a writer? And a crime writer too. Always making up stories and twisting things around to suit. I bet he told you he used to be a prison officer?’

Jude looked at Joyce in surprise. ‘Wasn’t he?’

‘Of course he wasn’t. That’s just a story he concocted to sell books. Imagine what his dedicated readers would have to say if they found out he was a fake.’

‘Did Becka know this?’ Binnie asked.

‘She was the one who found out. She decided to do a little digging into the backgrounds of people she knew, which is never a good idea, in my opinion.’

Jude thought about the impact Becka’s discovery might have had on Andy’s career. Was it enough of a threat for him to want to avoid at any cost? They knew Becka had called him as soon as she left the car park but they only had his word on what they’d spoken about. Could she actually have been calling to tell him that she knew he was a fraud?

‘What’s going on here?’ Joyce’s eyes narrowed further as she scrutinised Binnie’s face. ‘Do you think there was foul play involved in Becka’s death?’

‘Goodness, now there’s a suggestion.’ Binnie sipped her tea calmly. ‘I’m just trying to find out as much as I can about Becka, make sure I don’t miss anything.’

Joyce nodded. ‘Then I assume you are here because you already know that we were looking at old cases together. Things that I’d worked on in the past and also some interesting cases from elsewhere in the country. Becka wanted to see how investigations are put together. She had such drive and passion, it reminded me so much of myself when I started out.’

Joyce stopped and took a sip of her tea as she gazed down at the cotton doily that covered the centre of the table. ‘She would have made an excellent detective,’ she said after a while. ‘Not everyone has all the right ingredients, but Becka did.’

‘Were there any particular cases that she took more of an interest in than others?’ Jude asked.

‘Are you here in a professional or social capacity?’ Joyce’s head snapped up. ‘Because it feels a little as though I’m being questioned.’

‘I’m not working today, so nothing you say will be on the record,’ said Binnie, choosing to play her hand. ‘But you’re right. I’m not convinced by the current verdict that the crash was accidental.’

‘Let me guess, DCI Peters isn’t interested in your theory?’

Binnie shrugged. ‘There’s not enough to elevate it other than a hunch and a belief that Becka was a sensible driver who knew the twists and turns of the hill roads like the back of her hand.’

Joyce laced her fingers together and rested her elbows on the table.

‘But something made her drive off the edge of the road with enough speed to burst through the barrier and plummet down the hill,’ she said. ‘Car and driver both thoroughly tested for faults, I assume?’

‘You know I can’t discuss details at this point,’ said Binnie.

‘Quite right too but I assume, as you’re here, that nothing untoward was uncovered there.’

Jude watched Joyce’s face as she talked about the death of the woman she’d been both a friend and mentor to with a noticeable lack of emotion.

‘You will no doubt be looking at each member of the rambling group and wondering if any of us could have been the one to push her off the hills.’ There was no malice in the statement, only a professional assumption which was, of course, correct.

Binnie didn’t answer.

‘You will want to know what each of us did when we left the car park that day and I will save you the awkwardness of asking me outright. I went straight to Becka’s house.’ Joyce scooped up a forkful of cake and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly.

‘That’s why you went down Jubilee Drive instead of heading home through Little Malvern or Malvern Wells,’ said Jude.

Joyce dabbed the corner of her mouth with a stiffly ironed napkin ‘I’m very glad to hear that you spotted this. The next question you will want me to answer is what I was doing at Becka’s house and I’m sure you’ll be interested to hear that she asked me to meet her there. As we were nearing the end of our walk, she said that she needed to tell me something and asked if I could go and see her straight away.’

‘She gave you no indication of what it might have been about?’ asked Binnie.

‘None at all. She didn’t seem particularly agitated or desperate so I wasn’t alarmed. I thought perhaps she wanted to talk through our misunderstanding or perhaps even apologise for her unnecessary overreaction. I’m sure that by now someone has told you how rude Becka was when I decided to support my nephew by moving charge of my financial advice away from Bryson and Bull?’

She looked at Binnie expectantly.

‘We are aware of the rift between you,’ said Binnie. ‘So, you left the car park and drove straight to Becka’s house. Did you go inside when you got there?’

Joyce looked surprised. ‘No, of course I didn’t. She wasn’t there so I sat in the car for fifteen minutes and then, when she didn’t answer her phone, I left.’

Jude was piecing things together in her head, the little fragments that had seemed innocuous whilst they were all out walking in the sun but which now potentially held far more meaning. Joyce had called Becka a troublemaker and had told her to stop whatever she was up to, to which Becka had replied with a warning of her own, telling Joyce that she wouldn’t turn a blind eye. It was highly possible that this was what Becka had wanted to discuss with Joyce but it seemed unlikely that a direct suggestion to this effect from Jude would go down very well at this point.

And then there was Becka’s throwaway comment about superpowers and how she had a brilliant memory for faces and people. This could be a safer line of enquiry.

‘I can’t help wondering if Becka had discovered something about one of the other walkers,’ she said. ‘Something from their past perhaps that they’d rather have kept hidden.’

The penetrating stare that Joyce gave her made Jude feel uncomfortable. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It was the game Becka instigated whilst we were having lunch, asking us about our superpowers. She told us that she was incredibly good at remembering people she’d seen before. What if she was actually telling someone there that they’d been spotted? We already know that she’d been looking into Andy’s history and discovered that he’d never been a prison guard.’

‘You think she may have been giving a warning to someone in our group?’ Joyce asked.

‘Potentially.’ Jude was warming up to her theory but Joyce’s face had turned decidedly steely.

‘I think you might be looking for hidden meanings where there aren’t any. If I were leading this investigation I would be advising you to leave supposition and flaky half thoughts at the door.’ Joyce’s bobbed hair quivered as she spoke. ‘If someone did run Becka off the road deliberately then you need to be focusing on finding evidence that will point you to that person. Hard evidence, not feelings about off-the-cuff comments made over a pub lunch.’

Jude felt the weight of Joyce’s words but Binnie brushed them aside.

‘As Jude said, you already mentioned Becka’s investigation into Andy. Were there any other cases that you were looking at together that might have thrown up any potentially difficult questions for anyone in the walking group or beyond for that matter?’

‘No.’ Joyce was starting to look angry. ‘As I told you, I think it’s a mistake to dig into the lives of people you know. All the cases we looked at together were old and solved. And they didn’t involve any of our members. I commend your efforts and whole-heartedly agree that it’s worth looking into any investigations that she might have been doing on her own. Your tech team will be able to do that by looking at her laptop, I’m sure. But I’m afraid I can’t help you.’

Rex, who had been sniffing around the table hoping for titbits, suddenly barked in outrage and skidded across the red-tiled floor towards the kitchen door.

‘Be quiet,’ Joyce barked back at him.

She got up from the table and went over to open the door out into the hallway. Rex flew straight through and barked at the letterbox which now had a clutch of envelopes and junk flyers poking out of it.

‘Blow it,’ said Joyce as she walked back into the kitchen carrying her post. ‘I was hoping it would be Phil. He promised he’d be back by now as he’s using my car whilst his is at the garage, and I need to leave for my hairdresser appointment in half an hour.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Jude. ‘Is there a problem with his car?’

Joyce stared at her and Jude was absolutely certain she could hear the unsaid question that Jude had hidden inside her innocent one. If there was a problem with the car, had it been caused by shunting another car off the edge of Jubilee Drive?

‘It’s having the MOT done,’ said Joyce. ‘It’s been booked in for weeks.’

‘Where is your hairdresser?’ Binnie asked. ‘Can we drop you off when we leave?’

Joyce threw a dog biscuit into Rex’s bed before returning to her place at the table. ‘I’m sure he’ll be home soon. He’s a good man, and he won’t have forgotten. I am sorry though as I’m going to have to start getting ready to go out.’

She stacked the plates and put them on the tray.

‘Thank you so much for the delicious cake,’ said Jude as she stood up and started gathering the cups and saucers together.

‘Are you sure you don’t want a lift?’ Binnie put the teapot onto Joyce’s tray and picked up the cake and knife. ‘Just in case Phil has got caught up. It’s really no bother.’

Joyce softened a bit then. ‘Perhaps that would be wise. Gill always books up months in advance so if I miss my appointment I’ll have to wait ages for another one.’

Phil still hadn’t returned by the time all the tea things had been cleared away. Joyce went to a set of hooks screwed into the wall next to the dresser and took off a housekey on a long brown shoelace.

‘Oh, the silly boy,’ she said as she held a second house key up, this one on a leather keyring. ‘Phil’s left his key behind.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I need to sort Rex out. Would one of you check that there’s a spare in the key safe? It’s on the side wall, hidden by a hanging basket. If it’s empty then you can put this in.’

Jude took the keyring whilst Joyce pushed Rex out into the back garden for a wee.

‘What’s the code?’ Jude asked.

‘It’s 0075.’ Joyce went outside and picked up a watering can which she followed Rex around the garden with, presumably so that the dog pee didn’t scorch her immaculate grass.

Jude found the metal key safe, neatly hidden by a basket full of purple and white pansies and blue lobelia, and she pulled the plastic flap down to reveal the combination lock.

‘Double oh seven,’ she chuckled to herself as she scrolled in the numbers.

There was already a key inside so she closed the safe and scrambled the code as a scuffle of tyres on block paving alerted her to the fact that a car had driven onto the drive.

She turned to see Phil jump out of Joyce’s navy-blue Honda and rush over to the front door.

‘Here,’ she called. ‘You’ll be needing this.’

Phil looked over and saw her holding his house key out. ‘Jude! What are you doing here?’

‘Binnie and I have just had a lovely cuppa with your aunt and were about to take her to her hair appointment.’

Phil took the key and pushed it into the front door. ‘Is she fuming that I’m late?’ he asked, before turning it.

Jude smiled. ‘She’ll be glad you’re here now, I’m sure.’

The door opened and Binnie and Joyce stepped out.

‘Phil! Just in time.’ Joyce held her hand out for the car key which her nephew deposited into her palm.

‘Sorry I’m late.’

‘Never mind. You can take Rex out for his walk whilst I’m at the hairdresser.’

Phil looked less than delighted at that thought as he watched Joyce march over to her car and get in.

‘See you girls on Sunday at The Lamb. Midday sharp so that we have plenty of time for lunch and a walk.’ Joyce slammed the driver’s door and reversed at speed out of the drive and into the road.

Jude and Binnie said goodbye to Phil and went back to their car.

‘Well, that was interesting,’ said Binnie as she buckled up her seatbelt and started the engine. ‘I don’t know what I make of Phil. He seems like a nice enough bloke but there’s something about him. Do you know what I mean?’

Jude had been wondering the same. ‘Do you think it’s a corporate thing? You know, well-practised in the charm offensive but with a ruthless streak.’

‘Maybe.’ Binnie reversed out of the drive and headed out of Hanley Swan.

As they drove back to the farm, Jude thought about Phil Mason and wondered how deep that ruthless streak went.

10

Jude wasn’t exactly looking forward to the next Malvern Roaming and Rambling Society walk, and yet when the day arrived, she was awake early with an expectant feeling of seeing the walking group together again and perhaps finding out something new to help her work out what realistic options were open when thinking about Becka’s death.

She looked out of her bedroom window at the sky which could, at that time of year, be either full of autumn promise or overcast with the gloom of another fast-approaching winter.

‘Looks like we might be lucky,’ she said to herself as she pulled on a pair of thick cotton trousers with reinforced knee pads. Before she could get ready for her pub lunch at The Lamb, she had work on the farm to attend to.

It took longer than Jude had anticipated to give the hedges around the farm their autumn haircuts and she still had some to go when she looked at her watch and realised that if she didn’t get ready for her pub lunch, she’d be turning up in her work clothes and smelling of the farm.

Bringing in the arm of the hedge cutter, Jude drove Maz, her trusty Massey Ferguson 298, back through the grazing fields to the yard. There she found Noah and Sebbie pulling a trolley containing a hay bale across the concrete with Noah’s dogs, Floss and Ned, skipping along next to them. She jumped down from the cab and went over to meet them.

‘We’re going to feed Pancake and Gertie,’ Sebbie said. ‘Are you coming?’

Jude dropped a kiss on the top of his strawberry-blond mess of hair that was beginning to look more and more like the hay he was pulling. ‘I can’t, I’m afraid. I need to have a shower and then I’m going to The Lamb with Binnie.’

‘Ah yes, that’s today, isn’t it?’ said Noah. ‘I hope it goes okay.’

‘Can I come too?’ Sebbie abandoned the handle of the trolley, his task instantly forgotten at the thought of a bottle of Appletiser and a plate of sausage and pub chips.

‘Not this time. It’s grown-ups only but if you’re good and help Noah feed the animals now, I think there might be a bar of Tony’s waiting in the cupboard for you when you’ve finished.’

‘Brilliant!’ Sebbie was instantly sold on the thought of a bar of his favourite chocolate and bent down to pick up the handle again. ‘I’ll give lots of hay to Marlie and Maud too. And the Kerries.’

Jude smiled at his love for all her pet sheep: the two curly-fleeced Valais Blacknoses and the four Kerry Hills that were a part of the unrealistic picture-book version of a farm that her camping guests came to see.

‘Extra hay for the Kerries, please,’ she said. ‘Hopefully they might have babies in them now.’

‘I’ll look after them.’ Sebbie took his farming role very seriously and Jude smiled to herself as he set off again with both arms locked behind him as he tugged the handle of the heavy trolley. Noah gave it a shove to help it along.

‘Bye then, Jude. See you later,’ he said.

A car pulled up as Jude was taking her boots off in the porch and Binnie got out, looking like a cover girl for Ramblers Monthly with her hair slicked back in a neat bun and her weatherproof jacket perfectly fitted to her curves. Jude felt decidedly under par in her baggy old fleece with tendrils of hair escaping from the piece of baling twine she’d knotted around her ponytail when the hair bobble broke.

‘Nearly ready?’ Binnie asked.

‘Won’t be long, I just need a quick shower and change.’ She opened the door into the kitchen. ‘Come in and have a chat with Lucy whilst you wait.’

‘I thought you wanted to walk down to The Lamb?’ Binnie followed her inside.

‘It’ll only take me twenty minutes to get ready, fifteen if I don’t dry my hair. We’ve got loads of time.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Bugger, where did that last half hour go?’

‘We really need to get going,’ said Binnie.

‘I’ll skip the shower and just put some clean clothes on. Give me two minutes.’

Jude yanked her fleece off as she pelted out of the kitchen and unzipped her fly as she ran up the stairs. She hopped around her bedroom pulling her work trousers off and a pair of jeans on and then grabbed another hair bobble from her dressing table, adding a scrunchy to her wrist just in case.

True to her word, she was back in the kitchen in less than three minutes, twisting her hair out of the way in a messy bun.

‘I’ve put a water bottle, poop bags and the dogs’ collapsible bowl in your backpack,’ said Lucy, handing the bag to her. ‘I thought it best to leave out the brownies this time.’

‘With one of Ted’s roast dinners in me, I’ll not want to eat anything else for a week.’ Jude laughed as she laced up her boots. ‘Besides, we’re only going to be walking for a couple of hours if Joyce is doing the route I think she is.’

Jude stood up and called the dogs to her. ‘Come on then.’

‘I hope it goes well,’ Lucy said as she waved them off from the kitchen door.

‘Is everyone coming?’ Jude asked Binnie as they walked at speed across the yard to the gate into the first pasture field.

‘As far as I know.’ Binnie latched the gate behind them. ‘It would be a brave person to refuse Joyce.’

‘Have you spoken to her since we were round there?’

‘No. I’ve been thinking about it a lot though.’ Binnie pulled the straps of her backpack to tighten them. ‘I am almost certain she knows more than she’s letting on.’

‘You mean about the investigations that Becka was doing?’

‘Yes. We looked at Becka’s laptop and there’s nothing on it to show she was keeping notes about any sort of investigation.’

‘Could they have been deleted?’ Jude asked.

‘It’s possible but I can’t authorise a deeper search. The DCI was livid I’d even been looking in the first place. As far as he’s concerned, there’s nothing suspicious about the crash other than the possibility of the other driver running her off the road as a result of dangerous driving.’ Binnie sighed. ‘Until we come up with something more concrete to help build a case to the contrary, there’s nothing else I can do in an official capacity.’

‘Then let’s do a little more digging in a less official one then.’ Jude opened the gate into the top field and they walked through. ‘I know you already spoke to Damien but can he prove that he wasn’t anywhere near Jubilee Drive that afternoon?’

‘He says he was on the farm for the rest of the day after we left. As we’re not looking into this as a murder inquiry, I can’t put any resources into trying to disprove this.’

‘I’ll have a word with Frank,’ Jude said. ‘See if he noticed Damien leave the farm at any point that day.’

It wasn’t long before they were at the edge of the farmland and let themselves through the gate onto the footpath just outside the Malvern Farm boundary. It was a muddy track with hedges on both sides that led into woodland if they turned right but Jude and Binnie went left towards the village of Malvern End. At the end of the track, Jude clipped on Pip’s lead and looped a halter rope around Alfie’s neck and snout in a figure of eight as he still had an annoying tendency to tug.

The track came out at the end of a row of old labourers’ cottages, built at around the same time as Malvern Farm itself. Second in the row was Marco’s cottage and as Jude and Binnie walked past, he was letting himself out of the garden. His face erupted into a heartwarming grin at the sight of Jude.

‘This is a nice surprise,’ he said. ‘I was just heading over to Mrs James to see if she had any of those amazing chicken and ham pies she gets from Lechmere’s farm for my lunch. What about you two?’

‘We’re heading to The Lamb,’ said Jude.

‘How civilised. I’ll walk with you, if I’m not butting into something.’

‘Of course you’re not.’ Binnie gave him a warm smile. ‘In fact, why don’t you join us at the pub? The others won’t mind, and it’s got to be nicer than a pie from the village shop.’

‘I don’t know.’ Marco looked at Jude for confirmation that this was okay with her. ‘Lechmere’s do make pretty good pies.’

‘They really do,’ Jude agreed. ‘But they’re not nearly as good as Ted’s Sunday roast.’

Marco flicked his overgrown fringe away from his eyes. ‘This is true. Well then, if you don’t think the others will mind an extra seat around the table then I’d love to join you.’

Jude wasn’t sure what Joyce would make of Marco’s last-minute inclusion but she knew that the others wouldn’t mind and it would also be a great way to introduce Clara to her new neighbour.

The three set off past the next cottage where Janet Timms, Malvern End’s resident gossip, lived and then the last one in the terrace: the one owned by Granny Margot and that would be, as of the following day, inhabited by Clara. Even though it had been empty for almost a year, someone had been in to keep the front garden looking neat and Jude had a feeling it was Janet Timms. It was hardly in keeping with the neighbourhood to let things slide, after all, and she was the sort of woman who thought that appearances very much mattered.

The pub was heaving with village folk and visiting walkers when Jude, Binnie and Marco walked through into the oak-beamed bar area. Bines of hops hung from the ceiling and old horse brasses were tacked along the blackened timbers that criss-crossed the walls.

Barbara and Ted were both stationed behind the bar; she was polishing a glass with a tea-towel and he was pouring a pint but they both nodded a friendly greeting.

‘Hello there, Jude.’ Barbara put the glass on a shelf under the bar and picked up another from the dishwasher. ‘Binnie, Marco. It’s nice to see you all. You here for your lunch, are you?’

‘I bumped into these two when I was heading to get a pie from the village shop and they twisted my arm,’ said Marco.

Barbara’s eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. ‘I don’t think there would have been a lot of twisting. What is it, third time we’ve seen him in here this week, Ted, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Third or fourth,’ Ted replied as he put the pint down on the bar and picked up another glass. ‘It’s hard to keep count these days. One of the regulars now, Marco is.’

Jude looked at Marco and raised her eyebrows.

‘What?’ he said defensively. ‘I get lonely.’

‘There you go then, Jude,’ said Ted mischievously. ‘I’d say the boy is asking for company.’

Barbara flicked her husband with the end of the tea-towel.

‘Leave them alone, Ted.’ She turned her back on him and rolled her eyes. ‘Now then, you three. If it’s lunch you’re after then we don’t have any tables free but order your food whilst you have your drinks and we’ll find somewhere to squeeze you in.’

‘We’re actually here with a bigger group,’ said Binnie. ‘It was booked in the name of Joyce Mason.’

‘Oh, her.’ Barbara’s face dropped a little. ‘She’s in the dining room on the big table. It’s a bit tight in there so I suggest you hang your coats and bags up on the pegs by the toilets before you sit down. You’ll be wanting some drinks to take in with you?’

The three friends ordered their drinks and then went to hang their coats and rucksacks up. Drinks in hands, they went through to the newer part of the pub, a long room that had the feel of a barn conversion with a high ceiling and large windows. Joyce was sitting at the head of the largest table, grumbling at a young waiter who had spilled a couple of drops of red wine on the table whilst he was pouring her a glass. So far she was only accompanied by Phil, Brian and Flo.

‘We were beginning to wonder if anyone else was going to turn up,’ Joyce grumbled. ‘I’ve got no idea where Andy and Clara have got to.’ She stopped and looked at Marco. ‘A new member? I’m sorry, I didn’t receive your registration form.’

‘Oh. No, I’m not joining. I’m just a friend of Jude’s.’ Marco pushed his fingers awkwardly through his hair and Jude felt the sudden urge to go and hold his hand as a show of solidarity.

‘This is Marco Ricci.’ Binnie stepped in. ‘He’s a friend of ours and we just bumped into him heading to the village shop to find something for his lunch, so I asked him to join us.’

‘How lovely.’ Flo jumped in, before Joyce had the chance to turn him away. ‘We can’t have you getting your Sunday lunch from a corner shop, can we? I’m Flo and this is my husband, Brian. Ah, and look, here’s Andy coming to join us too.’

She pulled out the chair next to her and patted it as an invitation for Marco, who looked happy to be seated as far from Joyce as possible. Andy walked across the dining room to join them and Jude noticed how tired he looked. It was a stark reminder of the great hole a death carved in the lives of the people left behind. He sat down just as Clara arrived, looking decidedly flustered.

‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ she said. ‘I took a wrong turn on the way here. These country roads are going to take a bit of getting used to.’

‘We’ve only just got here ourselves,’ said Binnie. ‘Come and have a seat.’

‘Oh.’ Clara’s forehead furrowed as she looked at the last chair and then at Jude, who was still standing up with the dogs.

‘I didn’t book enough places for extras.’ Joyce stared across the table pointedly at Marco.

‘Oh, don’t worry about that.’ Jude gave Joyce one of her warmest smiles. ‘The landlord and lady are friends of ours. They won’t mind in the slightest.’ She looked at the table next to her which had five chairs around it but was only laid for four. There was a folded piece of paper in the middle that said:

Reserved Millard x4 1 p.m.

Jude passed the dog leads to Brian so she could purloin the spare chair and Brian shuffled his closer to Flo’s to make space.

‘Plenty of room,’ Brian said as Jude hooked the leads under one of the chair legs and sat down.

Pip and Alfie sniffed at the carpet around the table and then, realising there were no dropped titbits to snaffle up, lay down behind Jude’s chair.

Hamble, the little Cairn terrier, was sitting on Flo’s knee being fussed over by Marco but there was one dog who was extremely noticeable in his absence.

‘No Rex today?’ Jude asked.

‘He’s a pain in the arse around food so we left him in the car whilst we eat,’ said Phil.

Flo looked deeply concerned at the thought. ‘He surely wouldn’t be that bad once he’s settled, would he? Don’t dogs die in cars?’

‘He’ll be absolutely fine.’ Joyce clasped her hands together. ‘It’s not hot out, I left the windows open and he’s got his bed and a chew stick.’

‘Okay then.’ Flo didn’t look convinced.

‘The menu looks good.’ Phil picked up the sheet of card in front of him. ‘I especially like the look of the triple roast. Beef, pork and lamb on one plate – perfect!’

A waiter came over to their table and everyone ordered their food, most people choosing the traditional Sunday roast, although only Phil opting for the full shebang with all three meats on one plate. Whilst they waited for the food to arrive, the conversation turned to Becka and the reason they were all sitting around the table a week after her death.

‘I feel as though a few words ought to be said.’ Joyce stood up as she spoke to indicate that she also thought she was the person who should say them.

As Joyce spoke about the much-respected member of their group and how much they would all miss her company, Marco threw Jude a wide-eyed look that silently said You didn’t tell me I was gatecrashing a memorial party. Jude shot him one back that she hoped said Don’t worry, she’ll be finished soon and then we can get on with the meal.

There was a moment of peace when Joyce sat down as though everyone was digesting her words and spending a respectful minute remembering Becka in their own ways.

Phil was the first to break the silence. ‘Clara, I hear this is going to be your local soon.’

Clara gave a little cough before answering. ‘Yes, that’s right. I’m moving into a cottage just down the road from here tomorrow.’

‘How exciting.’ Flo, whose frizzy topknot had been decorated with a jade ribbon that matched her T-shirt, clapped her hands together in delight. ‘I’m so pleased it all worked out for you. When you’ve settled in, we’ll all have to come round for a coffee, won’t we, Hamble?’ She ruffled the little dog’s ears.

‘That would be lovely,’ said Clara. ‘You’d be welcome any time.’

‘Clara, you haven’t met Marco yet.’ Binnie was sitting in between Clara and Marco and she leant back a little so that the two could see each other. ‘He lives in the cottage a couple of doors down from yours.’

Marco raised a hand in greeting and Clara gave a shy wave back. Jude knew that Clara would be in safe hands with her two friends and she turned her attention to Flo and Brian.

‘This is your local haunt, is it, Jude?’ Brian asked.

‘Yes, that’s right. My farm is set just behind the village.’

‘How lovely. It’s like a little pocket of heaven out here, isn’t it?’ Flo’s smile and engaging intonation was something that automatically made those talking to her smile also.

‘I think so,’ said Jude. ‘How long have you both lived in Malvern?’

Flo’s hand was resting on the table and Brian laid his on top. ‘We retired here almost three years ago now and it was the best decision we ever made.’

Flo looked at her husband adoringly. They really did make the sweetest couple and yet somehow they managed to avoid tipping over into the sickly saccharine. Perhaps, Jude thought, it was because theirs was a world that invited others to join them rather than shut everyone else out.

‘Where did you live before?’ she asked.

‘Outskirts of London,’ Brian said vaguely. ‘Work kept us there but we always dreamed of moving out somewhere quieter and I think we hit the jackpot.’

Jude nodded towards Hamble who was happily sniffing at the tablecloth. ‘Does she think so too?’

Flo leant over and nuzzled her face into the soft fur between the lap dog’s ears. ‘This little poppet has only ever known the country life. We got her as a puppy the week after we moved.’

Jude’s attention was snatched away from her lunch companions as she glanced out of the window and saw the very unwelcome sight of Damien Hawker getting out of a mud-splattered black hot-hatch. Keen to avoid any unpleasant clashes, Jude excused herself, told the dogs to stay put and left the dining room to cut Damien off.

She saw him stoop to get through the pub door and scour the bar area as though looking for someone. As Jude stepped forwards, she saw his eyes alight on her and then he made a beeline through the packed bar in her direction. Damien Hawker had one of those unenviable faces that looked angry all the time but, as he approached, Jude thought that he looked even more revolted with the world than usual.

‘I heard you were in here, planning your next walk.’ He pushed his face unnecessarily close to Jude’s, making her skin crawl as she breathed in the same air as him. ‘I’m surprised to see you still with them, Jude. Especially so close to your own farm.’

Jude was taken aback by this. ‘What do you mean, you heard we were here?’

‘Someone thought I might like to know that those bloody right-to-roamers were going out again. I thought I’d come and keep an eye on things.’

Jude tipped her head in surprise. This wasn’t the first time someone had tipped Damien off about the whereabouts of the walking group. Frank had already had that call from a mysterious woman the week before which had led to Damien waiting for them in the field with his shotgun ready.

‘Who was it that told you?’

‘I don’t know. I never asked her name. But I’m glad she did so I could come and tell them lot again they’re not welcome on farmland. Mine or anyone else’s.’

‘Last time I checked, you didn’t have any land of your own,’ Jude pointed out. ‘And if Frank’s okay with it then I don’t think it has much to do with you.’

Damien’s fists balled and he stepped forward menacingly. ‘You weren’t born into farming so it’s not in your blood. If you were, you’d know that farm folk stick together. Your Adam would have understood.’

At the sound of her husband’s name something snapped inside Jude. ‘Adam would have told you exactly the same thing as I’m telling you now. Back off. We’re here to remember a friend who died and I think it’s best that you respect that and leave us to it.’

‘Oh yeah, I know all about the tragedy of your friend.’ Malice dripped from every word as Damien sneered at her. ‘Your friend and mine. Sad that, wasn’t it?’

The sarcasm in his voice caused bile to rise in Jude’s throat as she thought of poor Becka, trapped in her car whilst her life slowly ebbed away.

‘Was it you?’ Jude found herself asking reflexively.

‘Was what me?’ Damien looked at her steadily.

‘Did you run her off the road?’ Anger had given Jude the push to be every bit as steady as she stared back at him.

‘No,’ he snarled. ‘Like I told your pig friend when she came sniffing round the farm. I was there all afternoon. She checked my car and there was no sign of nothing on it. You’re both gonna have to do better than that if you want to pin anything on me.’

Ted must have noticed the confrontation as he came over to see what was afoot.

‘Everything okay there, Jude?’ he asked.

‘We were just having a little chat here, weren’t we?’ Damien’s eyes didn’t leave Jude’s face as he spoke.

‘Fair enough,’ said Ted. ‘Sadly though, we’re completely full today so I’m going to have to ask you to come back another time.’

‘That’s okay, I only came in for a pint and a packet of pork scratchings. I’ll sit at the bar.’

‘No.’ Ted was firm. ‘There’s no room at the bar, I’m afraid.’

Spud Andrews, one of the regulars from the village who often helped out on Malvern Farm, came to lend a hand.

‘Time to be going, is it, Damien?’ He stood towering over the weaselly man.

Damien looked as though he was about to object but he thought better of it. ‘I’ll just go for a slash then, if that’s not against the law and all.’

Ted nodded and Damien slunk off towards the gents.

‘Thank you,’ Jude said to Ted and Spud. ‘He’s got an axe to grind with the people I’m having lunch with and it could have got messy.’

‘He’s a pain in the arse, that one,’ Spud said. ‘Don’t you worry though, Jude. Go back and enjoy your roast and we’ll get rid of him.’

‘Thanks,’ said Jude. ‘I owe you.’

She walked back to the table cursing whoever it had been who had called Damien. What exactly was their game? A frustrated farmer who’d had their fill of right-to-roamers and knew Damien would need little encouragement to put them in their places? Jude knew many farmers who had issues with walkers paying no heed to their livelihoods. Her friend Gordon, a hop farmer out the other side of Ledbury, had lost several hop yards a few years ago when walkers had ignored the signs he’d put out pleading them to avoid the yards as one had succumbed to the devastation of wilt. It spread on the boots of walkers from one yard to the next, taking out not just that year’s expensive crop, but making the soil itself unsuitable to grow more hops the next year and several after that too.

For as long as there were footpaths through farmland and irresponsible people using them, there would be tension. But who would have known the movements of the walking group other than the members? And why would any of them want to cause trouble?

Lunch had already been served by the time she got back to the table and Jude sank into her chair, grateful that nobody else seemed to have noticed what had been going on in the bar. As she cut into the enormous, fluffy Yorkshire pudding, she looked out of the window and saw a furious-looking Damien getting back into his car. With a skid of the wheels he shot out of the car park, leaving Jude with a sour taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with Ted’s gravy.

11

The food was so good that Jude cleared her plate, saving a roast potato to mop the last smudges of gravy. It had been a treat whilst she’d been eating but when she was walking back through the village towards the track that marked the beginning of their ramble, she regretted the decision to go for rhubarb crumble and custard for pudding.

‘I think I might actually be about to pop the button on these jeans,’ she said to Binnie. ‘Do you think anyone would notice if I undid them for a bit?’

‘Go for it. Your jumper will cover your shame.’

It was a huge relief to let the strain of the denim slacken and Jude pulled her jumper down to make sure she kept her dignity.

‘Are you going to tell me what happened when you disappeared before lunch?’ Binnie asked.

Jude puffed out a release of air. ‘Damien turned up. Apparently some woman gave him a tip-off that we were meeting up for another walk and he thought he’d come and stick his oar in. Spud and Ted managed to persuade him to bugger off though.’

‘That would be the wheel skid we heard?’

Jude nodded.

‘Who would have told him where we were?’ Binnie said. ‘The only women in the group are Joyce, Clara and Flo and I can’t imagine for the life of me why any of them would invite him along to cause chaos.’

‘Neither can I.’ Jude gave a short flick of Alfie’s lead to bring him back to heel.

‘You should have heard the way he spoke about Becka as well. Like he was gloating about her crash. It was really nasty.’

Binnie looked at her. ‘You still think he was involved, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ said Jude. ‘You saw his reaction when he realised that Becka was with us on the walk. According to Becka it was over two years ago that she persuaded her friend to leave him and take the job in Italy but he clearly still has a rather enormous grudge about the whole thing.’

‘He was certainly still very angry about it and it doesn’t take a whole lot of imagination to see how that anger could have bubbled over into aggression.’ Binnie was rubbing her bottom lip thoughtfully. ‘Damien Hawker seems exactly the sort of person who would allow road rage to take over and try and chase someone along a dangerous route like Jubilee Drive.’

‘And to show no signs of remorse if that ended up in a fatal crash,’ Jude added, glad to have Binnie on her side.

‘But we’ve got nothing to prove it was him driving that second car. The only eyewitness is unreliable and there is absolutely no damage to his car that would suggest it was involved in an accident.’

Jude felt deflated. If Damien had been responsible for Becka’s death then it looked as though there was nothing they could do to hold him accountable.

The two friends walked along in silence for a while as they passed the houses on the way out of the village.

‘Marco and Clara seem to be getting on well,’ Jude said as she watched them stop outside the row of cottages a little way ahead of everyone else. There was an ugly little stirring of something that she refused to acknowledge as jealousy as they giggled at a shared joke.

‘It’ll be nice for her to have another friendly face in the village,’ said Binnie.

‘Of course it will.’ Jude smiled broadly and deliberately as she caught them up. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to join us for the walk, Marco?’

‘I haven’t filled in the correct paperwork so technically I’m not sure I’m allowed.’ He grinned and Jude looked over her shoulder at Joyce. ‘Seriously though, I’m in the middle of painting the front room and I’m hoping to get the final coat finished this afternoon.’

‘It sounds like you’ve had a lot of renovating to do,’ said Clara. ‘It must be hard work.’

‘I enjoy it.’ Marco dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘But it would be nice to have some company. Jude, I haven’t forgotten you said you’d come and help me wield a paintbrush soon.’

‘Happy to.’ She tried not to sound too delighted that he’d asked her and not mentioned the same idea to Clara. ‘I’ll send you a message and we can sort out a day that works.’

‘It’s a deal.’ Marco stepped forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Oh and Clara, let me know when you’ve settled in, I honestly can’t wait to see those Tamara de Lempicka sketches you were telling me about.’ He turned back to Jude. ‘Has Clara told you about her great-grandmother’s brush with art royalty?’

‘She hasn’t.’ Jude was intrigued. ‘Tamara de Lempicka? Wasn’t she famous for art deco paintings?’

‘That’s her,’ said Clara, looking coy. ‘My great-grandmother met her in America at the end of the twenties and they became friends.’

‘Wow,’ said Binnie. ‘And you have some of her sketches?’

Clara nodded. ‘They were passed down to me and I thought Marco, with his art background, might be interested to see them.’

‘Not just any sketches but lost studies for Self-Portrait in a Green Bugatti, her most famous painting.’ Marco was clearly over-excited at the thought of seeing something so creatively important.

‘I hope you’ve got decent home insurance,’ chipped in Joyce. ‘I imagine they’re worth quite a bit.’

Clara looked uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the group who had all gathered around to hear what the excitement was about. ‘They’re properly covered, don’t worry.’

‘Right!’ Marco banged his palms against his thighs. ‘I must let you get on with your ramble. It was lovely to meet you all. Thanks for letting me gatecrash your lunch.’

He waved at the group and then walked up the little gravel path to his front door whilst everyone else carried on down the road and up onto the track that ran next to Jude’s fields.

Even though there was a thick hedge separating the track from Jude’s pregnant ewes, she didn’t trust Rex not to find a gap to squeeze through. Jude decided to keep Pip and Alfie on their leads and was glad that Joyce followed suit without needing further encouragement.

‘Would you like me to take him for a bit?’ Clara gave Rex’s soft ears a stroke and he responded by nuzzling up hard against her leg.

‘My arms are a little sore today actually.’ Joyce was very fast to hand control over to Clara, who tugged Rex gently to her side, speaking softly to him.

By the time they got to the top of the path where they passed the entrance to Jude’s fields, Rex was already pulling less and responding more to Clara.

A little metal kissing gate had recently been installed by the Malvern Hills Trust and once everyone was through, it clicked shut behind them.

‘We can let the dogs off in here.’ Jude unclipped Pip who shot off, delighted to be able to run and play with Rex. When she slipped Alfie’s halter off, he ran over to sniff Hamble but she retreated between Flo’s legs so he gave up and went to join the others.

Jude found herself walking next to Andy as they followed the footpath through the trees.

‘I’ve never been in here before,’ he said.

‘It is a bit hidden away,’ she replied. ‘Most visitors to Malvern stick to the hills, but it’s great for people who come to the farm to camp as they can walk straight out here without getting into their cars.’

‘Binnie mentioned you run a campsite as well as the farm. It sounds quite a fancy one.’ Andy clasped his hands behind his back as he walked.

‘I aimed for the high end, hoping to bring in a decent return.’

‘And is it working?’

‘It’s starting to.’ Jude was never comfortable talking about money. Fortuitously, Clara joined them and as they carried on walking further into the wood they chatted about her imminent move to Malvern End.

The path widened out and they reached a little clearing where a squirrel shot across the carpet of fallen autumn leaves and up a beech tree, closely followed by Rex, who was frustrated not to be able to climb the trunk to follow his prey. With his front two feet braced on the old tree’s knotted root system, he barked up into the naked canopy, his stiff tail pointing straight out behind him.

There was a snap of twigs a little way behind and Jude turned to see another walker following them through the woods. He took one look at Rex and veered off the path to avoid them.

‘Perhaps this would be a good time for a water stop.’ Joyce shrugged the pack off her back and reached inside for her water bottle. She took a deep swig and then stood with one fist propped on her hip, looking around the woodland. ‘Malvern is famous for its trees, you know. Not just the ancient woodlands and the vast variety of species natural to the area, but also the stunning examples of more exotic species that the Victorians brought from all corners of the globe.’ She stopped and took another swig of water.

‘Here we go,’ Andy whispered to Jude, who couldn’t help smiling to herself.

As Joyce launched into a story about Lady Foley and the other great landowners of Victorian Malvern, Jude noticed Andy’s hand surreptitiously graze Clara’s and linger there. Clara didn’t look away from Joyce’s monologue but Jude could see her little finger twitch and imagined the electricity the connection was sending through her. It made Jude think of all the little moments that she and Marco had shared since he’d been back and she found herself longing for him to be standing next to her making her little finger twitch.

Joyce finished her lecture on the trees of Malvern and took another big drink from her bottle before securing it back in her bag. ‘Right then, off we go.’

As the path through the trees widened, Binnie joined Jude, Clara and Andy, and the four of them were able to walk side by side for a while.

‘I can’t believe this is going to be literally right on my doorstep after tomorrow,’ said Clara. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

‘You wait until the spring,’ said Jude. ‘This whole place will be covered in flowers. First the white wood anemones, then the yellow celandines and then bluebells. Thousands of them like a big blue duvet.’

‘It sounds amazing.’ Clara gazed around the woodland, the deciduous trees almost completely bare now, their summer robes having morphed through the wonders of autumn lying spent on the ground.

‘Becka loved watching the seasons changing,’ said Andy. ‘I remember last winter, she called me when it’d snowed up on the hills and we walked up to the saddle by North Hill together. She was like a child, throwing snowballs at me and forcing me to stop and make a snowman right on the very top so he could look down at the town.’

Andy lifted his glasses to wipe something, perhaps a tear, away and Clara squeezed his arm gently.

‘You two were close,’ said Binnie. ‘Had you known each other for long?’

‘Not really. We met when I joined the walking group which was about a year ago now. We just hit it off.’

‘She was one of those people,’ said Clara.

‘I just wish I knew what it was she wanted to tell me.’ Andy pulled a hanky from his pocket and blew his nose. ‘It sounded important and ever since that awful day, I can’t stop wondering if it had something to do with why she died.’

Jude looked over to Andy. Was it now common knowledge that there was a good chance another car had been involved in Becka’s accident? Jude thought about Joyce’s summary of Andy as a teller of stories, someone who perhaps couldn’t be trusted. But writers weren’t necessarily good actors as well and Andy was clearly very upset by Becka’s death.

‘What do you mean?’ Clara looked across in confusion. ‘It was a terrible accident.’

‘Was it?’ Andy’s expression showed that he obviously didn’t think that it was that simple. ‘Becka was an excellent driver. She drove me along Jubilee Drive several times and was completely at ease behind the wheel.’ He scratched his beard with thumb and forefinger. ‘And there’s something else that’s been bothering me. Why didn’t any of us see her? Apart from Joyce, who’d already left, and Phil who must have gone the other way into town, the rest of us drove past the very spot where she left the road.’

‘No,’ said Clara. ‘Phil went that way too.’

Andy scowled through his beard. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. We saw him leave, didn’t we?’ She looked at Binnie and Jude for affirmation.

Andy’s thick eyebrows lowered. ‘What was Phil doing going that way?’

‘What was I doing when?’ Phil, who was walking in front of them, talking to his aunt, Flo and Brian, turned at the sound of his name.

‘Last week, when you left the car park you said you had jobs to do down in the town,’ said Andy.

‘That’s right. I had to pick some bits up from the supermarket and drop some paperwork in to a client.’

‘In that case, why did you go all the way around the hills along Jubilee Drive, instead of just dropping down through Malvern Wells?’

‘What?’ Phil blustered. ‘I don’t remember which way I drove. Why does it matter?’

Andy stopped walking and stared at him. ‘It matters because you were seen going the long way round for some reason which means you might have been driving past when Becka went off the side of the road.’

‘What exactly do you think is the significance in this?’ Joyce demanded. She looked a little red in the face, perhaps as a result of the large lunch and exercise or maybe because she was revving up for another argument.

‘I was just saying to these ladies here that I’m not sure Becka would have been careless enough to drive off the side of a road without someone else lending a hand.’ Andy’s voice was measured.

‘Even if that’s true, what does that have to do with me?’

‘You were there when it happened.’ Andy’s voice was beginning to rise and it seemed unnatural on the usually quiet man.

‘Mate, we were all there – you included. We all drove down that road so why single me out?’ Phil was trying hard to remain cool but his agitation couldn’t have been more obvious and Jude was interested to see how it was going to play out.

‘Because you’re the only one who didn’t have a reason to be on Jubilee Drive, and you are also the only one who is pretending they can’t remember where they were.’ Andy was getting into his stride now. ‘And didn’t you say your car is in the garage at the moment?’

‘Yeah, so?’

‘Handy time to have an MOT, isn’t it? Especially as it now seems they need to keep it in for longer to fix whatever you said was wrong with it.’

‘The suspension.’ Phil’s voice and stare were equally steely. ‘I don’t like where you seem to be going with this.’

‘Then tell us what you were doing driving along Jubilee Drive.’

‘He doesn’t need to say anything to you.’ Joyce was waving her finger furiously at Andy but everyone was looking expectantly at Phil.

He stared at Andy for a moment, weighing up his options, before puffing out a loud breath and rolling his head sideways.

‘Fine. I was going to see Becka, actually. I drove to her house to ask her about a potential business partnership but I saw Aunty Joyce going inside, so I didn’t bother sticking around.’ He turned to his aunt. ‘I didn’t want to say anything to you as I got the impression you wouldn’t have approved.’

Jude watched Joyce’s face for a reaction as she realised that Phil had just given away the fact that his aunt had lied to them about going to Becka’s house that day.

‘Joyce, you told us that you didn’t go inside when you visited Becka. You said you tried the doorbell and then waited in your car.’ Jude looked at Joyce and saw that she had turned very red and was visibly sweating. She said nothing in her defence though, just took another swig of water. Her purpose for being inside Becka’s house when she wasn’t there was definitely intriguing, although didn’t that exclude her from suspicion as far as Becka’s crash went? Because if Joyce had been at Becka’s house, she couldn’t have been on Jubilee Drive.

What about Phil? Was he telling the truth when he said he’d gone that way to see Becka? Jude was sceptical of his explanation of forming a working partnership. At Hampton Court, when Granny Margot had been talking about the relationship between Becka and the Mason family, it had sounded very much as though Phil had questioned Becka’s professionalism. If this was the case, why would he be interested in building a new business with her? It made no sense. And if this wasn’t the real reason he’d been to visit Becka the day she died, then what was it? Had Phil overheard Becka asking Joyce to go round so she could deliver some piece of information and decided to try and stop her? Was it possible that he’d noticed Becka’s car was missing and had turned back to see if he could find her before she got to his aunt?

She kept coming back to the warning that Becka seemed to be giving when she’d argued with Joyce. What had she really meant when she said she wasn’t going to turn a blind eye when something was damaging or wrong? Was she directing this only at Joyce or did it have something to do with Phil as well?

‘Aunt Joyce? Are you feeling okay?’

Jude was pulled from her meandering thoughts by the worry in Phil’s voice. She looked over at Joyce, who was rubbing the sides of her head with her fingertips.

‘I have a crushing headache and I don’t feel too well all of a sudden.’

‘Here.’ Andy took her arm and guided her over to a fallen tree.

Phil untied the waterproof jacket from around his waist and laid it out on the trunk then he helped Andy to gently sit his aunt down. ‘Here,’ he said, taking her water bottle from her bag and holding it out for her.

Joyce took a few small sips and passed it back. ‘I’m very sorry, everyone, I don’t know what’s come over me but I think it might be best if I leave you here to finish the walk whilst I go back to the pub and wait for you.’

‘We’re not going to leave you here,’ said Clara without hesitation. ‘We’ll all go back together, but take your time. Sit there for a while, until you feel ready to walk again.’

Jude was grateful that they hadn’t gone all that far into the woods yet as Joyce really didn’t look very well at all. She started to rock gently backwards and forwards with her head in her hands.

‘Do you want us to get help?’ Jude crouched down next to her and felt her hand, which was cold and clammy.

Joyce squinted towards Jude. ‘I’m sorry but I don’t think I can stand up.’

She looked disorientated and her breathing was coming in laboured, shallow puffs.

Phil crouched down as well and passed Joyce back her water bottle. ‘Here, take some sips of this. You’re having a bit of a funny turn, that’s all.’

Joyce’s face crumpled in discomfort and she clutched her hand to her chest.

‘We need an ambulance.’ Jude looked at Binnie, who already had her phone out.

‘I don’t have any signal here. Does anyone else have a phone that works?’

Whilst they tried to reach the emergency services, Jude turned her attention back to Joyce, who was staring at her with eyes so wide Jude could see the whole of each iris. There was a look of panic in them and her breathing was becoming increasingly difficult. She dropped the water bottle which fell to the ground, spilling its contents across the leaf detritus, and then she clasped Jude’s arm tightly.

‘Look in the summer,’ she gasped.

Jude’s instincts told her that she needed to pacify the frightened woman. ‘I will, I promise,’ she said. ‘In the summer we can both look for whatever you like. For now though, try taking some deep breaths with me.’

Joyce shook her head desperately. ‘No. Please. You must look in the summer.’

‘Okay, I understand.’ Jude, of course, didn’t understand but it seemed important to the distressed woman and she needed to find a way of calming her down.

Joyce grimaced again and let go of Jude’s arm so she could grip her hands across her chest. Then her entire body went rigid for a moment before she started to slump forward. Jude and Phil caught her as she fell and someone put a coat on the ground for them to lay her head on.

All signs of fear and panic left Joyce and her body relaxed as it sank into the softness of the fallen leaves. Her eyes were closed and she looked as though perhaps she’d fallen unconscious.

‘Aunty?’ Phil shook her shoulder to try and wake her.

‘Move away and let Jude help,’ said Binnie.

Jude always kept her first-aid training up to date, farms being as riddled with hidden dangers as they were, and with Joyce showing no sign at all of life she started CPR. What were the numbers she needed to remember? Thirty compressions to two breaths? She knew that the chest compressions were the most important thing so she started there. Thirty deep thrusts into Joyce’s ribs. Then two puffs into her mouth, watching the chest cavity rise.

It was one thing practising in Colwall village hall on a plastic dummy with a monitor to tell her how she was doing and the promise of tea and biscuits when they’d finished; it was another thing altogether kneeling on the ground in the middle of a wood trying to inject life back into a person who she’d just shared lunch with. Worse was doing it with the mounting realisation that her endeavours were almost certainly going to prove fruitless. An aching certainty that nothing she did now was going to change the fact that the woman in front of her was already dead.

12

After the ambulance had driven away from Malvern End, the stunned remnants of the Malvern Roaming and Rambling Society stood numbly at the mouth of the track.

Phil looked broken. ‘I don’t really feel like going back home now.’

Jude really felt for him. To lose someone you loved was a terrible, terrible thing for anyone to deal with. She knew how empty the house was going to feel when Phil went home. She knew the ache he would have when he saw the clothes she’d left in the laundry basket, her favourite snacks in the fridge and the little notes and lists left around the house formed from her handwriting.

‘Most of you have parked at The Lamb so why don’t we head back there and stop off for a drink,’ she suggested to a sombre chorus of agreement from the others.

‘I’m really sorry but I need to get on.’ Binnie was tapping the tips of the fingers on one hand against the nails of the other and Jude could see that she was agitated. ‘I have to work this afternoon.’

‘I’ll walk back to the farm with you,’ Jude offered.

‘No, it’s fine. Stay here with the others.’

Jude caught the look her friend fired at her and tried to decipher it. It was Binnie’s day off so did her sudden need to work mean that she had doubts about the initial diagnosis of a heart attack being the cause of Joyce’s sudden departure from life?

Jude certainly had her own doubts. She’d been on two walks with this group of people and each one had ended in a death. In her mind, that was either incredibly bad luck or a sure sign that something darker was happening. She’d already been convinced that someone had played a hand in Becka’s crash and now here was a second body just a week later. The initial suggestion might well be that Joyce had suffered a heart attack but Jude would wait for the results of the post-mortem before she believed that was the case.

‘Call me when you get back from work,’ said Jude as Binnie waved to the party and headed off up the track, which had fresh tyre marks from where the ambulance had just managed to squeeze its way up.

Jude wanted to follow Binnie through the fields to find out what she knew but she looked at the broken faces of the other walkers and knew that she needed to show her support in the wake of such a terrible incident, and on her patch too, so she led them along the lane to the pub.

‘Hello, you lot.’ Ted waved to them from the bar as they ducked to get through the old doorway. It had emptied out a lot since the lunchtime rush but there were still several tables of locals and walkers enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon. ‘Nice walk? You look like you need a stiff drink. Was it that bad, ey?’

Barbara took one look at the subdued party and read the scene with infinitely more empathy than her husband. She elbowed him into silence. ‘You go and take the big table over by the fire and Ted will throw a couple more logs on it.’

Jude followed the others to the cosy corner where a long table stood with benches on either side, carrying a number of squishy cushions to hunker down into. For once, Rex was quiet and still, subdued at the loss of his mistress and picking up the general air of despair in the rest of the group. Jude deposited Pip and Alfie on the hearth rug and took orders for hot drinks.

Whilst Ted stoked the fire, Jude went up to the bar.

‘Everything okay, love?’ Barbara spoke in hushed tones.

‘Not really,’ Jude admitted.

‘Anything to do with that ambulance I saw driving past at the rate of knots a little while ago?’

‘Joyce collapsed whilst we were on our walk.’ Even as she was saying it, Jude was struggling to believe what had just happened. ‘Looks like she had a heart attack or something like that.’

‘How awful.’ Barbara’s hand went to her throat. ‘Is she—?’

Jude nodded weakly. ‘Before the ambulance even got to us. It was so quick. One minute she was talking to us all about trees and the next—’

The door clattered open and the unmistakable voice of Janet Timms hit Jude squarely in the back of the head. ‘Goodness, what a thing. There’s been a terrible accident in the woods.’

Jude turned around slowly and saw the woman walk in, one of the few people who didn’t have to bend to get through the old door. She was clearly ready to impart the gossip she’d come to share, and sniff around for any new bits to help embellish the story for when she passed it on to the next people she spoke to.

‘Janet, nice to see you,’ said Val Trout, appearing like a guardian angel from the other side of the pub where Mike was sitting, nursing a post-Sunday-lunch pint. ‘Do come and join Mike and me.’

She ushered Janet away from the table of walkers and threw a knowing, sympathetic look over her shoulder towards Jude.

‘Thank you,’ Jude mouthed back gratefully.

‘Mike and Val will keep Lady Grapevine out of your hair for a bit,’ said Barbara. ‘You go and sit with your friends and I’ll bring the drinks over when they’re ready.’

Jude held her credit card out but Barbara pushed it away. ‘They’ll be on the house.’

‘Thanks.’ Jude smiled at the landlady before returning to the table.

She sat down on a stool by the fire and felt the leaden load of the day lying heavily on the assembled walkers. There was so much to talk about, so much grief to share in and shock to work through and yet nobody wanted to be the first to try and find the right words.

The table was still silent when Ted and Barbara brought over two full trays of hot drinks and a plate of flapjacks.

‘There’s a little something for the dogs there too.’ Barbara pointed to a saucer containing a pile of bone-shaped biscuits.

‘Thank you.’ Flo took one and held it under Hamble’s nose. The little dog, who was sitting on her knee, sniffed it before taking it carefully between her teeth.

Jude tossed a biscuit to each of her dogs, who caught them and crunched them up in less than a second. Rex, who’d been lying down with his head on his front paws, was suddenly alert and on his feet, straining at the lead to get to the remainder of the biscuit stash.

‘Hey now,’ Clara said. ‘You won’t get anything until you sit.’

The German shepherd stopped pulling and looked at her.

‘Sit,’ she commanded. And he did. ‘Good boy.’ She held out a biscuit and he lurched for her hand which she whipped away quickly.

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Gentle now. Sit.’

Everyone around the table was captivated as Clara managed to hold Rex’s attention and teach him that the biscuits only came when he was well behaved.

‘You’re so good with him,’ said Phil. ‘He was never like that for my aunt.’

‘It’s just luck,’ said Clara.

‘No, it isn’t. You really have the knack,’ Phil insisted. ‘You don’t want to take him in for me, do you?’

Clara looked horrified at the thought. ‘I’m so sorry, but there’s no way I can. I’m moving house tomorrow and I work full time so he’d be on his own all day.’

Her eyes watered and she looked down into the soft brown face eagerly watching her. She ruffled his ears. ‘I really am sorry. I’d love to have you to stay but I know you’d hate being left on your own.’

Phil glanced around the table and Jude felt as though she knew what was coming before it came.

‘Jude?’ Phil asked. ‘You’ve already got dogs on the farm and you’ve got loads of space. Would you take him in? I just can’t possibly look after him myself, I have absolutely no idea what to do with dogs, and I don’t have time to walk him every day.’

For a fraction of a moment, Jude considered it. She felt so sorry for Rex and she understood Phil’s predicament entirely, but she couldn’t have a dog like that causing chaos on the farm.

‘I’m sorry, Phil, but I can’t risk it.’ She felt a total heel but she couldn’t let her emotions overtake her senses and say yes on a whim. ‘You’ve seen him around sheep and I have around seven hundred pregnant ewes that I need to look out for. I can recommend a brilliant lady who lives in the village. She’s a dog walker and trainer. I reckon with her on board, you’ll get Rex whipped into shape in no time, and she could possibly walk him whilst you’re at work too.’

Phil shook his head and looked downcast, making Jude feel even worse for saying no. ‘I can’t keep him even if someone else is taking him out for walks. He was Aunt Joyce’s dog and we have never seen eye to eye. It would be better for both of us if I drop him at the re-homing centre so he can find a family who will really love him.’

‘I’ll have him,’ said Clara, decisively. ‘But only if this woman Jude knows can walk him for me every day, and I’ll need a few days to unpack and sort the cottage before he comes to live with me.’

‘Really?’ The relief on Phil’s face was obvious.

Clara smiled and stroked Rex’s ears. ‘We can’t let you go to the dogs’ home, can we?’

The discussion over Rex’s future had broken the awful silence and given the group permission to talk again. Jude could hear Flo and Brian chatting to Phil at the far end of the table, offering help in any way they could and doing their best to make sure that he was going to look after himself.

Jude turned to Clara.

‘That was a kind thing to do,’ she said. ‘I know I said I can’t have Rex on the farm, but if you’re ever stuck then he can come and play in the garden with my dogs now and again.’

‘Thanks.’ Clara looked exhausted.

‘Do you need any help tomorrow with the move?’

‘Andy’s taking a day off writing to drive me and my things over here, which is a godsend.’

Jude looked at the writer who had pulled the wool over so many of his readers’ eyes when it came to his background. Did fibbing about a part of your life in order to get ahead make you a bad person? One of Lucy’s friends had ghostwritten a book for a celebrity and then they’d all watched as that celebrity had taken full credit, declaring on primetime television that she had always wanted to write a book and had thoroughly loved the process. Lucy’s friend had been paid a couple of thousand pounds to write a book that someone else was happily passing off as their own work and reaping the royalties. If that was allowed to happen then would it really be such a big deal if readers found out that Andy hadn’t worked in a prison? Would anyone even care? It didn’t seem to be a big enough motive to kill twice in order to keep it secret, and in all other ways he did seem like a very pleasant man.

Andy raised his hand and bowed his head towards Clara. ‘My pleasure. I’m at a really soggy patch of the novel at the moment anyway and I don’t really know how to fix it, so I’d much rather come and help you.’

‘I’m glad to be your distraction.’ Clara blushed as she spoke and tried to hide it by blowing into her cup of tea. ‘I don’t have much stuff to be honest so it shouldn’t take long. Thank you though, Jude.’

‘Well, you know where I am if you need anything.’

Clara rubbed her neck as though she was releasing some knotted tension. ‘It’s been such an awful week, hasn’t it? First Becka and now Joyce. It’s beginning to feel like the rambling society might be cursed.’

Jude had been thinking about the events of the week herself but she hadn’t landed on a curse as her explanation. She was desperate to wrap the afternoon up and head back up to the farm to see if there was any news from Binnie. Taking her phone out, she glanced quickly at the screen but no messages had come in yet.

‘I suppose that will be the end of the Rambling Society.’ Andy’s brow was furrowed as he rubbed at his beard. ‘I can’t imagine there will be much appetite for more walks together after this week. Besides, Joyce was the one who brought us all together.’

‘How did you both get involved in the group?’ Jude asked.

‘I met Becka first and she introduced me to the Rambling Society and Joyce back in the spring.’ Clara looked at Andy. ‘You joined just before me, I think.’

‘It’s been almost a year,’ Andy confirmed. ‘I’d been living here for a while and didn’t really know anyone when I spotted Joyce’s advert in the bookshop and thought it might be fun. It’s been a brilliant way to get away from the desk and make friends.’

Jude saw his eyes glisten with moisture behind his glasses as he looked down into his coffee cup. ‘Sorry. I just can’t believe this has happened,’ he sniffed.

Flo, who was sitting next to Andy, laid a hand on his. ‘Come now,’ she said. ‘We’ve all had such a shock. Let’s hold hands around the table and give each other the comfort we need to get up and carry on.’ She reached across to Phil at the head of the table who looked a little surprised but took Flo’s hand anyway. ‘That’s right. And now you take Brian’s hand.’

There was something deeply moving about this marvellous woman uniting the mismatched group of people in this way, all held together by the parts they played in the Malvern Roaming and Rambling Society and the tragedies they’d shared.

Jude took Clara’s hand on her right and Andy’s on the left to complete the ring.

‘That’s it.’ Flo closed her eyes. ‘I want to take a moment to remember our two dear friends lost to us and to be thankful for the walks we shared together. But I also want to give thanks for the people still here around this table and let the strength that we each have flow through us and help us look after one another as we come to terms with our collective grief.’

Jude felt as though an amen might be in order but everyone else stayed silent and so she did too.

‘Does anyone else want to say something?’ Flo asked.

‘I would just like to add that I don’t want this to be the end of the friendships we’ve made in this group.’ Phil was clearly choked as he spoke but he held it together well. ‘I know Aunty Joyce would want us all to keep rambling and find new paths to walk in her honour, and I think Becka would have wanted the same.’

‘Hear, hear,’ said Brian, gently.

The ring of hands was broken one link at a time as people sat back to finish their drinks.

‘I’m sorry to be the one to break things up but I must go home and finish packing everything up ready for the move.’ Clara stood up and started to wiggle out of the confined space between table and bench.

Jude also stood up and called the dogs out of the way.

‘I’d better head off too.’ She was grateful for the excuse to be able to give Binnie a ring to find out about her sudden urge to go to work on her day off.

That was the signal for the party to break up as the others also prepared to leave. Jude waved to Ted and Barbara on her way out and then to the Trouts, who still had Janet Timms holding court at their table.

Back out in the car park, Jude looked at the assembled cars as the ramblers hugged each other goodbye. Clara’s car was a black hatchback, Joyce’s a navy-blue runabout which Phil would be driving home, Andy was in a black Ford and Flo and Brian had a small, dark grey estate. She thought about the description the woman walking her dogs above Jubilee Drive had given of the car that had possibly been involved in Becka’s crash. It was dark in colour, not a sporty thing and not a 4x4, that was it. And it was a description that matched all four of the cars in front of them.

She couldn’t remember what car Phil had got into in the British Camp car park the weekend before as frustratingly, like the dog walker, Jude didn’t care about what cars people drove. She thought it had been dark in colour too but couldn’t say for certain. Whatever it was, it was now in the garage, perhaps for the MOT as Phil said but maybe also having new dents taken out.

Maybe Binnie would be able to request details of the work carried out on Phil’s car to see if any damage had been incurred that might perhaps be in keeping with pushing another car off the road.

‘Are you walking back, Jude?’ Clara asked. ‘I can give you a lift if you’d like.’

‘Thank you but I’ve got the dogs, and I’m happy walking anyway. It’ll blow away the cobwebs.’

‘Okay then,’ she said. ‘See you soon.’

As the others started to get into their cars, Jude headed back through the village to the row of cottages that marked the beginning of the path. Marco rapped on the window of his cottage as she walked past and she waved back, pointing to the phone that was clasped to her ear to show that she couldn’t stop to chat.

Binnie didn’t answer and Jude left a message asking for her to call when she could. She switched the phone off and slid it back into her pocket.

‘Jude,’ Marco called after her.

She turned round and saw he’d come out of the cottage wearing paint-splattered overalls and brandishing a cutting-in brush.

‘Hey, how’s the painting going?’ she asked.

‘Tediously. I’m having a break if you fancy stopping for a quick cuppa.’

‘It’s been a dreadful day,’ Jude said. ‘I was just going to head home and collapse in front of the telly.’

‘Not a good walk?’

Jude looked at his concerned, lovely face and knew that what she really wanted was to ignore everything else and go in for a cuppa. ‘Not especially,’ she said. ‘Actually it would be nice to come in for a bit, if you’re okay with the dogs too.’

Marco’s face lit up. ‘Of course, as long as we keep them out of the front room where all the wet paint is.’

Jude hadn’t been inside Marco’s cottage for a few weeks and it was amazing to see how much work he’d already done. He pulled the door closed on the room he’d been busy painting and they walked through into the kitchen where he took a slice of cling film and laid it out on the chopping board so that he could wrap up his paintbrush to keep it from drying out.

Jude marvelled at the transformation that had happened in the kitchen. He’d kept all of the old cupboards but had stained them a warm teak colour and set the most beautiful tiles with swirling designs in a variety of greens and teals into the recesses of the doors. The walls were painted a friendly shade of green that reminded Jude of the thirties, and Marco had used a piece of painted glass as a backsplash for the old cooker.

‘It looks brilliant in here,’ Jude said. ‘You work so fast.’

‘I’m impatient, that’s all. When I have a job to do I like to get it done.’ He ran the tap over the original Belfast sink and scrubbed his hands with some sugar soap to get rid of the worst of the pinky/grey paint decorating his fingers.

‘You can let the dogs off in here. There’s no wet paint for them to get stuck to.’

Alfie and Pip were glad to be released so they could sniff every inch of the floor to familiarise themselves with the new room.

Jude sat at a battered old table that had been put in the centre of the room surrounded by four chairs that didn’t match each other and yet seemed to belong still.

‘What do you think of my new furniture?’ Marco asked. ‘My first ever table and chairs, and all for thirty pounds from the junk shop.’

‘You have an eye for a bargain.’ Jude smiled.

Marco went to flick the kettle on. ‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Actually, you don’t have anything a little bit stronger, do you?’ Jude had had her fill of hot drinks for the day.

‘As it happens, I have a couple of bottles of Westons in the fridge.’ Marco pulled one of the bottles out and took two glasses from the cupboard.

‘You’re officially a true Herefordian now,’ said Jude, accepting the glass he offered her. ‘Cheers.’

‘Cheers.’ Marco clinked his glass against hers. ‘Thank you for inviting me along for lunch today, the walking group seemed really nice, especially Flo and Keith. What a sweet couple!’

‘Flo and Brian,’ Jude corrected. ‘And yes, they’re what Noah would call salt of the earth.’

‘Oh God, I thought I heard his wife call him Keith and I’m sure that’s what I called him.’

‘I don’t think he’d really mind what you called him, to be honest.’ She sighed.

‘Jude, what’s happened?’ Marco looked at her earnestly. ‘You really don’t seem yourself.’

Jude took a deep slug of the ice-cold cider and let it sink into her stomach where the bubbles burst. Then she took a deep breath in. ‘Joyce died on the walk,’ she said.

Marco’s eyes opened wide as he set his own glass down on the table and looked at her in horror. ‘Oh my goodness.’

Jude only gave Marco the bare bones of Joyce’s sad demise, leaving out her thoughts on how accurate the diagnosis of a heart attack actually was. At her request, they then went on to talk about other things and the second bottle of cider was opened. Warm in Marco’s company, Jude was beginning to feel the horror of the day subside a little when her phone rang.

‘Sorry, I need to get this.’ She flicked the phone on. ‘Hi, Binnie. You rushed off in a hurry.’

‘I didn’t buy the heart attack thing,’ Binnie replied. ‘Not when we know Joyce has been involved in some sort of investigative work alongside Becka, who also died recently.’

‘Exactly my thoughts,’ said Jude. ‘Did you find anything?’

‘Looking at how Joyce died, my mind obviously turned to poisons, most specifically cyanide as her symptoms were consistent. Confusion, difficulty breathing, chest pain. I also know that in these cases, the sooner the body is tested the better, so I wanted to make sure no time was wasted.’

‘And?’ Jude felt as though she already knew the answer.

‘Cyanide is a very quick and easy test to carry out with instant results and I’m sure you won’t be at all surprised to hear that it was positive. Joyce Mason didn’t die of a heart attack, she was poisoned.’

Jude heard the words and, although she’d expected something like this to be the case, it still made her mouth instantly dry and the little hairs stand to attention on the backs of her hands. It was definite then. Someone had murdered Joyce, cementing the idea in Jude’s mind that Becka therefore had also been murdered.

But perhaps the most chilling thing was that she’d almost certainly shared a lunch table with the killer, and they might not have finished their killing spree yet.

13

Jude put the phone down on Marco’s kitchen table and stared at it.

‘I’m really sorry,’ Marco said. ‘Your phone was on quite loud and I couldn’t help overhearing what Binnie said.’

Jude looked up at him. ‘Keep it under your hat,’ she said. ‘I’m never quite sure how much of what Binnie tells me should really be shared.’

Marco tapped the side of his nose to show the secret was not going anywhere outside of his kitchen. ‘Cyanide though. How nasty.’ He looked at her with deep concern. ‘You told me you gave her CPR.’

Jude nodded, the implication dawning on her. ‘I can’t have picked up enough from her lips to be in any danger myself. Can I?’

She opened the search app on her phone and typed should you give CPR to someone who has been poisoned into the search bar. It was pretty inconclusive and was based on the fact that you knew about the poisoning before you started mouth to mouth, so she tried how much cyanide would be fatal? The first few results were for suicide support and then she found what she was looking for.

‘I’d need about a teaspoon of cyanide to kill me,’ she said with relief. ‘I think I’ll be fine even if there were traces on her mouth still.’

‘Do you think someone slipped it into her food when we were at the pub?’ Marco was stroking Alfie, who’d come to rest his head on Marco’s knee. ‘Who would have had the opportunity?’

Jude thought about it. ‘It would have been hard to do without anyone spotting them. Almost impossible, in fact.’

‘I suppose so.’ Marco furrowed his brow in thought. ‘In her drink then?’

Jude had seen the waiter pouring Joyce’s wine. She’d only had the one glass before moving on to water, taken from jugs placed in the centre of the table.

‘Nobody would have been able to spike her drink,’ she said.

Damien had been sniffing around but he hadn’t been anywhere near her food. Even if he’d somehow seen it coming from the kitchen and miraculously known which plate was going to Joyce, he wouldn’t have been able to poison her food whilst it was in the hands of the waiter.

‘How long does cyanide poisoning take to kick in, do you reckon?’ It was Marco’s turn to use the search engine on his phone to do a little bit of amateur fact finding. ‘Not hugely helpful as it says everything from a few seconds to a couple of days. It does say that cyanide has a bitter almond taste when ingested though, so surely she’d have noticed if it was in her drink at lunch?’

‘No,’ said Jude, remembering Joyce’s reaction to the milk that Phil swore was off in his tea on the first walk they’d shared. ‘She lost her sense of taste when she had Covid. Everyone on the walk knew this too.’

If the poison hadn’t been administered whilst they were at the pub then there was surely only one other way it could have been given. ‘It must have been in her water bottle,’ Jude said. ‘Joyce had a policy that nobody shared water when out walking so there would have been no worries about poisoning the wrong person. It would have been much easier to spike too as we hung all our bags up on the pegs on the wall outside the toilets. Anyone walking past could have surreptitiously taken Joyce’s bottle out of the side pocket where she kept it. They could have taken it into the loo with them, added the cyanide in the privacy of a toilet cubicle and then replaced it on the way out.’

As she said it, Jude knew she had to be right and it also put Damien back in the frame as he had definitely gone to the loo before he’d left the pub.

Jude sent Binnie a quick text.

I’m sure you have already but suggest you test Joyce’s water bottle. I think someone took it from the peg outside pub toilets and spiked it in the loo. Joyce made us all go before the walk so could be anyone. J x

‘How would anyone be able to get hold of cyanide in the first place?’ Marco asked.

‘Funnily enough, I have no idea.’ Jude shrugged. ‘I know there are traces in things like apple pips and almonds but I reckon you’d need a lot of those to make enough poison to kill someone.’ She slumped onto the table. ‘I can’t believe this is happening again.’

Marco draped a reassuring arm around her shoulders and rested his head gently on hers. ‘You’ve had your share of dramas, haven’t you?’

Jude felt comforted by his closeness. He wasn’t Adam and for a long time that had been the biggest limiting factor that stopped her from tipping their friendship over into something more. There was never going to be a replacement for Adam, but was it possible to have something else instead? A second chance at building a relationship that might give her some of the things she’d had with her husband? Sitting at Marco’s paint-splattered table in the beautifully quirky kitchen that matched him so perfectly, she craved the support that he could give her and the feeling that she was part of something bigger than herself.

She put her hand onto his arm and allowed herself to nestle into his warmth a little more. It wasn’t the day to be trying to work out what she wanted from him but in that moment she was grateful to have Marco in her life.

The following morning, Jude didn’t feel like getting out of bed. She’d stayed with Marco to finish off the rest of the cider and then he’d decided that she needed to do something to take her mind off Joyce and the rest of the Ramblers so he’d taken her back to The Lamb for a few rounds of dominoes over a pint or two of Wye Valley bitter.

It had been the perfect distraction but Jude regretted it as soon as she peeled her blotting-paper eyelids open and stared at the blinking numbers of her bedside clock.

She should have been up for an hour already. She should have been down to the paddock to let the Runner ducks out for their morning dip and make sure Pancake and the other residents were fed and happy. The hens needed to be let out and the eggs collected. The hedge cutter was still attached to the tractor ready for her to finish the job she’d started the day before. And she had planned on doing more sheep training with Alfie, who was showing great potential with the unflappable Hebridean sheep Noah had brought in to train the two youngest farm dogs on.

Alfie was the first dog she’d ever trained to run with sheep and she was learning with him. She’d resisted Noah for so long when he’d suggested giving sheepdog training a go, but Jude had been wonderfully surprised by just how quickly she’d taken to it. Alfie was boisterous and energetic which she’d seen as a sign he would be difficult to focus and engage in a meaningful way. Yet when he was out with the sheep he was keen to learn and show his mistress what he could do – in return for plenty of praise and the occasional piece of dried liver.

Jude loved working with him but that morning even time with her dogs wasn’t enough to drag her from her bed.

There was a gentle tap on the door and Lucy poked her head around.

‘I’ve brought you a cup of tea.’

Jude shifted a little so that she was sitting up more. ‘Thanks,’ she croaked.

Lucy came in and put the mug on the bedside table before perching on the edge of her bed.

‘How’s the head?’ Lucy’s face was a picture of concern but Jude knew her well enough to spot the tiny trace of an amused smirk behind it.

‘My head is fine, thank you. I just need a moment to prepare for the day.’

‘Nice time at the pub?’ There was that shadow of a smirk again.

‘It was a good way to forget the rest of the day.’

‘I could see that when I came to pick you up.’ The smirk had now grown and become a full-sized grin. ‘You and Marco seemed to be very cosy at your little table for two, tucked away in the corner. I was worried I’d find you all gloomy and distressed after the awful day you’d had but not a bit of it. You were giggling like a couple of school kids.’

‘Marco thought I could do with something to take my mind off Joyce and Becka.’ Jude knew she didn’t have to justify her choices and that Lucy was only stirring in the way siblings are programmed to do, and yet she couldn’t help defending herself. ‘We only had a couple of pints and we weren’t giggling like school kids, you just happened to come in when I found the double six domino under a beer mat that we’d spent the whole evening thinking was lost.’

‘Sounds absolutely hysterical.’ Lucy’s sarcasm was accompanied by a gentle punch on Jude’s arm.

‘It was actually really funny in the context of the evening.’ Jude’s head had started to pound from the effort of sitting upright and she was in no mood for her sister’s banter. She rubbed her temples to try and ease the throbbing. ‘Thank you for the tea, but shouldn’t you be leaving for work?’

‘Hint taken.’ Lucy gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and stood up. ‘Noah said to tell you he’s done the field checks and let the hens out. He’s on his way down to the paddock too so all the immediate jobs are done. Why don’t you have a lie-in?’

‘That’s really kind of him,’ said Jude, ‘but I can’t laze around in my bed when there are so many other things that need doing.’

‘Of course you can.’ All signs of jest had gone from Lucy and she was looking at Jude with a serious expression. ‘You hardly ever take a proper break to look after yourself and I’d say that this morning you need one. Even just another hour or two before you plough on with being Superwoman.’

Jude sighed. Her head did ache, partly from the excessive amounts of beer and cider drunk the night before but mainly from the fear and exhaustion of knowing that murder had once more come to her beloved village and she was yet again mixed up in it all.

‘Perhaps just an hour then,’ she said.

Lucy took a blister pack of paracetamol from the pocket of her carer’s uniform and laid it next to the mug of tea. ‘I had a feeling you might need these. And promise me you’ll have a proper breakfast before you even think about stepping out of the house.’

‘Promise.’ Jude held up two fingers in the old Brownie Guide salute.

Lucy blew her a kiss from the door of the bedroom and then gently closed it behind her. Jude popped two tablets from the paracetamol pack and put them in her mouth, washing them down with a glug of tea that was perhaps just one or two degrees too hot and it numbed the roof of her mouth. She rested her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes again, allowing the soft downy stuffing to cushion her as she felt the throbbing start to ease. Jude drifted into a state of subconsciousness and wallowed there for a little while, reliving the events of the day before. Joyce’s collapse and her fruitless attempts at CPR whilst they waited for the paramedics to arrive. The feeling of her arms getting weaker and having to ask Andy to take over whilst she continued with the rescue breaths.

Then her mind turned to the moment just before Joyce collapsed, when she’d first complained of the sudden headache, closely followed by a difficulty breathing and a state of confusion. She’d been fixated on telling Jude something which made no sense at all. Something about looking in the summer. Garbled nonsense from someone whose brain was being affected by poison.

Jude opened her eyes again, suddenly alert and awake. She’d assumed this had just been a confused mumbling, but what if it was actually something more? Joyce had certainly been desperate for Jude to understand and only relaxed when she pretended that she had.

If it meant something, then what? Look in the summer. It was far too cryptic for Jude to understand and yet she was suddenly certain that it was a vital clue that Joyce had given her when she realised she was dying.

Was it something to do with the investigations that she and Becka had been carrying out? Jude knew that the police would be going through Joyce’s home and possessions now that the true cause of her death had been discovered. What would they find?

Jude’s brain was now firing and sleep was out of the question. She was too twitchy to even stay in bed so she got up and threw on the work trousers, shirt and fleece from the day before and went downstairs to tackle the world.

Jude had promised to collect Sebbie from school and organised her farm jobs so that she would finish hedge cutting down in the far field, closest to the village. Sebbie adored driving back over the fields in the cab of Maz the Massey Ferguson and it didn’t matter how many times he looked through the same windows at the same fields, he always seemed to find something new to get excited about.

As she drove along the hedgerows, guiding the cutter across the sides of the hedges but leaving the tops to grow taller than usual for more shelter and shade, Jude was intent on her own thoughts.

There was now no doubt that a murderer was once more on the loose in her neighbourhood. Jude was certain they’d struck twice, unquestionably bringing death to the woods behind Malvern Farm but also making the accident on Jubilee Drive now impossible for anyone to overlook. In the case of multiple bodies, finding out what linked them was a good place to begin any investigation. Damien seemed like the most obvious suspect but Jude had her doubts about someone as reactive as him choosing to use poison. Whilst she could imagine him using his fists, a gun or even a car to end someone’s life, poison seemed somehow too gentle for Damien.

The walking group was a clear link and therefore, as far as Jude was concerned, everyone in the group was automatically on the list of suspects. This was something that made her feel nauseous as she thought back to the moment when the poison had started to take effect. If it was one of the walkers who had added it to Joyce’s water bottle that meant they’d stood there to watch as Jude had desperately tried to keep her alive. Murders fell into many categories but a premeditated act where the killer could stand back and watch the horrific effects of their actions unfold seemed particularly dark and deeply personal.

But there was something else that could potentially either widen or shrink the net of suspects – the list of investigations the two deceased women had been working on together. If they could find details of these cases there was every chance this would throw up plenty of interesting nuggets and perhaps even point directly at one person in particular.

Phil kept leaping to the front of Jude’s mind. He’d been shifty about which way he’d driven after the first walk and his car was still in the garage. Jude hadn’t believed him for a moment when he’d said he’d been interested in talking to Becka about a business proposal, so what had he been doing there? His business had gone down the pan thanks to some fraudulent activity that had so far only taken his partner down with it. Had Becka uncovered something that could implicate more people? And then there was the matter of his own current situation. At a time when Phil probably expected to be thriving and enjoying an exuberant city life, he was back home living with an aunt who was pretty hard going. Money was clearly important to him. Would he inherit from Joyce? Was that a reason to kill?

Or was it Andy, trying desperately to stop the secret coming to light that perhaps he thought might finish his writing career?

These men had reasons to kill and yet Jude had liked them both, unlike the unpalatable Damien, who already had a record of ABH and had shown himself to be volatile and dangerous. But that only brought her back to the fact that poisoning was not a volatile choice of murder weapon.

And then there was the mystery of the woman who had called first Frank and then Damien to tell them the whereabouts of the ramblers. How did she fit into the jigsaw?

The sound of the cutter blades chewing at the branches of the hedgerow accompanied her thoughts as she drove the tractor around the periphery of the final field.

The idea that there was deep importance to Joyce’s last words – Look in the summer – had cemented itself and she scratched around her brain thinking of different things that this could mean, seeing as summer had well and truly passed for the year.

‘Summer, summer, summer,’ Jude muttered to herself. ‘Summer what? Summer house, summer holidays, summer clothes?’

Were any of these likely hiding places for whatever it was that Joyce had wanted Jude to find? Jude tried to picture the back garden she’d seen through Joyce’s kitchen window. Had there been a summer house there? She couldn’t remember but it was definitely the sort of thing that would have been right at home in the neatly manicured, ridiculously twee garden. It was worth another look at some point so she decided to pay Phil a visit under the pretence of checking how he was getting on. Even if there was no summer house, maybe there was something else that could fall into the summer category. Maybe photos of summer holidays on the walls or… or what? There were so many possibilities that realistically she had no idea where to start. She could hardly go snooping around, pretending to need the loo like they did in the movies and then rootle in every drawer and cupboard in the hope of finding it. And what exactly was it anyway?

She would go round, of course she would. It was an itch that had to be scratched. And maybe she would find something, or maybe Phil would say something that would help her understand more about the relationship he had with his aunt’s money.

Jude looked out of the window of the cab and realised that she’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t noticed she’d done a full loop of the field and was starting to re-trim an area of hedgerow that had already been finished. She switched off the cutter and pulled away from the hedge, then turned the key to stop the engine. Maz juddered into silence. Jude sat in the cab, the stillness of the moment more pronounced because it came after the clatter and rumble of the past couple of hours’ work.

Phil, Andy, Clara, Flo, Brian. The five remaining members of the Malvern Roaming and Rambling Society trooped in front of her mind’s eye and lined up for inspection. They all had the means to run Becka off the road and to add cyanide to Joyce’s water, as had Damien, but how many of them had big enough motives? Jude knew that this was just a surface glance. What secrets could they be hiding beneath their waterproof jackets and rucksacks? And were there more suspects still to step forward who had nothing to do with the walking group but were mixed up in whatever Becka and Joyce had been investigating?

Jude looked at her watch. She’d been faster than she’d anticipated and was an hour too early to collect Sebbie from school. It hardly seemed worth driving Maz back to the farm only to walk back over the fields. Besides, she knew how much Sebbie loved a tractor ride. Without thinking too much about it, Jude got out of the cab, slammed the door shut and headed for Marco’s cottage.

14

There was no answer when Jude knocked on the door of Marco’s cottage and when she listened through the front door all seemed quiet. She tried calling but the phone rang out without being answered.

A van was parked a couple of doors down outside Granny Margot’s old cottage with Brookhire emblazoned across the bonnet, reminding Jude that it was moving day for Clara. Jude decided to knock on her door, welcome her to the village and see if there was anything she could do to help.

It felt a little strange opening the front gate of the cottage Jude knew so well, and walking up to the front door after everything that had happened on the other side of it. There were around three hundred years of history wrapped up in the thick granite of the walls and the more distressing chapter they had witnessed in recent times was exactly that – just another chapter. It was time for Clara to breathe life into the next era and Jude hoped that it would be a happier one than the last.

She knocked on the door. There was no answer but then the sound of laughter drifted around to meet her from behind the cottage. Clara’s was at the end of the terrace and there was a gate at the side that led into the back garden which was clearly where Clara and Andy were. Jude followed the sound down the passage that opened up into the back garden where not only Clara and Andy but also Marco were sitting on the wooden garden chairs, enjoying bottles of lager in the sunshine.

‘Jude!’ Clara looked delighted to see her and sprang out of her chair to welcome her to the party. ‘It’s great to see you. Andy brought beer and snacks to celebrate moving day. Come and join us.’

‘You’ve officially moved in then?’ Jude accepted the beer with a nod of thanks and went to sit in the spare chair next to Marco.

‘Everything is in the house and most of it is out of the boxes, even if it isn’t properly put away yet.’ Clara sat down on Jude’s other side and passed her a bowl of crisps. ‘I’m not much of a hoarder so I don’t have masses of stuff, which made it easier.’

‘And I suppose you didn’t have any furniture to move as you’re renting fully furnished, so that must have made a difference,’ said Jude.

Clara looked over her shoulder through the open door that led into the kitchen. ‘It’s perfect for me.’

‘Well, welcome to Malvern End.’ Jude raised the little green bottle and clinked it against Clara’s. ‘You had a good day for it.’

‘I’ve been so lucky, and Andy has been brilliant.’ Clara looked at him and he smiled back. ‘He was there with the van at eight this morning to get everything loaded up and has spent the day helping me get everything sorted this end. All we’ve got to do now is throw the packing boxes back into the van so we can take them to the tip before the van has to be returned.’

‘You do work quickly,’ Jude said. ‘And then your dodgy neighbour turned up just as the work was done and the beer was out, I shouldn’t wonder.’ She elbowed Marco, who was sitting in paint-splattered clothes with one foot propped up on the opposite knee. He raised his hand in the air defensively.

‘Who am I to turn down a beer with a neighbour when asked?’ he grinned. ‘It would have been rude not to accept.’

‘I’ll remember to tell Janet Timms that you’re partial to a neighbourly drink then.’

Marco’s grin froze and he opened his eyes in mock horror. ‘You wouldn’t!’

‘It would be rude not to,’ Jude laughed.

‘We’ve already met Janet.’ Andy took a swig from his beer bottle and cast his eyes skywards. ‘She’s quite the force of nature, isn’t she?’

‘That she is.’ Jude had always preferred to avoid the nosiest member of the Malvern End community. ‘How long did it take her to come and see what was going on?’

‘The curtains were twitching as we pulled up with the van,’ said Andy, ‘and she was out of the front door before we’d got the first boxes onto the sack truck.’

There was a ping from inside the kitchen and Clara stood up. ‘That’ll be the pizzas,’ she said. ‘Andy even thought of bringing lunch with him.’

‘There’s plenty to go around,’ said Andy.

Marco also stood. ‘I’ll help you.’ He followed Clara into the kitchen.

‘Well done,’ Jude said to Andy. ‘It could have been a really difficult day for her after everything that’s happened recently, but it seems like you’ve gone all out to make it as easy as possible.’

Andy took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. ‘It’s been tough on all of us. Clara is putting on a brave face but she looked awful when I took the van over this morning. I don’t think she got any sleep last night.’

‘I’m not surprised. Yesterday was such a shock, especially after Becka only a week ago.’

Andy shook his head sadly. ‘It’s so awful. Becka’s family have been told they can’t even organise a funeral yet and we’ve all been asked to go to the police station to make formal statements and answer more questions.’

‘It’s pretty standard in these situations,’ said Jude. ‘I’ve got to go and make one too.’

‘Maybe, but I’ve always said Becka’s crash doesn’t feel right and I still don’t think she would’ve just come off the road like that,’ said Andy.

Jude remembered his outburst on the last walk they’d shared together when he’d as good as blamed Phil for running her through the barrier to her death.

‘There are definitely two things that I’d like to know,’ Jude said. ‘What it was Becka wanted to talk to you and Joyce about, and what happened to her in those missing thirty minutes or so between leaving us at British Camp and crashing her car on Jubilee Drive.’

Andy looked at the beer bottle in his hand as he methodically peeled off the label in little ribbons.

‘Has Binnie said anything to you about it?’ he asked. ‘It’s just you’re friends so I wondered if you know more than the rest of us.’

‘No, nothing more than you.’ Jude hoped her face wouldn’t betray her lie. ‘With two deaths so close together, I expect they want to make sure they’ve covered every angle.’

Andy stared at her closely. ‘Do you think Joyce’s death might not be natural?’

‘I really don’t know.’ Jude realised that Binnie obviously hadn’t told the others about the cyanide yet. They were going to get a nasty shock when they found out and would no doubt come to the same conclusions she had. If Joyce’s death was murder then this gave enormous weight to the possibility of Becka’s also being so. And with both victims closely linked through the walking group and both deaths happening on organised rambles, this would not only make every one of the walkers suspects but also potential future victims.

It was a sobering thought and one that Jude was glad to have interrupted as Marco and Clara returned with two enormous pizzas, garlic bread and a tin foil container of readymade wedges which they put down on the garden table.

‘Grab some kitchen paper and help yourselves.’ Clara took the roll from under her arm and ripped off a sheet for herself before passing it around to the others.

‘Thank you,’ said Jude. ‘I can’t believe you’re catering for us when you only moved in a few hours ago.’

‘All Andy.’ Clara looked at him in the same adoring way Jude had noticed many times before and she considered again what a wonderful couple they would make.

‘I can’t believe you’ve got a genuine Tamara de Lempicka painting hanging in your house.’ Marco looked as though he had just bumped into Father Christmas, he was so flushed with disbelief and awe. ‘I knew you had the sketches, which I’m still dying to see when you’ve had a chance to unpack them, but you didn’t mention the oil painting. Jude, you should go and take a look, it’s incredible.’

Jude didn’t quite know what to say in the face of such enthusiasm around a subject she knew very little about.

‘It sounds wonderful. And it was gifted to you by your great-grandmother – is that right?’

‘Yes. In fact, the painting is a portrait of her. She was living in Pittsburgh when Tamara went over in 1929 to set up her exhibition at the Carnegie Institute. Whilst there she was commissioned to paint the portrait of the fiancée of a rich oilman, who happened to be my great-granny’s good friend.’

‘And that’s how she got to meet Tamara de Lempicka.’ Marco was clearly captivated.

‘Family rumour is that Great-Granny and Tamara were more than just friends for a while, but we’ll never know for sure. But she obviously liked her enough to paint her portrait which she gifted her along with a couple of sketches she’d done that Great-Granny had admired.’

‘Including the one of her Self-Portrait in a Green Bugatti.’ Marco was practically salivating at the thought of seeing these gems.

‘It was the year she’d been commissioned to paint it for the cover of a German fashion magazine. She couldn’t have had any idea of the magnitude of importance that particular painting would end up having.’

Jude, feeling decidedly uncultured, took out her phone and searched for the painting that was causing so much excitement. When it popped up on her screen she was glad to see that it was one she recognised at least, a stylish picture of a striking and confident woman wearing a driving helmet behind the wheel of, unsurprisingly, a green sports car.

‘The funny thing is that she never even drove a green Bugatti,’ said Marco. ‘She had a little yellow Renault which was stolen when she was living in Paris.’

‘I know!’ Clara giggled along with Marco, and Jude was annoyed at herself for the peripheral feeling it gave her.

‘Have you ever had them valued?’ she asked. ‘Joyce is right, it does seem precarious having something like that just hanging on your wall.’

‘Not many people know about them,’ said Clara. ‘And to be honest, who in their right mind would look for a painting like that in a cottage like this?’ She took a swig from her beer bottle. ‘The cottage doesn’t look like it’d be worth anyone breaking into, and even if some chancer did then they wouldn’t suspect that the painting on the wall was worth more than the house it was hanging in.’

Jude choked on the pizza she’d just put in her mouth. ‘It’s really worth that much?’

Clara nodded. ‘I know most people would tell me to sell it, but I just can’t. It’s the family connection, you see, and I don’t want to be the one who lets it go. Besides, I’ve got everything I need and I’d rather have the painting on my wall than a number in a bank account. But please don’t tell anyone else. I like to pretend that it’s not worth a bean, it seems safer.’

‘Then definitely don’t let Janet Timms see it,’ Jude warned.

‘I won’t. Now please, eat up. There’s loads to go around.’

Whilst the others tucked in, Jude noticed that Clara held back, only nibbling the end of a potato wedge as she stared thoughtfully at a spot somewhere in the distance.

‘Are you not hungry?’ Jude asked.

Clara blinked and looked at the half-eaten wedge in her hand as though she was surprised to see it there.

‘I was miles away,’ she said quietly. ‘I suppose it just seems wrong to be out here drinking beer and laughing in the sunshine after everything that’s happened.’

‘I can understand that,’ said Jude. ‘Especially as it’s so fresh and raw in your mind. But you should never feel guilty about leaving your grief at the door for a little while and enjoying the feeling of being alive. It doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten those you’ve lost in any way, and it is an essential part of coping and carrying on.’

‘It sounds like this is advice that comes from experience.’ Clara looked at her earnestly and Jude gave a small nod.

‘And I can tell you that it does get easier over time. Such a cliché but it’s true.’

‘It’ll be easier once we get these police statements out of the way.’ Andy looked at his watch. ‘We’ve got another couple of hours to wait for that though. We’re due at the station at four.’

Clara sighed deeply, stretched over and dropped her rejected wedge on the table. ‘I never thought I’d ever see the inside of a police station. Do you think it’s just because two friends died so close together or are they looking for signs of foul play, do you think?’

Jude reflexively glanced at Andy, who looked as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, something that Clara obviously also clocked.

‘You still think Becka was deliberately forced off the road, don’t you?’ she said. ‘And Joyce? Do you think it wasn’t a heart attack after all?’

‘Let’s not jump the gun.’ Andy’s voice was calm and sensible. ‘We’ll know more once we’ve been in but I suspect this is going to take a while to clear up so we just have to take it a step at a time.’

‘I know,’ said Clara. ‘The whole thing is just so awful anyway, but what if there is someone out there who wanted to kill Becka and Joyce deliberately? What if they haven’t finished with our group yet?’

Her features had taken on a slightly wild look and Jude wanted to console her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, but of course she couldn’t. Because she didn’t know what the outcome of this was going to be any more than Clara did.

‘Come on, Clara,’ Andy pleaded. ‘There’s no point in diving down that particular rabbit hole as it will only lead to a very dark place. Like I said, one step at a time.’ He stood up and moved around to where Clara was sitting so that he could bend down and take her hands in his. ‘You’ve got nothing to worry about. We’ll get through this together. Okay?’

Clara looked like a young child being comforted by her parents, relieved to pass on her worries and fears to someone else, someone who seemed to be in more control of the situation. ‘Okay,’ she said.

After that, the party didn’t quite return to the jolly atmosphere Jude had witnessed when she arrived. Ten minutes before Sebbie was due to be released from school, Jude stood up and gathered up all the rubbish to take inside.

In the kitchen, as she lined up the four stubby beer bottles on the counter ready to be recycled, she heard someone else come in and turned to find Clara.

‘I’m sorry I lost it back then,’ Clara said. ‘I’m not really coping too well at the moment.’

‘Completely understandable.’ Jude didn’t know Clara well enough to know if she was the sort who liked hugs or not so she just patted her on the shoulder instead. ‘I’m glad you and Andy have got each other to lean on.’

‘He is a brilliant listener and I do feel as though I can tell him absolutely anything, but he’s grieving too and I don’t want to add my pain to his.’

‘I can understand that, but don’t underestimate the power of sharing your grief to help you both process it.’ Jude spoke from a place of experience, having bottled up her own sadness many times. ‘And don’t forget you can pop over to the farm any time you like. The door’s always open and the kettle is usually on.’

‘Thank you.’ Clara looked twitchy, as though there was more she wanted to say.

‘Something else on your mind?’ Jude asked.

‘Actually, there is something I wouldn’t mind running past you,’ Clara said.

Jude propped herself against the kitchen counter. ‘Okay.’

Clara went over to the kitchen table to retrieve the handbag that was hanging over one of the chairs. She unzipped it and took out an external hard drive.

‘This was Becka’s. She brought it around to my house a week or so before she died and asked me to keep it safe for her. She said it contained things that could get her into a lot of trouble if it ended up in the wrong hands.’

Instantly, Jude was on high alert. ‘Have you looked at the files on there?’

Clara looked horrified. ‘Gosh, no! That would have been a huge breach of privacy. She obviously wanted whatever’s on there to be kept safe and for some reason she didn’t think her house was safe enough. It must be important, don’t you think?’

Jude certainly did think it was very interesting that Becka had chosen to safeguard the hard drive just a week before she’d died. Perhaps its contents would shed some light on to whatever it was that she wanted to talk to Joyce and Andy about.

‘She must have had her reasons to leave it with you,’ Jude said.

‘I can’t stop thinking about what Andy said, about Becka not being reckless enough to drive off the edge of the road like that. And with Joyce gone too… What if he’s right? What if someone wanted them dead and, if that’s the case, what if there’s something on here that might give us a reason as to why?’

‘Are you going to take it this afternoon when you go for your police interview?’

‘I know I should.’ Clara rubbed the centre of her forehead as though trying to make an impossible decision. ‘I just worry that there might be evidence on there that shows Phil was right and she wasn’t as scrupulous with her clients’ money as we all thought.’

‘And you don’t want to be the person who tarnishes her memory by uncovering anything dodgy?’

‘Exactly that. And if Becka’s accident really was just that – an accident – then it will all be for nothing anyway.’

Jude thought for a moment.

‘If you like, you can give it to me and I can pass it on to Binnie. She can make the decision for you.’

Clara hesitated. ‘But she’d have to pass anything she found on to the police anyway, wouldn’t she?’

‘If it was important then yes, but I think we both know that this isn’t our decision to make. Binnie is the fairest and most level-headed person I know. She’ll be able to look objectively at whatever is on there and work out the best course of action.’

‘You’re right.’ Clara looked anxious as she handed over the hard drive. ‘And I suppose if this does become a murder investigation then the police will need as much evidence as possible to try and solve it.’

‘It’s the right thing to do,’ Jude agreed. ‘As soon as I get back to the farm, I’ll give her a ring and tell her I’ve got it.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Everything all right in here?’ Marco asked as he came into the kitchen. ‘Have you seen the painting?’

‘I was just saying goodbye to Clara, actually.’ Jude slipped the hard drive into her pocket. ‘But I would love to see your great-granny’s painting first, if that’s okay?’

‘Of course.’ Clara smiled. ‘It’s in the sitting room.’

Jude and Marco followed Clara into the room at the front of the house and there, hanging on a patch of wall protected from the sun and prying eyes by the chimney breast, was a stunning painting of a woman with shiny chestnut curls. She was lying on a sofa fast asleep, a red silk sheet draped over her to hide her modesty though still showing off every line and curve of her body.

‘I don’t know much about these things,’ Jude admitted. ‘But it is absolutely beautiful and I can see why you’d be reluctant to sell it.’

‘One day, I might put the sketches on the market,’ she said. ‘I think I’d be daft not to, but Great-Granny belongs with her family.’

‘She certainly looks comfortable on your wall there,’ said Marco.

Jude looked at her watch. ‘Oh, crap, I really have to be going. I’m going to be late for Sebbie.’

‘Let’s catch up soon,’ said Clara. ‘Perhaps a dog walk once Rex has moved in?’

‘I’d love that,’ said Jude. ‘And I hope it goes well this afternoon when you go in to give your statement.’

‘Thanks,’ said Clara. ‘I’ll just be glad when it’s all over and we can be left alone to remember our friends in peace.’

Jude nodded in sympathy, wondering how long a wait Clara and the others would have before that happened. Murder cases could drag on for a very long time and she had a feeling there was going to be more hurt and upset to come before there was any chance of moving on.

‘Here you all are,’ said Andy, joining them in the sitting room. ‘I thought you’d all buggered off to the pub without telling me.’

Jude smiled. ‘Of course not. Clara was just showing me the painting, but I do have to run now.’

‘I’ll be getting out of your hair now too,’ said Marco. ‘Thanks for the pizza and I mean it, just knock if you need a cup of sugar or someone to help you put up a curtain pole.’

Clara smiled. ‘Thanks, I’ll remember that.’

Marco and Jude let themselves out of the front door and walked through the garden onto the narrow path in front of the cottages.

‘Are you okay, Jude?’ Marco asked.

‘Just about.’ Jude rubbed at the tiredness that was still playing with her eyes. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve drunk as much as we did last night. I couldn’t get up this morning, Noah had to do all the early jobs for me.’

‘I didn’t realise quite how much we polished off between us until I came to clear the kitchen up this morning.’ Marco grimaced. ‘It certainly explained the headache I woke up with.’

Jude put her hands in the pockets of her work trousers and looked at the moss growing across the packed grit of the path, edged with chunks of Malvern stone. ‘Thanks for taking me and the dogs in yesterday. It was exactly what I needed after such an awful day.’

Marco stepped forward and folded her into a hug. ‘You know I’m here any time.’

She breathed in the smell of his overalls, a mix of linseed oil, turps and something lemony, possibly his shampoo. It would have been so easy to just stay there for a while, safe and comforted, without any need to think of anything else.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I do know that.’

‘Don’t be late for Sebbie.’ Marco pulled away and gave her a kiss on her cheek. ‘And say hi to him from me.’

Jude sighed. ‘Will do,’ she said before hurrying down the road towards the little school in the centre of the village. As she neared the throng of parents spilling out of the playground with little ones either running ahead of them or clinging to their hands, she noticed a woman who seemed out of place standing on the other side of the road, watching what was going on. She was built like a rugby front row with hair pulled loosely up into a mousey topknot and a duffel bag slung across her. Jude wondered what business she had staring at a school playground full of children and their parents.

Jude caught the woman’s eye for a moment but she pulled her hood up, threw her hands into her pockets and sauntered off towards the village shop. Jude felt a strange pull to follow her and try to find out who she was but she was already late enough for Sebbie so she ran into the playground to find him. Her heart sank when she saw him standing alone with Miss Elgar, realising he was the very last to be collected.

‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she said as she rushed over to relieve the teacher of her charge.

Miss Molly Elgar was in the twilight years of her teaching career and had been at Malvern End long enough to remember Jude’s husband, Adam, as a small boy in her class. She’d also helped Jude when she’d taken some supply work there as a recently qualified teacher when she’d first moved to Malvern End. In those days, she’d split her time between the job she’d spent four years training to do and the farm work that would eventually take over completely.

Molly smiled at her reassuringly. ‘Sebbie and I have been having the most wonderful chat about the different breeds of sheep you have up on the farm. I really don’t know how you do it all, Jude.’

Jude knew that Molly Elgar would have assumed she was late because she’d been busy working hard on the farm and hoped fervently that she wouldn’t smell the hint of beer and garlic bread on her breath.

‘Aunty Judy, Miss Elgar said that maybe we could take my class to see the sheep and my Runner ducks too one day.’ Sebbie, who always had an excess of energy, was bouncing from one foot to the other, his school bag bumping against his back. ‘Can we do that? Please?’

‘It was an idea Sebbie came up with,’ said Molly. ‘Of course it may not work but if you think it’s possible then we can try and sort it perhaps for the summer term.’

‘I think it’s a brilliant idea,’ said Jude. ‘Let me know what day you’d like to visit and we can plan something special.’

‘Hooray!’ Sebbie cheered and grabbed hold of Jude’s hand to pull her from the playground.

‘Come on then, let’s get you home for a snack,’ Jude said. ‘Say goodbye nicely first though, please.’

‘Bye, Miss Elgar.’

‘Goodbye, Sebbie.’ Miss Elgar waved. ‘Nice to see you, Jude.’

As she left the playground, Jude’s mind was still on the woman she’d seen watching the school and she decided to make a quick detour to see if she was still around.

‘Shall we go and see Mrs James at the shop before we go home?’

‘Yes, please!’ Sebbie knew that the village shop meant either chocolate or an ice-cream.

A little way up the road, beyond the village shop Jude spotted the stranger walking away and stuffing some things into her duffle bag, still keeping her head down and hood up. Something about the odd behaviour outside Sebbie’s school and the way she was now conspicuous in her clear desire to hide her face made Jude even more suspicious.

The tinkle of the shop’s bell sounded and Jude looked up to see Mrs James come rushing outside looking agitated.

‘Stop,’ she shouted up the road, and Jude saw the hooded woman start to run. She was already nearing a bend in the road towards the edge of the village and was soon out of sight; Jude would never have been able to catch her up.

‘Oh, Jude,’ Mrs James said. ‘I’ve been robbed.’

15

Mrs James refused to call the police. ‘They’ve got better things to do than hare around the countryside chasing chocolate bar robbers,’ she said when Jude asked.

As well as the chocolate, the woman had also taken some cheese and ham from the fridge and perhaps some other bits and pieces but nothing of huge worth. Mrs James was right, it wasn’t exactly the crime of the century but as Jude walked back to find Maz, with Sebbie chattering nineteen to the dozen beside her, she thought of the woman and what business she had to be in Malvern End. The village did see its share of visitors but it tended to attract hikers or mountain bikers, and the stranger had definitely not fitted into either of those categories.

It was a shame that Mrs James was so averse to fitting CCTV into the shop as she would have liked to have shown any footage of the woman to Binnie. It was entirely possible that she had just been a chancer, passing through the area and never to be seen again. But when there were two unsolved murders, one of which had happened very close to where the stranger had been hanging around, Jude wondered if there was a chance she might be involved in more than just shoplifting a few snacks.

The two were soon back at Maz, and Sebbie climbed up into the cab where he stowed his bags before sitting in the driving seat.

‘You want to drive?’ Jude asked.

‘Yes, please,’ Sebbie grinned.

‘Budge over then.’

Sebbie made space for Jude to sit down and then he clambered up onto her knee and put both hands on the steering wheel. Jude put the key in the ignition and started the engine, then she knocked Maz into first gear and started to set off slowly up the field with Sebbie steering them towards the top gate.

‘Watch out for the sheep,’ Jude said, knowing that there was no danger of them running over livestock at five miles per hour, with Jude surreptitiously helping steer and with her foot ready on the brake pedal just in case.

They trudged slowly up to the gate, where Sebbie jumped down and opened the latch to allow Jude to drive the tractor through.

‘Did you click it shut properly behind you?’ Jude asked when Sebbie got back in to take his place at the wheel.

‘Of course I did, Aunty Judy.’

Back in the yard, Jude took full control of Maz so she could park her safely in the shed and then she and Sebbie went into the house to get some supper started for the family.

It wasn’t until a pot of beef casserole was bubbling away nicely on the top of the Aga that Jude remembered the hard drive. She called Binnie but she didn’t pick up so she left a message and put the hard drive to one side whilst she set about peeling potatoes.

All the while she was peeling, the potential content of the hard drive taunted Jude. What was on there that Becka didn’t want to be discovered? Why had she been so worried about it that she kept it at her friend’s house for safekeeping? And could any of the files contained on it link to a motive for murder?

With the potatoes finished and Sebbie busy building something out of Lego in the playroom, Jude gave Binnie another call that was again unanswered. She picked up the hard drive and stared at it for a short while before making her decision and taking it into the old music room that she’d set up as her office.

On the desk that overlooked the yard was an ancient laptop with a battery long dead, meaning it had to stay plugged in. Whilst Jude waited for it to slowly whir into life, she went to check on Sebbie, who was in his element with both dogs lying next to him and a huge box of Lego bricks to play with.

The computer took its time but eventually a list of files appeared on the screen, so many that Jude wasn’t sure where to begin. She decided the best thing to do was to copy the lot onto her computer so she could leaf through them at her leisure.

As well as a list of little yellow file icons, each labelled up with a mixture of initials and numbers, there was a single document entitled Joyce’s Investigation Rules which intrigued Jude. As soon as the upload was complete, she clicked open the document and found it contained a short list.

- Trust nothing unless it is wholly irrefutable.

- Question every coincidence.

- Ask the awkward questions.

- Don’t let sentimentality cloud your judgement.

- Record everything – but never directly on your computer.

‘Hence the external hard drive,’ said Jude to herself. She supposed this made it less discoverable to those looking for it. Someone like Joyce perhaps? Could that have been why she’d been poking around Becka’s house the day of the crash? She must have known of its existence as it was clearly Joyce who had suggested to Becka that all notes be kept off the laptop. Jude remembered speaking to Joyce in her kitchen and the questions she and Binnie had asked about the investigations Becka was involved in. Joyce had told them to look into the files on Becka’s computer but she must have known there would be nothing there. What had she been trying to hide?

And if this list of investigative rules had come directly from Joyce, as the title suggested, then it stood to reason that Joyce would have kept any of her own notes in a similar way. Jude wondered how likely it was that this was what Joyce had been asking her to look for in the summer, and her desire to go snooping increased.

Realising that she had, as always, cooked far too much food for the family she thought that this might be the key she needed to visit Phil and gain access to the house. She could go round on the pretence of dropping a hot meal off for him and take her opportunity to have a subtle look around. Scout out any signs of summer houses, summer holiday snaps, or anything else that might be a suitable hiding place for another external hard drive.

Jude turned her attention back to the files on the screen. She noticed that one stood out as it was titled in a different format, easier to understand than the initials and numbers of the other files. Class pics. It seemed as good a place to begin as any and when Jude clicked on it, she found herself looking at a cluster of four photo icons which turned out to be old school photos. They had all been taken by a professional photographer and showed a class dressed in the navy and gold uniform of The Chase High School where Jude herself had gone quite a few years earlier.

A wave of nostalgia ran through Jude as she recognised the blue curtains of the old school hall and the face of her technology teacher, Mr Curry, who sat in the centre of the bench at the front with a board in front of his legs. Plastic letters had been stuck on it to form the year and class name, ranging from 7CY to 10CY as the years passed and the children aged.

Jude opened up the latest photo and searched each face until she found the one she was looking for. Becka hadn’t changed all that much since her school days and was fairly easy to spot. Jude looked at the other students but couldn’t find anyone else she recognised.

As well as the photos, there was also a Word document that revealed a list of names which Jude assumed corresponded to the children in the pictures. It seemed an odd thing to have in a file of investigative notes and perhaps nothing more than an unrelated folder that had got tangled up somehow. Jude hit the print button anyway and the list of names slid out onto a sheet of paper which she laid on top of a pile of invoices and grant applications in her wire inbox.

Jude looked on the screen at the list of yellow folders again with their initials and numbers and chose to start at the beginning, clicking on AF01. Inside she found a Word document and cluster of other things including a couple of photos. The Word document was titled ALAN FOSTER and contained an outline of a person’s life including address, phone number, job record and details of a football club he was a member of. There were also notes on his family (wife and twin boys), pets (dachshund called Fred and cat called Ginger) and a screenshot of an article taken from a local online regional newspaper from Shropshire. It detailed the story of a man called Alan Foster who’d found a rare medieval ring whilst out for a walk which had kicked off a frenzy as detectorists from all over the country had come to try their luck on the same piece of common land.

The next file Jude looked at was a similar set-up, but this time detailing the life of a woman called Clare Tandy née Keane, a married but childless nurse who worked at Gloucester Royal Hospital and rode horses in her spare time.

A quick check at the list of names she’d printed out and Jude found who she was looking for. There they were: Alan Foster and Clare Keane.

‘Becka was testing out her investigation skills on the people she’d gone to school with,’ she said aloud.

Jude scrolled through the entire list, wondering if any other names might jump out at her, perhaps even someone called Summer, but there was nothing of interest. There wasn’t enough time to look through the forty or so similarly titled files, but there was one more that did beg to be opened.

It was called Emancy and was the only other folder not to adhere to the initial and number format of labelling. Jude clicked on the little icon to open it and found it was much fuller than the others she’d looked at, housing several sub-folders.

‘Aunty Judy,’ Sebbie called from the playroom. ‘Aunty Judy, come and see what I’ve made.’

‘In a moment, sweetie,’ Jude replied, keen to look into the contents of the file further.

The Emancy file appeared to be full of information pertaining to various companies and the state of their accounts, all of which were alien and dull to Jude’s untrained eye. She was about to give up when she opened a file that made her sit up a little straighter. This one was also a file about a company, a company that bore the same name as the parent file, Emancy. It was a financial services company that had gone into liquidation. Owned by Mr Philip Mason and Mr George Clay. Mason and Clay, or M and C, which had lent itself to the name of the company.

Jude might not have understood exactly what she was looking at in terms of numbers and jargon but what she knew instantly was that Becka had been investigating Phil’s ruined company. What had she uncovered as she dived into the back rooms of the accounts? Perhaps there was something hidden in these files that would highlight George Clay hadn’t been the only partner to have played an underhand game, even if he was the only one to have been caught. And if Becka had discovered that Phil was also tangled up in fraudulent affairs then was it possible he’d found out? Would he have killed to keep her quiet?

‘Aunty Judy, is it a moment yet?’ Sebbie called.

Jude took the drive out of the old laptop and set it to one side, ready to give to Binnie as soon as she had the opportunity.

‘Yes, I’d say that has been a moment.’ She closed all of the files and turned the computer off before heading into the playroom where she found Sebbie sitting on the floor with a square box in front of him made out of Lego blocks of all colours. There was an assortment of windows scattered across the four walls and a door at the front. A large sheet of green had been laid over the top which Sebbie lifted off to show Jude what was inside.

‘It’s my school,’ he said proudly. ‘There are lots of chairs inside for the teachers to sit on and can you see the yellow bit in the corner?’

‘I can,’ Jude said. ‘Next to the big table. What’s that?’

‘That’s where Kai was sick when he tried eating playdough,’ said Sebbie. ‘It was really weird because he ate orange playdough, but his sick came out yellow.’

‘Now, that is weird,’ Jude agreed.

‘And that bit there where I put little tiny bits of paper, that’s where Kai got really mad with Miss Elgar and ripped up his phonics worksheet.’

‘That doesn’t sound very sensible of him,’ Jude said.

‘Aunty Judy, Kai is definitely not sensible.’

‘Not always, perhaps.’ Jude picked up a few stray pieces of unused Lego and put them in the empty sheep lick tubs that served as perfect storage containers.

‘I need to get on with supper now so can you please make sure you pick up all the extra pieces and put them away nicely? You can keep the school out but put it up on the side so the dogs can’t get it.’

‘Okay, Aunty Judy, I will.’

By the time Lucy arrived in the kitchen at the end of her working day, Jude had decanted a sizeable portion of beef casserole into a container and was ready to drive across the hills to drop it off at Phil’s house and see if she could force an invitation inside.

‘You’re not just doing this out of the kindness of your heart, are you?’ Lucy asked when Jude shrugged her coat on and picked up the casserole.

‘Yes and no,’ Jude admitted, ‘but mainly no.’

‘Tell me all about it when you get home.’ Lucy swapped her work shoes for a pair of slippers that were waiting for her by the Aga. ‘And keep safe.’

‘Always,’ Jude promised.

There were no cars parked on the Masons’ drive, which was a clear indication that nobody was home, but Jude pulled up and put the handbrake on anyway. She took the casserole off the passenger seat and climbed out of the Land Rover, locking the door behind her. The house was in complete darkness as she walked past the fountain, now with no water running from it.

Without much expectation of it being answered, Jude knocked but predictably the only sign of life inside came from the frenzied barking of Rex, who had clearly been locked in the kitchen.

Jude was about to give up and go back home when an impetuous flicker lit the fuse of an idea within her. She wanted to have a look around the house and delve into places that might hold answers to some of the bigger questions she had about the nature of Becka’s investigations into Phil’s company, and what better way to snoop than when the house was empty?

Before she started weighing up the ethics of breaking into someone else’s home, Jude rested the casserole on the half-height brick wall that surrounded the covered entrance and went to find the key safe. She knew the first three digits Joyce had given her when she’d asked Jude to put out a house key for Phil: double oh seven, easy to remember. It didn’t matter that she’d forgotten the final digit as there were only ten to choose from. When she got as far as the number five, the little flap popped open, revealing the spare front door key.

Jude took it out, picked the casserole back up and let herself in. The barking intensified so she opened the kitchen door to check on Rex. He stopped barking as soon as he saw her and his back end started to wag excitedly as he sniffed her all over for signs that she was the friend he remembered.

‘Hey there, Rex,’ Jude said. ‘Has anyone taken you out today?’

Rex caught a waft of the casserole in her hands and jumped up to try and sample it. Jude was thankfully quick in raising it above her head and out of his reach.

‘Oh, no. This isn’t for you, I’m afraid.’

She deposited the container at the very back of the kitchen unit and then opened the back door to let the dog out for a wee. The garden was dusky but she stared into it to see if there was any sign of a summer house that might be worth investigating. There wasn’t.

‘Summer, summer, summer,’ she chanted as she turned to look around the kitchen.

There was a large calendar attached to the wall so Jude went and flicked back to the summer months, looking at all the entries in June, July and August but there was nothing that stood out to her as being of any particular interest.

She tentatively opened one of the drawers in the dresser and found a jumble of odds and ends, none of which were surprising or out of the ordinary. The second drawer contained a bundle of unwritten greetings cards, a sheet of postage stamps and a large address book. Jude put her thumb against the S tab on the index markers that ran down the edge and it fell open to a list of contacts with surnames starting with S. There was no mention of anyone called Summer so Jude replaced the book and closed the drawer.

Suddenly her mission seemed ridiculous as she hadn’t a clue what Joyce had meant by look in the summer. But she was there and wouldn’t get another chance so she decided to at least make the most of it. She looked in the cupboards and found the usual kitchen paraphernalia but there was no sign of any external hard drives or anything that shouted ‘summer’ at her.

Moving her search to the sitting room, she discovered a cluster of photo albums, heavily weighted to photos of Phil at various stages of his life. These included summer holiday albums but again Jude was left frustrated as she found nothing of consequence. Sunglasses cases, a decorative parasol that was tucked in a rather naff umbrella stand, books about the beaches around the UK, all potentially the link to summer that she was looking for but all empty of clues.

Just as she was reinstating a bunch of silk sunflowers into their vase, Jude heard the sound of a car pulling into the drive. Not wanting to be caught rifling through Joyce’s things by her grieving nephew, Jude switched the light off in the sitting room and ran into the downstairs loo. She sat on the closed seat and waited for the front door to open, planning on coming out as though she had every right to be there and spilling a story about dropping off a casserole and needing to use the facilities whilst she was there.

Whilst she waited, she glanced around the twee little room with swaggy net curtains and a hand towel covered in a ditsy flower print. On the walls hung a series of four prints, all signed in the corner by George Barbier. Each showed a heavily stylised scene of people enjoying their leisure time and each had a title written in swirly letters beneath Le Printemps, L’Été, L’Automne and L’Hiver.

Jude’s GCSE French lessons gave her just enough knowledge to translate them.

‘The four seasons,’ she whispered to herself.

The front door opened and Phil must have walked in and wondered what was going on as he called out a suspicious, ‘Hello,’ before closing the door.

‘Hello,’ he said again. ‘Who’s here?’

Jude called back from behind the locked loo door. ‘It’s Jude Grey. Sorry, I came to drop a casserole off for you and got caught short.’

She flushed the loo to emphasise her point and disguise the noise of her removing the picture of two beautiful art deco women standing next to a third who was luxuriating on a fabric swing. It was titled L’Été or The Summer and when Jude turned it over, she found exactly what she was looking for.

16

Jude ran the water to cover the sound as she carefully peeled away the tape that was attaching the USB stick to the back of the Barbier print. She hung the picture back up and put the memory stick into her pocket, then she put her hands under the tap for authenticity’s sake before turning it off.

‘I’m sorry for letting myself in,’ she said as she exited the loo, wiping her hands on her trousers to dry them off. ‘I just thought you might not fancy cooking for yourself tonight and I made far too much for us.’

Phil looked a little surprised to see her but he seemed to buy her explanation and didn’t quiz her further.

‘That was a kind thought,’ he said, walking into the kitchen and throwing his keys onto the dresser. ‘I was going to see what’s lurking in the depths of the freezer but a home-cooked meal sounds infinitely nicer.’

‘It’s nothing fancy,’ said Jude, relieved that she appeared to have got away with it and keen to get out of the house so she could take a look at what was on the memory stick. ‘Just beef casserole. It’ll go with anything, though: baked potato, pasta, rice, even oven chips if that’s all you’ve got.’

Phil walked over to the cooker and lifted the lid on the container Jude had left there. He inhaled deeply. ‘It smells amazing and there seems plenty for two, unless you have to hurry away?’

‘I’d better be getting back,’ said Jude. ‘My sister’s had a really tough day and I said I’d help out with her little one. He’s at that tricky age.’ Not complete fabrication but she hoped the fact that she was using her family as an excuse wasn’t obvious to Phil.

‘Fair enough.’ Phil looked dejected as he smiled at her thinly. ‘Thanks for the casserole, I really appreciate it.’

‘You’re welcome,’ said Jude. ‘Bye then.’

Jude walked towards the front door when Phil called her name.

‘Yes?’ Jude hesitated, nervous that somehow Phil had seen through her lies and was about to ask for the USB she’d stolen.

‘Would you mind putting it back before you go?’

‘Pardon?’ Jude feared she looked as guilty as a dog caught stealing sausages straight from the pan.

‘The key from the key safe,’ said Phil. ‘I assume that’s how you got in. The bloody door locks itself automatically when it’s closed and I’ve had to rely on the spare key more than once to get back in again.’

Jude laughed in relief. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you being locked out.’

‘Thanks again for the casserole,’ said Phil as Jude let herself out. ‘I don’t suppose you also decided to take Rex with you, it’s wonderfully quiet in here.’

‘Sorry, no. I let him out for a wee. He’s still in the garden.’

Phil’s face fell. ‘I thought it was too good to be true when I wasn’t attacked in my own home. Oh well, only a few more days until I can drop him off at Clara’s.’

‘Did Lesley, the dog walker, agree to have him during the days then?’

‘God, I hope so.’

Jude hoped so too because she knew what a sucker she was, especially when it came to animals, and she feared that if there was any issue with Rex’s future then her mouth would step in and offer to take him on before her sensibility had a chance to stop it.

Before Jude left Hanley Swan, she pulled up by the duck pond and called Binnie on the off-chance that she had finished work and was free for a catch-up.

‘I’m just clocking off,’ Binnie said. ‘In fact, I was about to call as I picked up your message about the hard drive Clara gave you. And something about a woman hanging around the village?’

‘I’ve got more than that to give you now,’ Jude replied. ‘I’ve just been round to drop off a casserole with Phil Mason and I solved the mystery of Joyce’s cryptic clue about summer.’

‘Jude, you weren’t snooping without telling me, were you?’ Jude could hear the exasperation in Binnie’s voice but had learnt that she secretly liked Jude probing into things that Binnie herself couldn’t as a serving police detective – just as long as she didn’t step over any lines and she came up with the goods.

‘I was just dropping a home-cooked meal off at a grieving man’s house, and whilst I was there I happened to need the loo.’

‘Go on,’ said Binnie.

‘Well, hanging on the loo wall were some prints by an artist called George Barbier, one for each season. And taped to the back of the summer print was a USB stick.’

‘You blooming star!’ said Binnie, and Jude felt a flush of pride.

‘I can drop it round to you now, if you like? Perhaps we can have a look through together?’

‘Do you have Becka’s hard drive with you as well?’

Jude scrunched her eyes up in frustration. ‘Dang!’ she said. ‘No, I didn’t think to bring it with me. It’s back at the farm.’

‘No problem,’ said Binnie. ‘I’ll come to you and pick them both up this evening.’

‘Brilliant. Lucy will be happy to see you too, and there’s plenty of casserole and mash if you want to stay for supper?’

‘Sold! See you shortly.’

Back at the farmhouse, Jude found Lucy and Noah sitting on the sofa together enjoying a bit of peace over a cup of tea whilst Sebbie sprawled on the floor, absorbed in a bedtime story on the telly. Pip and Alfie had been joined by Noah’s two dogs and they lay in a heap like one huge shaggy hearth rug. It was a glorious family scene of contentment that made Jude’s heart both soar and ache as she walked in on them.

Instantly distracted by all four dogs who came over to say hello, Jude busied herself making sure each one had their fair share of strokes and tickles.

‘Have you eaten yet?’ She looked at Lucy and Noah.

‘Only Sebbie has,’ said Lucy. ‘We thought we’d wait for you.’

‘Brilliant. Binnie’s on her way over too so I might need to boil a few more potatoes.’

‘Are you kidding?’ Noah chuckled. ‘There are already enough to feed an army, plenty of casserole too by the looks of it.’

‘Jude believes in batch cooking. Don’t you?’ Lucy looked up at her.

‘Always better to have leftovers than for someone to go to bed hungry.’ Jude took her fleece off and hung it over one of the armchairs as the wood burner was roaring and it was warm in the sitting room. ‘Adam’s mum taught me that.’

‘Are you going to sit down for a bit?’ Noah asked.

‘There’s something I want to do first. You carry on watching your bedtime story, I don’t want you to miss the climax!’

Jude smiled as Lucy flicked her a cheeky bird sign. Then she took the USB she’d discovered behind the Barbier print and went up the step and through the archway that led into the office. The laptop took as long as it always did to fire up and Jude tapped the fingers of one hand impatiently on the desk as she twisted the USB around in the other hand.

As she did, she tried to imagine what she might be about to find and hoped that it would give them a clear lead towards uncovering Joyce’s killer and perhaps Becka’s as well.

Phil was definitely at the top of the list thanks to the Emancy file Jude had uncovered but Andy too had something to hide. He’d lied about his job at the prison and Jude wondered if there was more to it than just to sell books. There were bound to be other toxic secrets on Joyce’s USB that the subjects of the ex-detective’s scrutiny would rather didn’t come to light.

Finally, the laptop puffed into life with much whirring of the internal fan and swirling of the little blue whisp.

Joyce’s files, when they arrived on the screen, were of a similar nature to those on Becka’s hard drive and Jude copied them all onto her computer so she could continue to look through them after she’d given Binnie the memory stick.

Unlike Becka’s files, Joyce’s were all uniform, labelled with just a single word each, which Jude assumed were surnames. She scrolled down the list and couldn’t see any that sprang out as being a match to a member of the Malvern Roaming and Rambling Society.

Before she had the chance to open any of the files and start poking around, Binnie arrived. Whilst Lucy went to the kitchen door to let her in, Jude double checked that all the files had uploaded onto her computer before taking the memory stick out and putting it in a pre-used Jiffy bag along with Becka’s hard drive.

Package in hand, she went into the kitchen where Lucy was pouring Binnie a glass of elderflower tonic water.

‘Is that for me?’ Binnie asked, pointing to the envelope.

‘You only come here for the evidence I collect for you these days.’ Jude feigned disappointment.

‘Sorry.’ Binnie smiled but Jude could see she looked tired and wondered how many hours she’d already put into her job that week. ‘Hi, Jude. Very nice to see you. How was your day? I hope you’re well. Is that for me?’

‘Funny.’ Jude smiled as she handed the envelope over to her friend.

‘What’s that?’ asked Lucy.

‘Let’s get the food out and I’ll tell you everything over supper.’ Jude lifted the casserole dish from the bottom oven where it’d been keeping warm. She took it over to the table where Noah had placed a metal trivet ready for it and Lucy brought over a bowl of mashed potatoes that had been browning in the top oven so they had a lovely crispy coat.

‘Cabbage is in the microwave,’ Lucy said. ‘Help yourself to spuds and stew and I’ll bring the veg over when it’s ready.’

Once everyone had plated up and Noah had topped up glasses, the four friends sat around the kitchen table and, of course, the first topic of conversation was what Jude had found in Joyce Mason’s downstairs loo.

‘Have you looked at any of the files yet?’ Binnie asked.

‘Not on Joyce’s memory stick but I’m afraid I did have a quick look on Becka’s hard drive.’

‘I would have been surprised if you hadn’t,’ Binnie said. ‘And I assume the fact that you’re handing them over to me means you’ve uploaded them to your computer already.’

Jude quickly shovelled in another mouthful of potato and stared at her plate so she didn’t catch Binnie’s eye.

‘Look, you and I both know that I can’t give you permission to do that but we also know that you are incapable of leaving things alone when there’s a mystery to solve, and you are also pretty good at finding things I miss.’ Binnie cocked her head to one side. ‘So, let’s pretend I don’t know you’ve kept a copy of the files and go from there, shall we?’

Jude swallowed her mouthful. ‘Okay, well, you’ll see when you go through them yourself that Becka seems to have used the people from her old form group at school to practise her investigative skills. There are some scanned photos of them as a class and a list of names that match. Each person has a file but I only looked into a few of them. Pretty boring stuff: mostly where they work, names of children, some medical records – which I can’t imagine how she got hold of – but like I say, nothing worth killing for.’

‘I’m glad I didn’t go to school with her,’ Noah said darkly.

‘Why?’ Lucy nudged his arm as he was about to put his next mouthful in and the dollop of gravy-soaked potato fell back to his plate. ‘How many deep and terrible secrets have you got lurking in your cupboard, Mr Harrow?’

‘None at all.’ Noah looked innocently at Lucy. ‘Or probably the same amount as you, at least.’

He turned back to Jude. ‘Go on, you were saying about these files of Becka’s.’

‘The only file that I think could be really interesting is one called Emancy.’

‘I know that name,’ said Binnie. ‘Wasn’t that the company that Phil Mason set up with his business partner, but they went under when he was charged with fraud?’

‘That’s it,’ Jude confirmed. ‘His partner, George Clay, is currently halfway through serving two years, but Phil came away looking completely innocent.’

‘Except, let me guess – Becka’s files show that he wasn’t innocent so much as lucky?’ Noah asked.

Jude took a mouthful of Westons cider and swilled it around her mouth before swallowing.

‘I don’t know,’ she said.

‘You mean you didn’t look?’ Binnie asked.

‘I mean I didn’t understand what I was looking at,’ Jude admitted. ‘It was all numbers and money jargon. I thought it was better to just let you and the team look at it properly.’

‘Fair enough.’ Binnie patted the Jiffy bag. ‘Is Joyce’s in there too?’

Jude nodded. ‘Yes, I put them both in together.’

‘You weren’t after a relaxing evening in front of the telly, were you?’ Binnie looked at Jude with the mischievous look that told her that they would be sitting down at the computer after supper to see exactly what was on Joyce’s memory stick. ‘In your message you mentioned a woman in the village too. Tell me more about her.’

‘There isn’t really much to tell,’ said Jude. ‘I thought she looked suspicious hanging out by the school at pick-up time and then she went into the village shop and stole some groceries.’

‘Not exactly one of the Krays?’ said Noah.

‘Maybe not,’ said Binnie, ‘but when we’re dealing with a double murder then anything suspicious is worth noting.’

Jude’s point exactly.

When the meal was over, Jude and Binnie went into the office and Jude dragged the old piano stool over to the computer so that Binnie could use the office chair.

She had the files from Joyce’s USB on the screen and Binnie had brought her laptop in from the car so she could click through them at the same time. Noah and Lucy had decided to leave them to it, but Jude could see her sister in the living room out of the corner of her eye, watching what was going on in the office.

They’d only been at it for around ten minutes when Lucy called through, ‘Have you found anything of interest?’

‘Why don’t you just pull up a chair and join us?’ Jude asked. ‘We both know it’s killing you not being in the thick of things.’

Lucy looked at Noah.

‘Go on,’ he said. ‘Jude’s right, you’re all sorts of twitchy sitting here with me.’

Lucy took a stool from the playroom and set it down next to Jude.

‘So, what have we got?’ she asked.

‘It looks like exactly what Joyce told us she was doing with Becka.’ Jude pointed to the file icons on the screen. ‘Each one of these contains the details of an old case that she either worked on or found interesting for some reason. So far I’ve only looked at a murder that happened in Leicester in 2001 and an armed robbery in Birmingham from 2007.’

‘Try this one next.’ Lucy pointed at a file named Plante and Jude clicked to open it. Inside were documents about an arsonist in York called Keith Plante who’d set fire to a warehouse and someone had died in the blaze.

‘What a terrible way to go.’ Jude shivered.

‘People killed in fires like that often die from inhaling carbon monoxide before the flames get them,’ said Binnie.

‘Well, let’s hope that’s what happened in this case,’ said Lucy. ‘It says the victim was the owner of the warehouse and that this Keith Plante had been a pissed-off employee.’

‘Now this is interesting.’ Binnie tapped at the touch screen of her laptop. ‘Have you found the file labelled Clay?’

‘No.’ Jude kicked herself for not spotting this earlier and went back to the list of files to open the one bearing the name that she had already come across once that day.

‘George Clay,’ Lucy read out. ‘Phil Mason’s business partner.’

‘Yep,’ Jude confirmed. ‘Becka was also investigating him, I think to find out if Phil was dodgy too.’

‘I’d say Joyce had the same concerns about her nephew.’ Binnie squinted at the screen. ‘I’m no expert in these things but I’d say that she might have uncovered something too.’

‘Well, that’s our motive, surely?’ Lucy was gripping the edge of the stool in excitement. ‘Both Becka and Joyce were investigating Phil’s business and it looks as though they might have stumbled on something that could put him behind bars with Mr Clay. I bet there was the added incentive of a windfall in his aunt’s will. Didn’t you say that Joyce had no other family, Jude?’

Whilst Jude could see where Lucy was coming from, and there was a lot of sense in her deductions, she knew that it wasn’t as cut and dry as that.

‘Joyce adored Phil,’ she said. ‘She’d pretty much brought him up as her own son and I cannot imagine her ever using what she knew to get him into trouble.’

‘Then why investigate him?’ Lucy said.

‘Because that’s what she did,’ Binnie interjected. ‘She investigated people and was the sort to want to know exactly what was happening in the lives of those around her. I agree with Jude though. She would never have given this information to the police if she thought it could be used to prosecute Phil.’

Lucy stared at the computer screen and jabbed her finger towards the file that was still open. ‘Except she did, didn’t she? Jude wouldn’t have found this if Joyce hadn’t told her where to look.’

Jude remembered the desperate look in Joyce’s eyes when she knew that she was dying. She’d known that someone had wanted her dead and Jude was sure that she wanted her to find this memory stick to point the police towards her killer. Lucy was right, it was down to Joyce that they had this file so it stood to reason that she wanted them to find the information she’d uncovered about Phil and Emancy Ltd.

‘I’ll send these off to the team to go through in the morning.’ Binnie pulled the USB from her laptop and put it back in the Jiffy bag. ‘I’ll wait to hear what the specialists make of it before I bring Phil back in for questioning.’

‘I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes when you do,’ said Jude.

If the files pointed to his involvement in the Emancy fraud scandal then not only would he be looking at time in prison, but he’d also have a concrete reason to want both of the women who’d uncovered the truth about him to be silenced before they could spread his secrets.

As she went to bed that night, Jude felt as though they’d stepped closer to solving the murders of both Becka Turgis and Joyce Mason but this didn’t still her mind in the slightest. If anything it made her more frustrated about the things that they still couldn’t answer.

What had Becka been doing in those missing thirty minutes?

Who had called Frank and Damien to tell them where the walking group were heading, and what possible reason could they have?

Where had the cyanide come from, and who had managed to get their hands on it?

And what had Becka been wanting to talk to Andy about? He’d told them that she’d been frightened of something, a word that had always stuck out to Jude, as Becka had been a strong, unflappable woman. She’d stood up to Damien Hawker without so much as a raised heartbeat, despite the fact that he was armed and angry. It therefore stood to reason that for her to be scared, it must have been something big.

Somehow she didn’t think that this was to do with her discoveries regarding Phil. If she wasn’t afraid of Damien then she couldn’t have been afraid of Phil, could she? Unless there was more to him than just a fraudster who’d pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, something that Becka was about to unmask. Or was it possible that her fear stemmed from something else? Was it even Phil who had caused it? And if not him, then who? Damien? Joyce? Another member of the walking group or someone they hadn’t considered yet?

Perhaps they’d never know the answers; after all, the only person who could have told them exactly what she’d been frightened of was beyond questioning now.

17

There was a text waiting for Jude when she got up the next morning. It was from Clara, asking if she was around that afternoon for a walk. It transpired that Phil had loaded the pressure on and Rex would be arriving before he went to work that day. She’d taken the rest of the week off to sort her new cottage out and had caved when Phil rang her in a panic to say that he really couldn’t keep the dog any longer.

Jude had a busy day ahead of her with several guests moving out of the campsite and a large party all due to arrive the next day. It was wonderful to see the bookings continuously roll in but she had underestimated the amount of work it would take to strip beds, make beds, clean the tents and shepherd’s huts as well as make sure everything was up to scratch in the compost loo block and the old horse box that she’d repurposed as shower and wash facilities.

It was not quite nine in the morning when Jude loaded the quad’s trailer up with bags of fresh linen and cleaning supplies and drove across to the camping field. She usually left the camp chores until a more sociable time but she knew the guests would already have moved out. One couple had ordered a taxi to take them to the station for an early train back to London and the other guests had mentioned they’d be getting up before the skylarks as they wanted to start their full-day trek on End Hill to watch the sunrise.

Jude generally enjoyed having visitors on the farm but they did bring their demands and issues with them. She sighed as she stepped up into the horse box and saw the state of the shower block, with toothpaste smeared around the little wash basins and what looked like a drowned animal in the corner of the shower, which turned out to be a large knot of someone’s hair.

She went back to the trailer to fetch her rubber gloves and tub of cleaning stuff when she heard a sneeze coming from the tent closest to her. It was the smallest tent, a canvas triangle built for two but which she’d set up as a single to give her guests more space. Jude knew that nobody had taken it that week. It should have been empty. The whole campsite should have been.

Looking for something to arm herself with, Jude settled on the mop and an antibacterial spray. Not the most fearsome of weapons but still useful if she uncovered trouble from the intruder.

Trying to stay light on her feet to retain the air of surprise, Jude crept towards the tent where she could hear the scuffling of what sounded like someone stuffing things into a bag. There was no mistaking it, Jude was not alone in the campsite.

Biting back the fear that was rising in her, Jude climbed up onto the wooden platform that kept the tent off the grass and bent to unzip the door. She was beaten to it though as a well-built woman with her hair tied up in a messy blonde topknot pushed her way out, shoving Jude aside as she ran past her and down to the bottom of the campsite.

‘Oi!’ Jude scrambled back to her feet and ran after the woman, all fear now replaced by anger. ‘Come back here.’

The woman of course declined Jude’s offer and carried on running, but Jude was fit and fast and managed to reach her as she passed the shepherd’s huts. Jude threw the mop between the woman’s legs, causing her to stumble and trip. It was enough to knock her off balance and a quick shove from Jude had her tumbling to the ground.

Before the woman could figure out what had happened or how to fight back, Jude pinned the woman’s arms behind her back.

‘Get off me.’ She squirmed but Jude had the upper hand, seeing as she was not the one pinned face down in the grass. ‘I’ll report you for assault.’ The woman spoke with a thick three counties accent that identified her as a local.

‘And I’ll report you for trespassing, breaking and entering, and if that blanket hanging out of your bag is from my tent then let’s add robbery too.’

Jude felt her anger ease slightly as she saw the woman’s face properly. She was young, perhaps not even out of her teens yet, and Jude recognised her.

‘You were in the village the other day,’ Jude said. ‘I saw you outside my nephew’s school and then you went into the village shop.’

‘Yeah, so?’ With just two words, she sounded both confrontational and defensive. ‘Nothing says I can’t stand on a pavement if I want to.’

‘Nobody said you couldn’t. But there is definitely something that says you can’t just break into someone’s tent and sleep there without permission and you certainly can’t leave with things that don’t belong to you. Mrs James at the shop would agree with me on that one as she was missing quite a few groceries the day you went in.’

‘You can’t prove that was me.’ She spoke with defiance but Jude could see a vulnerability behind the brave facade.

She eased her grip on the girl. ‘If I let go, will you sit up and talk to me?’

‘Why?’ the girl demanded.

‘Because I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t really want to have you arrested, but I do have some questions.’

‘Whatever.’

‘I mean it. You have to talk or I’ll just get you down again and have the police here in ten minutes to ask you questions instead.’

‘Fine, let me go then.’ She wriggled again but Jude was used to wrestling mighty tups so this girl was no problem for her.

‘You’ll talk to me?’ she asked.

‘I said fine, didn’t I?’

Jude released the girl’s wrists and she turned herself around so that she was sitting on the grass.

‘It’s wet,’ she complained. ‘Do I have to sit down?’

‘Here.’ Jude pointed to the steps of one of the shepherd’s huts. ‘You can sit there.’

The girl flopped onto the step and stuck one of her legs straight out in front of her whilst the other knee kicked out to the side. ‘Go on then.’

‘What’s your name?’ Jude asked, standing in front of her in case she tried running. She was still holding the mop but she knew she wouldn’t use it again, even if the girl did decide to make a run for it.

‘You can call me Kerry.’

Jude wasn’t convinced that was her real name but it would do for now.

‘I’m Jude,’ she said. ‘And I guess you’ve already worked out that this is my farm.’

Kerry nodded sulkily.

‘How old are you, Kerry?’

‘What is this?’ Kerry thrust her chin out. ‘You gonna want my bra size next, are you?’

‘Funnily enough, no.’

Kerry pulled a face and rolled her eyes before answering. ‘Nineteen. Okay?’

Jude bent down to pick up Kerry’s duffle bag, which contained one of the striped green and grey Herdwick wool blankets that Jude had chosen for her luxury tents.

‘Oi, you can’t touch my stuff.’ Kerry jumped to her feet and snatched the bag from Jude.

‘Sit down and I won’t look inside to see what else of mine you’ve nicked.’

Kerry scowled but sat back down and hugged the bag to her chest. She reminded Jude of a cornered animal – angry and snappish but perhaps as a mask to some underlying fear. It unnerved Jude and made her want to tread carefully.

‘What were you doing in my tent?’ she asked. ‘Haven’t you got a home to go to?’

‘Maybe that’s none of your bloody business.’

‘Maybe it is my business if you want to keep staying here.’

This obviously threw Kerry and she looked taken aback. If Jude was honest, it had also thrown her as she hadn’t planned on offering this stranger a tent until the words were already out of her mouth.

‘Hang on, you’re saying I can stay on?’ Kerry looked wary.

‘I’m saying I’ll think about it if you tell me why you’re here in the first place and what you were doing hanging round the village the other day.’

‘Wait a minute, are you going to call the stinking pigs on me if I stay? ’Cos they hate my family and all I did was nick a bit of cheese and some bread and stuff but they’ll probably have me up for all sorts of things.’

‘Don’t give me any reason to call the police and I won’t.’

Kerry leant back against the door of the hut and threw Jude a look that was clearly meant to challenge her. ‘What’s in it for you?’

‘Quite honestly, I’m beginning to wonder that myself.’ Jude hadn’t planned any of this through and she really didn’t have a clue what she was doing. ‘Fine, just give me my blanket back and get out of here. Like I said, I won’t call the police unless I catch you snooping around again.’

She dropped the mop and stepped away, holding her arm out to invite Kerry to leave but the girl stayed put.

‘No, wait. I’ll tell you what you want to know.’ And just like that, Kerry’s mask of bravado slipped away and Jude saw tears start to fall. ‘You weren’t far off when you asked me if I had a home to go to. Not that I don’t have a home, I do, it’s just that my dad kicked me out.’

Jude took a clean tissue from her pocket and handed it over. ‘Why did he do that?’

Kerry took the tissue and inspected it carefully before wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. ‘He found out I’ve been visiting my brother in prison and he didn’t like it. He told me to stop but I said I wasn’t gonna turn my back on ’im like everyone else has. Then he yelled at me that I had to choose who my family was and when I said I chose Jamie he told me to get out and don’t bother coming back. I thought my mum were gonna step in but she never.’

Jude had seen enough families split apart by difficult situations and differences of opinion and she knew how tough it was on everyone. She recognised a broken spirit when she saw one and right at that moment, Kerry was as broken as they came.

‘How long have you been camped out here?’ Jude asked, thinking of the last time she’d cleaned that particular tent. Being close to the loos and the firepit meant it was the least popular, despite also being the cheapest, so it had probably been well over a month, since the summer holidays when the campsite had been almost always fully booked.

‘Only a couple of nights. I just saw them all set up when I was going past the other day and I thought it would do until my mum manages to talk some sense into Dad.’

‘Have you tried talking to your mum?’

‘I did call her but she don’t know what to do neither. Jamie’s her boy and we can’t just stop loving him because he did some’ink stupid.’ Kerry sniffed back more tears and Jude wondered if this was the first time she’d allowed her feelings to flood out in this way. Sometimes it was the attention of a stranger which unlocked things that people tried hard to keep in.

‘But your dad doesn’t see it this way?’

‘He’s not really our dad but he’s bin with Mum since I were little so that’s what I call him. Jamie won’t though. They never saw eye to eye, really. If you ask me, I don’t think Dad was too unhappy when Jamie got locked up. It’s hard on Mum but she don’t want to rock the boat at home.’

Jude felt desperately sorry for the obviously distraught girl, torn between doing what was right by various members of her family. The best solution would obviously be for her to be able to return home, and yet Jude wasn’t sure what that home looked like.

‘Is he violent with either of you?’ she asked gently.

‘Dad?’ Kerry laughed. ‘No. He’s a pussycat normally, like. It’s just Jamie who riled him up. I love ’em both but they’re as bad as each other.’

That was something at least and it gave Jude hope that things might be easier to patch up than she’d thought.

‘Would you like me to take you home and talk with your parents? They must be really worried about you?’

A flash of panic crossed Kerry’s face. ‘You said I could stay here if I talked, and I’ve talked, ant I?’

Jude had got herself into a pickle and she knew it. If she took away her offer of a bed then she risked this young woman running away and finding somewhere less safe to sleep, something that would play on Jude’s mind as she listened to the radio, waiting to hear that something awful had happened to her. Besides, Jude was keen to find out more about Kerry and why she’d come all the way out to Malvern End.

‘I need to be sure I can trust you if I’m going to let you stay here.’

‘What? You think I’m gonna run off with all your stuff?’

Jude raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly at the duffle bag. Kerry pushed the end of the blanket inside.

‘Fair enough. But I promise I won’t go nicking nothing else. And it won’t be for long, just a couple more nights.’ Kerry stood and picked up the mop that had been lying by Jude’s feet. ‘I seen you got the cleaning to do. Maybe I can help you with that?’

She looked so earnest and young that Jude felt a pang of something almost maternal, but she still had questions that needed answering.

‘What brought you to Malvern End?’

‘Nothing, I walked.’

‘No.’ Jude smiled. ‘I mean why did you decide to come in the first place?’

‘Oh. I was hoping to find an old mate of Jamie’s. Stanny Riley, he’s called. Do you know him?’

Jude shook her head. ‘There’s nobody in the village with that name. Why do you think he might be in Malvern End?’

‘Another mate of Jamie’s said she’d seen him in The Lamb, that’s all.’

‘So you came all the way over here to see?’

‘He owes Jamie a couple of favours like, so I thought he might put me up for a few nights.’

Jude couldn’t help wondering what those favours might be in return for and then chastised herself for being so suspicious of everyone.

‘Okay then, we have a deal. You help me clean out the tents and get ready for the new guests and you can stay put for a little while,’ she said. ‘But on two conditions.’

‘Yeah?’ Kerry looked wary.

‘One, you need to speak to your parents and try to patch things up with them.’

Kerry nodded. ‘And the other?’

‘Stay out of trouble whilst you’re here. That means no bothering the paying guests and no stealing anything from anyone. I’ll bring you food so you won’t need to go taking things from Mrs James. In fact, I’d steer clear of the shop if I were you as I don’t think she’d be too pleased to see you.’

‘Deal.’ Kerry gave the first smile that Jude had seen and it transformed her face and somehow made her look even younger.

‘Right then, seeing as you’re holding the mop, we’ll start in the shower block.’

Jude found Kerry to be good company as they worked together to get the campsite ready for the next round of guests expected later that afternoon. The girl had a sharp sense of humour once she’d started to relax, and having her there made the work seem easier and go a lot faster.

‘Tell me about your brother,’ said Jude as they tackled the last of the big bell tents together.

Kerry was instantly wary. ‘What d’you wanna know?’

Jude smiled to try to put her at ease. ‘It sounds like you’re pretty close,’ she said. ‘You must miss him.’

‘I do.’ Kerry’s face clouded with sadness. ‘He’s my big brother, isn’t he? There’s like eight years between us and he was always looking out for me. Then he went and did a stupid thing and those bloody pigs came down on him so hard.’ The sadness gave way to anger. ‘He was put away for other stuff too. Stuff he never even did but like I told you, they got it in for our family.’

Jude felt the unjustness of Kerry’s situation keenly. Through no fault of her own she’d been dumped into a life that made everything harder for her.

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ she said.

‘Yeah, well.’ Kerry scowled at the duster in her hand. ‘No point crying about it, is there?’

‘I suppose not.’

Once the tents and huts had been cleaned and new bedding laid out, Jude and Kerry bundled the dirty laundry into bags and hauled them into the trailer.

‘What are you planning on doing for the rest of the day?’ Jude asked.

‘I’ve got studying to do.’ Kerry looked coy, as though this was something to be ashamed of.

‘That’s brilliant,’ Jude said. ‘What are you studying?’

‘I was doing my GCSEs when all the shit was going on with Jamie so I didn’t do too well.’ Kerry was twisting her hands into the bottom of her T-shirt as she spoke. ‘I’m re-sitting a few of them next year.’

‘That’s really impressive.’ Jude meant it. It must be hard for someone Kerry’s age to take the initiative and go back to study. ‘Do you know what you want to do afterwards?’

‘Yeah. If I get the grades then I want to do a BTech and work at a nursery or pre-school.’

‘I bet you’d be brilliant with the kids,’ said Jude. ‘I used to be a primary school teacher before I took over the farm, so if I can help, just let me know.’

Kerry smiled shyly. ‘Thanks, I will.’

Jude left Kerry to her studies and went back to the farmhouse to get some lunch. She made her own sandwiches to eat whilst she was out on the tractor, and also made some to take down to Kerry.

Noah walked into the kitchen as she was slipping them into a paper bag.

‘I wondered if you were in,’ he said. ‘I’m just stopping for lunch, have you already had yours?’

Jude held up the paper bag. ‘Was planning on eating on the hoof. But to be honest, I could do with a break.’

‘Grand.’ Noah grinned and went over to the sink to wash his hands.

‘You want me to make you a sandwich?’ Jude asked.

‘You sit and eat yours, I can make my own.’ Noah dried his hands on the towel that hung over the Aga rail.

Jude pulled the loaf from the bread bin anyway and set it on the wooden cutting board.

Noah didn’t smile. In fact, when he turned to look at her properly she could see that his face was full of concern.

‘That and I wanted to have a word with you about these murders you’re looking into.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. You can’t deny that you have a history of getting yourself into scrapes and I have to say I’m not sure I like you getting involved again if there’s someone out there keen on slipping poisons into folk’s water bottles.’

Jude was immensely warmed by Noah’s concern for her, a reminder that it might be Lucy that he was in a romantic relationship with but he would always be a part of her family too.

‘Thank you.’ She picked up the bread knife and began sawing at the granary loaf. ‘But I promise I’m looking after myself.’

‘Yeah, I know what that means,’ Noah replied darkly. ‘I don’t like the thought of it though, Jude. You don’t know who got that cyanide and if they have any of it left for bumping off anyone else who gets too close to the truth.’

Jude put the knife down and turned to look at him. ‘I’ll be careful. Nobody knows I’m helping Binnie so how can I be a threat worth poisoning?’

Noah scowled. ‘What about that Phil what’s-his-face? You went marching over there yesterday on your own and I don’t trust him. His story is shifty if you ask me. And he goes to London a lot from what I hear so he could easily have picked up some poisons, couldn’t he?’

Jude couldn’t help laughing at Noah’s take on what life must be like in the city he’d never stepped foot in. She imagined markets in London where men and women wearing aprons stood under striped awnings, calling out their wares. Get your poisons here, ladies and gentlemen. Cyanide, arsenic, strychnine – name your weapon.

‘I don’t know that it works quite like that,’ she said. ‘As far as I know there aren’t too many poison supermarkets in London.’

‘Well then, where did it come from? The web, do you think? Or does someone know how to make it themselves? Didn’t you say that new woman who moved into Granny Margot’s cottage is a scientist?’

‘Clara?’ Jude said in surprise. ‘Yes, but not a chemist. Poisons aren’t exactly her expertise.’

Although she dismissed it, Jude couldn’t help turning her gaze of suspicion for the first time to Clara. She had driven along Jubilee Drive just ten minutes before Jude and Binnie and therefore it was possible that she’d been there when Becka’s car had hit the bends. Her car fit the slack description of the witness, but then so did most of the others. And what motive did she have?

Could Clara have wanted Becka out of the way to open up things for her to be with Andy? Perhaps Joyce had realised this so she had to die as well? It was far-fetched to say the least but Noah had reminded her to overlook nobody when it came to a thorough investigation.

‘And who was that I saw you with down in the campsite earlier?’ Noah asked. ‘To begin with I thought she was one of the campsite guests but then I saw her carrying the mop and bucket. Have you hired a cleaner?’

‘Like I’ve got the money to do that.’ Jude sighed.

‘It’d be money well spent if you ask me.’

‘Well, no, I haven’t. She’s just a young woman having a bit of a tough time at the moment. She’s staying in one of the tents for a little while, until she gets herself sorted and she offered to help me with the cleaning whilst she does.’

Noah’s face clouded over again. ‘And she just turned up, did she? This woman of yours.’

‘Don’t be like that. She’s only nineteen and her dad told her to leave after they had a row. I couldn’t just chuck her out onto the streets, where would she go?’

Noah softened visibly. ‘Maybe not but she’ll need keeping an eye on.’

Jude knew that Noah was only trying to protect them all but she trusted her judgement. With everything that was happening, she realised it would be stupid to let her guard completely down about anyone, especially a stranger who arrived in the middle of a murder inquiry. But Kerry could do no harm staying in a tent for a few nights and Jude would make sure she tried to build bridges with her family so she could move back home. If it didn’t happen soon then she might have a gentle word with Binnie and see what she could do to help facilitate a reunion.

‘She was asking about someone called Stanny Riley,’ Jude said. ‘She was under the impression that he lived in the village but it’s not a name I recognise. Do you?’

Noah scrunched his mouth together and shook his head thoughtfully. ‘Doesn’t ring any bells.’

‘Oh, well.’ Jude went back to buttering the bread for Noah’s sandwich. ‘Hopefully she’ll sort things out with her parents and be back home before too long anyway.’

‘Let’s hope so.’ Noah went to the fridge and took out a brown paper packet of ham slices from Roy’s farm shop. ‘Here, let me do that whilst you eat yours.’

Jude took two plates from the cupboard and put them on the table, then she took her own sandwich from its bag and put it on one of the plates. As she sat down, her head felt full and she battled to still the thoughts as they lined up for her attention. There was so much she didn’t understand and she knew she should leave everything to Binnie and her team, as Noah had suggested.

But Jude felt so heavily invested in the deaths of Becka and Joyce that she knew she had no option but to carry on her own investigation.

18

Jude was surprised to see Clara waiting outside her cottage with Rex on his lead raring to go when she walked up with Pip and Alfie later that afternoon.

‘Sorry I’m late.’

‘You’re not.’ Clara’s arms were taut as she pulled against Rex, who was panting at the end of the lead trying to reach Jude’s dogs. ‘Flo and Brian are coming too, actually. They called me about half an hour ago to see if they could pop in and see the cottage so I invited them for a walk first. I hope that’s okay.’

‘Of course it is,’ Jude said. ‘Perhaps it would be a good idea to walk a different path to the one we did on Sunday?’

Clara looked mightily relieved. ‘Oh, yes, please. I have to say I was hoping you’d be able to show me some alternative routes. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to go through those woods again.’

Rex’s panting had become laboured from the exertion of pulling against his collar.

‘Come here.’ Clara gave a sharp tug on the lead to try to bring him to heel but several years of seemingly no training meant that he paid her no attention. ‘He’s going to hurt himself,’ she said.

‘Here.’ Jude slipped the halter rope off Pip’s neck. ‘Why don’t you give this a go?’

Whilst she was showing Clara how to hook it around Rex’s snout and neck in a figure of eight that took the pressure off his throat and gave control back to Clara, a dark grey estate car pulled up. The door opened and Flo stepped out with Hamble, who had been sitting on her lap, already on her lead.

‘Hello, you lovely girls.’ Flo grinned broadly at Jude and Clara from behind a pair of stylish green sunglasses. A ring of yellow daisies encircled her hair, which was piled up in her usual trademark style. ‘What a super way to spend our afternoon. Brian and I only expected to pop round to say hello and wish you well in your new home, Clara. Didn’t we, Brian?’

Brian, who had got out of the car and was busy taking a package off the back seat, heartily agreed. ‘I couldn’t think of anything nicer to do.’ He slammed the car door shut with his hip and tried to present the package to Clara who, despite the fact that Rex wasn’t pulling as much as he had been, was battling with his efforts to try and paw the halter rope off his snout.

‘She can’t take that now, my love.’ Flo pointed to the cottage. ‘Perhaps you could just leave it in the porch for later.’ She turned back to Clara. ‘It’s nothing much, just one of my sketches of this side of the hills. You can put it up on your wall whilst you wait for something more deserving to fill the space.’

‘That’s so kind of you.’ Clara flushed with pleasure.

She took a key out and followed Brian up the lavender-lined garden path.

‘I’m worried about her,’ Flo said under breath, so quietly that Jude wasn’t sure she’d heard properly.

‘You’re worried about Clara?’

Flo’s usually sunny expression was overcast as she pinched her lips together and nodded. ‘Oh, yes. Living out here all by herself, and with two of our friends having already departed this world. We are told that poison was involved.’ She sucked air in loudly across her teeth. ‘I’m glad I have my Brian to look after me and Hamble. Who does Clara have though? That’s what I’m asking.’

Jude had wondered how much the remainder of the walking group had been told about Joyce’s death but it was now apparent that they at least knew about the cyanide.

‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ Jude said. ‘We all will. It won’t take long for the police to work out who was behind the poisoning and set things right. And until then, I think Andy is keeping a close eye on her. He was here yesterday helping her settle in.’

‘But how do we know he isn’t the one doing the poisoning?’ Flo hissed.

‘What makes you say that?’ Jude wondered if she was about to be gifted a nugget of information that would set the wheels of a new line of enquiry in motion.

Flo’s eyes narrowed. ‘He writes about murder so he’d know all the best ways to kill someone and try to get away with it,’ she said. ‘But I don’t trust Phil either for that matter. Did you know that he’s started to spend his aunt’s money when she’s not even been buried yet?’

‘What’s he done?’ Jude asked.

‘What are you two whispering so furtively about?’ Brian said as he opened the gate to let Clara and Rex through.

‘I was just about to tell Jude about the fancy new car we saw Phil driving around in this morning.’ Flo’s pinched mouth showed everyone how disappointed she was. ‘It’s not right.’

‘Come on, Flo.’ Brian threaded his hand into hers. ‘I told you to stop suspecting everyone of such terrible things. We don’t know for certain that the car we saw him in was his, it could just be a courtesy car whilst his is in the garage.’

‘You always look for the best in everyone, my love.’ Flo gazed at her husband in adoration.

‘Now then, Jude, where are we going to walk?’

They set off across the fields in the opposite direction to the woods where Joyce had taken her last breath. To begin with, the conversation was dominated by the scenery around them and Jude’s local knowledge of their patch. They were a good way into their walk before anyone brought up the rambling group again.

‘Becka would have loved this route,’ Clara said. ‘Joyce too. I wonder if it was one they knew.’

Flo chuckled. ‘I’d say there isn’t a pathway anywhere in the area that Joyce didn’t know about.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Clara agreed. ‘I gather that you were also told about the poison when you went in to talk to the police?’

Flo blew out a whistled breath. ‘It’s a terrible, terrible thing.’

‘What were you saying about Phil?’ Clara asked. ‘It sounded as though you think his new car might have something to do with what’s been happening.’

‘I don’t pretend to know what is going on around here but I do know this.’ Flo stopped walking and jammed the walking pole that she’d borrowed from Brian into a clod of earth. ‘Two of our girls have fallen and that makes me suspicious and anxious too. So I ask myself, who is there that might benefit from this sadness? And then I see Phil in a shiny new car a couple of days later and I think – there is someone who is not as sad as he should be.’

‘Flo, you can’t go about accusing people like this.’ Brian put his hand on her shoulder. ‘First Andy and now Phil. None of our friends have anything to hide, I’m sure.’

‘You thought Andy might have poisoned Joyce?’ Clara looked horrified at the suggestion.

‘There’s a chance,’ Flo said. ‘And maybe Becka too.’

‘You’re wrong.’ Clara’s voice was full of disbelief and anger. ‘How can you think that? You can see how upset Andy has been by it all.’

‘They knew his secret.’ Flo spoke as though every word was steeped in mystery. ‘But I can’t say more than that because if he knows that I heard them talking about it then I could be in danger too.’

‘Do you mean the fact he wasn’t really a prison officer and that he’s never worked in a prison?’ Jude asked.

Flo gasped. ‘You know as well?’

‘I think we all do,’ said Clara, looking very bristly.

‘You should be careful not to let him know,’ said Flo. ‘Just in case I’m right about it, in which case you might be next on the list.’

‘Flo, stop it now.’ This was possibly the closest to a level of force that Jude had ever heard come from Brian’s mouth.

‘None of this has anything to do with Andy,’ said Clara. ‘He wouldn’t hurt a fly and for your information he’s been very open about never working in a prison. It’s something he’s actually quite embarrassed about and it wasn’t his idea, it was his agent’s. Andy tried to say no but it was brought up at a meeting with his publisher and they were all so excited that he just went along with it.’

Flo didn’t look convinced. ‘I know you like him, sweet pea.’ She reached forward and took Clara’s hand in hers. ‘I’m just watching out for you, that’s all.’

The walking party returned to the village and Brian asked if they could stop off at the village shop as he needed to pick up a pint of milk and a lottery scratch card.

The others waited outside with the dogs but Mrs James spotted them through the window and, when Brian had made his purchases, she followed him out.

‘Hello, Mrs James,’ Jude said. ‘Have you met Clara yet? She’s just moved into Margot Lloyd’s cottage.’

‘It’s nice to have you here, welcome to Malvern End.’ Mrs James tucked her hands into the little patch pockets on the front of her apron. ‘Anything that I can do for you, you’ll know where to find me now.’

‘Thank you for the warm welcome,’ Clara smiled.

‘Jude, I wanted to tell you that the strangest thing happened this afternoon. That girl who stole the bits and pieces from me yesterday came back.’

Jude’s heart plummeted. She’d trusted Kerry and already had reason to regret it.

‘What did she steal this time?’

‘That’s just the thing, she came to apologise.’

Jude felt her eyebrows raise in surprise. ‘She came to say sorry to you?’

Mrs James nodded. ‘She said she’d been desperate for something to eat but had no money and that she’d come by again when she could pay what she owed.’

‘Well, that’s something then,’ Jude said. ‘I’m glad to hear it. Actually, I found her staying in one of my tents and said she could stick around for a few days. Her name’s Kerry.’

‘That’s kind of you,’ said Mrs James. ‘She really was a sorry thing. Said she was looking for her friend, Stanny Riley. You don’t know that name, do you?’

Jude shook her head. ‘I don’t. I hope she finds him though.’

‘So do I. Well, I’d better get back to the shop. Bye for now.’

The bell tinkled as Mrs James went back inside.

‘Have you all got time for a cup of tea before you have to go?’ Clara asked.

Jude had plenty of other things she could be getting on with but found herself caught up with the tide and was swept back to Clara’s cottage.

‘It’s a bit of a mess still, I’m afraid,’ Clara apologised as she let everyone into the cottage. ‘This cheeky boy doesn’t help.’ As soon as she let Rex off his lead, he started to run rings around everyone as though he hadn’t been exercised for months. ‘He’s a lovely boy and wonderful company but I don’t know what to do with him.’

‘Have you spoken to Lesley yet?’ Jude asked.

‘No, I went over this morning when I knew Phil was going to drop him off but she wasn’t in.’

‘Give her a ring,’ Jude suggested. ‘She’s a legend around these parts and has sorted out dogs far trickier than this boy over the years. If anyone can help you calm him down, it’s Lesley.’

Clara sighed. ‘God, I hope so.’ She went to put the kettle on. ‘Not that I’m blaming Joyce, I just don’t think she had the time to spend training him properly.’

‘I thought she was retired,’ Flo said as she sat down at the kitchen table and lifted Hamble onto her knee.

‘She was.’ Clara pulled some mugs from the cupboard. ‘But according to Becka, that didn’t stop her keeping her investigative hand in. She was always talking about interesting cases that she’d been looking into. Can you imagine doing that sort of thing for fun? Looking up all the gory details of a real murder? There was one case she’d been looking at where a man set fire to his boss’s workshop whilst he was still in it. Burnt to a crisp, can you imagine?’

Jude’s attention was instantly caught as she recalled the case she’d seen on the USB.

‘Did Joyce tell you about it?’ she asked.

‘No, Becka did. It was one of the old cases that they’d been looking into together.’

‘Becka was investigating these cases too?’ Flo looked confused. ‘But she worked as a financial adviser.’

‘It was a hobby mainly,’ said Clara as she placed a mug of tea down in front of Flo and tried to pass another to Brian but he waved it away.

‘Not for me,’ he said. ‘I’m actually not feeling 100 per cent.’ He did look a bit peaky, beads of sweat starting to form visibly across his forehead.

‘Here, take a seat.’ Jude pulled a chair out for him but he headed for the back door.

‘I think I just need a bit of fresh air.’ He was pulling at the neck of his jumper and Flo, wearing the jumper’s twin, put Hamble on the floor so that she could stand up and take his arm.

‘You’re not looking too good, my love,’ she said, panic in her eyes. ‘I think we should call an ambulance. What if you’ve been poisoned too?’

It was a natural concern after the events of the weekend and Jude was inclined to agree that caution was sensible but Brian brushed their fears away.

‘Don’t be silly. I’ve just got a bit warm in here after out walk. Fresh air will see me right.’

Clara rushed to unlock the back door, throwing a worried look at Jude as she did so.

‘I do think it would be best to get you checked over,’ said Jude, who was having vivid flashbacks to Joyce’s similar symptoms just before she keeled over.

‘It really is nothing,’ Brian insisted, right before he crashed to the kitchen floor.

19

The ambulance took nearly thirty minutes to arrive, by which time Brian was sitting up at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of water.

He hadn’t been unconscious for very long but he had hit his head hard on the tiles and was still wobbly.

‘Let’s have a look at you then.’ The paramedic clipped a sats monitor onto Brian’s finger and slid a Velcro cuff around his arm. ‘All seems to be okay now,’ she said once she’d carried out more checks, ‘but with a bang like that to the head, I’d like to take you in to be looked at properly.’

‘There’s no need,’ said Brian. ‘I just fainted, that’s all. It happens sometimes when my blood pressure dips a little bit. I really don’t need anyone to fuss.’

‘Well, it’s up to you, of course,’ the second paramedic said. ‘But if you don’t go in then at least stay alert for signs of concussion. Any headaches, dizziness, nausea, trouble with your sight or anything else that just doesn’t feel right and I want you to promise to come straight in.’

‘I’ll make sure of it,’ said Flo who was gripping her husband’s arm as though it was in danger of falling off.

‘In that case, I’ll leave him in your capable hands.’

The paramedics packed their equipment away and Clara showed them out of the front door.

‘You gave us all a fright there, Brian,’ said Jude, who couldn’t quite shake the niggling doubt that something more serious than fainting had just occurred. ‘You make sure you listen to the advice and get help if you need it.’

‘Honestly, it’s all a fuss about nothing.’ Brian caught sight of Jude’s concerned face. ‘Thank you for worrying about me. I promise to go and see the doctor if I have another funny turn.’

‘Will you be okay driving him home, Flo?’ Jude asked. ‘I can give you both a lift if you like and then bring you back tomorrow to pick up the car.’

‘Don’t you worry about us now.’ The flowers surrounding Flo’s topknot bounced a little as she spoke. ‘We’ll be fine.’

‘You’re not leaving, are you?’ Clara asked as she walked back into the kitchen to find Flo and Brian gathering up their things.

‘I need to get him home and into his favourite pyjamas.’ Flo patted Brian on the arm. ‘Come on now, Hamble.’

The dog trotted beside them as Brian and Flo went out into the front garden and down the path to where their car was waiting. Flo opened the passenger door for Brian to get in and then settled Hamble into the back before turning to Jude and Clara.

‘I’m sorry for all the fuss and bother. You’re lovely girls, both of you. Make sure you look after yourselves properly now, you hear me?’

‘Is it me or was that all a little strange?’ Clara asked as Flo closed the driver’s door and started the engine.

‘I have to say that when Brian collapsed, I was convinced the poisoner had struck again,’ Jude admitted. She thought about Flo’s choice of words as she left, and Brian’s reluctance to go to hospital and she knew she agreed with Clara, it was indeed very strange.

The car drove away through the village and Jude followed Clara back inside to collect Pip and Alfie, who were having a lovely time rolling around the kitchen with Rex.

‘He loves doggy company,’ Clara said. ‘I think it’ll do him the world of good to go out with Lesley and her other dogs.’

‘The best thing for him,’ Jude agreed. ‘You’re doing a brilliant job with him already though and I’m sure he’ll be a completely different dog in no time.’

Clara looked relieved at the thought. ‘I hope you’re right.’

‘And I mean it, if you’re ever stuck with him then do shout. Margot asked me to keep hold of a key to your cottage whilst it was empty and I’ve still got it. If you’re happy for me to keep it then I can let myself in and pick Rex up for a walk now and again.’

‘That would be absolutely amazing, just as a backup, of course.’ Clara picked up her mug and took a sip. ‘Eurgh, the tea’s gone cold. Let me make another pot.’

‘Actually, I’d better get back to the farm and I’ve still got to get into town for a couple of things.’ Jude gave a sharp whistle and Pip and Alfie came to join her by the door. ‘Let me know how you get on with Lesley.’

‘Will do,’ said Clara. ‘Actually, if you’re heading into Malvern, I don’t suppose you could drop Andy’s wallet off, could you? I found it earlier and I was going to go over myself but I don’t really want to leave Rex on his own.’

Jude inwardly sighed. Why were there always so many things that needed to be fitted into her crazy life?

It was late in the afternoon when Jude walked through the fields and back into the yard. Lucy’s car was there which meant she’d collected Sebbie from school but before she went to see them Jude decided to go down to the campsite and check on Kerry.

The dogs skipped ahead of her, sniffing around the grass for anything interesting, as she went round the duck pond at the top of the drive and in through the top gate of the campsite.

It was still light out but autumn was pulling night a little closer as they headed towards the changing of the clocks when dark evenings really were going to kick in. Being in the west, Jude could see that the sun was low and there was already a light on in Kerry’s tent to compensate for it.

‘Knock knock,’ Jude called as she stood by the door of the tent.

There was a lot of rustling and then the door was unzipped and Kerry popped her head out.

‘Thanks for the sandwich,’ she said. ‘I guess it was you who left it on my bed for me?’

‘You’re welcome,’ said Jude. ‘You went out for a walk?’

‘Yeah, don’t be mad but I went into the village. I didn’t rob nothing though.’

Kerry looked worried but Jude her hands up to stop her. ‘It’s fine. Mrs James actually told me you’d been in to say sorry to her. That was a nice thing to do.’

‘Yeah, well. I’m not a baddun really.’ Kerry opened the flap of the tent widely and Jude could see paper, pens and books strewn across the single bed that dominated most of the tent. ‘Do you want to come in?’

As well as the bed, there was a tiny bedside table which had a lamp on it and Jude could see Kerry’s mobile charging next to it. Her duffle bag was lying open on the ground and there was perhaps just enough room left over for Jude to sit down if she tucked herself in.

‘It’s really a tent for one,’ Jude said. ‘But I wondered if you wanted to come with me to see the animals. I need to put them to bed for the night and thought you might like to meet them. They’re great company for whilst you’re here on the farm.’

Kerry’s eyes lit up. ‘I love animals. Let me just put my trainers on.’

Animals, it seemed, loved Kerry too. Pip and Alfie wagged their tails wildly as she came out of her tent and bent down to give them a stroke.

‘What are they called?’ Kerry asked.

‘This one is Pip, she’s the eldest by a good few years. And Alfie here is still a puppy really but I’ve been training him up to be a working sheepdog and he’s doing pretty well.’

‘You’re gorgeous, you are.’ The dogs responded by nuzzling into her and demanding more attention.

‘Come on, you pair,’ Jude said. ‘It’ll be dark before we’re done at this rate.’

Jude led the way to the paddock next to the campsite where the petting animals lived.

‘I asked around a bit today but nobody in the village has heard of your friend Stanny, I’m afraid.’

‘It’s all right. He’s not really a friend of mine. But he does give me money to do easy things for him, and I could really do with some money.’

Jude didn’t like the sound of this at all. ‘What sort of things?’ she asked.

‘Oh, look at your face.’ Kerry pointed to Jude and laughed. ‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing dodgy. He just gets me to call a few people up with messages, and he sometimes gets parcels and stuff delivered to me because his girlfriend is well nosy.’

This sounded decidedly dodgy to Jude. ‘What sort of things?’

‘I don’t know, probably sexy magazines and stuff.’ She laughed again. ‘It ent my business.’

Jude tried to act coolly as she pushed the gate open into the paddock. The last thing she wanted was for Kerry to clam up if she thought Jude was being too pushy. She was desperate to ask about the little jobs that Stanny Riley had paid her to do but Kerry’s attention was taken away by a sheep and a goat who came charging over to say hello, closely followed by two curly-fleeced Valais Blacknoses.

‘Look at you guys.’ Kerry didn’t know which to pet first but Maud and Marlie pushed themselves forwards and demanded she noticed them. ‘You look like giant teddy bears.’

Jude was used to this reaction to her pedigree pet sheep and she had to agree. They were cute to the point of ridiculous and she had a feeling they not only knew it but played on it too.

‘Come on. I’ll take you to meet the rest of the gang.’

Kerry was so absorbed in the animals and the pure joy on her face made Jude smile so she decided to leave any further questions about Stanny Riley for a while.

‘Ent those ducks funny,’ Kerry said as Jude showed off Alfie’s newly mastered trick of rounding the Runner ducks up, under Jude’s clear commands, to escort them back to the stable.

‘Easy now,’ Jude said and he backed off just enough to allow them to troop inside where they knew they’d be rewarded with a little corn.

‘They’re Indian Runner ducks,’ Jude said as she closed the half door on them and then pulled the top half across to stop the foxes coming in for a midnight snack. ‘And those sheep hiding out under the tree there, the ones with the panda eyes, they’re my Kerry Hills.’

Kerry’s smile intensified as she looked at the four pretty sheep. ‘Like me,’ she said.

‘Exactly. We’ve got someone new joining us soon too. A pony that my friend Ally rescued.’

‘Nice. Will you get to ride it?’

Jude laughed. ‘No. He’s a tiny Shetland, not all that much bigger than those Valais sheep. He’s a lovely old boy but badly treated at his last home so Ally rescued him. She’s been looking after him for a bit but thinks he’d fit in perfectly with this lot.’

‘You do that a lot, don’t you?’ Kerry looked steadily at Jude. ‘Rescue poor animals what have come from bad homes. It’s kind.’

Jude wasn’t completely sure if Kerry was including herself in this. ‘You’re welcome to come in here any time you like,’ she said. ‘My neighbour, Mike, sometimes brings his book and sits in the stable. You could do the same with your study books if you want a change of scene.’

‘I’d like that, thank you.’

Whilst Kerry sat on an old oil drum, surrounded by animals, Jude was still thinking about Stanny Riley.

‘Not bad getting money for making phone calls,’ she said casually. ‘What sort of things does Stanny want you to say?’

‘Nothing much. He had me call up a couple of farmers to warn them that some idiots were bringing their dogs onto the farm, that sort of thing.’

Jude felt her heart race as she realised that it must have been Kerry who’d made the calls to Frank and Damien. If this had been done under the instruction of this Stanny Riley person then that catapulted him straight into the very middle of things. There was no reason for him to have got involved in the spat between the farmers and the walkers unless he already was involved somehow. As well as firmly mixing him in with the suspects for the murders, it also made Jude worry about Kerry’s safety and very glad that she hadn’t managed to find Stanny.

‘Didn’t you say that Stanny was a friend of your brother’s?’

‘Yeah. Can I feed the sheep?’ Kerry asked, far more interested in the animals than Jude’s enquiries into the dubious man she’d come to the village to find.

‘Sure.’ Jude went into the tack room and put a few sheep nuts into a bucket.

The animals had followed her, knowing what the tack room held, and she led them back over to Kerry who was still sitting on the oil drum. Jude lowered the bucket so Kerry could take out some of the nuts. ‘Just hold them out on your palm and they’ll eat straight from your hand.’

At the sound of the sheep nuts rattling in the bucket, even the shy Kerry Hills came over, although they weren’t bold enough to eat from Kerry’s hand in the same way as Pancake, Gertie and the Valais Blacknoses did.

‘It tickles.’ Kerry chuckled as Maud pushed her face into Kerry’s hand whilst Marlie tried to shunt her out of the way so she could have her turn.

‘How did Stanny and Jamie meet?’ Jude asked.

‘What is this?’ Kerry’s face dropped as she looked over her shoulder.

‘I’m just interested.’

Kerry stood up and brushed the crumbs from her hands. ‘They met in prison, okay?’

Jude was surprised at how quickly Kerry’s temperament had turned from relaxed and happy to bristly and suspicious.

‘Sorry,’ Jude said quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to pry. But perhaps be a little bit careful where he’s concerned. Maybe it’s better that you didn’t find him.’

‘I know you’re being nice and all but this ent nothing to do with you.’

‘I just want to you to be safe and I’m not sure I trust this Stanny.’

‘What do you know of him other than I just told you he’s bin in prison?’ Kerry looked furious. ‘You’re okay with your big fancy house and all your stuff and that, but it ent like that for all of us. Sometimes people like Stanny and Jamie do shit that lands them in trouble just ’cos they ent got so many choices as you.’

Jude thought about Malvern Farm, with its wonky floorboards, draughty windows and ancient furniture. It would never win any prizes for interior design, and the list of things that needed patching up, replacing or just getting rid of was enormous. But it was home and Kerry was right, it was full of all the essential parts of life that perhaps she took for granted. Food in the cupboards, logs by the fire, freedom to think and a family that looked after each other.

‘I didn’t mean to sound as though I was judging you or Jamie,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry if I was.’

‘Whatever.’ The friendly Kerry who had just been playing with the animals had clearly disappeared and the petulant, defensive version Jude had met at the start was back. ‘I got work to do so if it’s okay with you then I’m going back to my tent.’

‘Kerry—’ Jude watched her go, knowing that chasing after her would probably only make things worse. She understood that Kerry needed time to cool off.

Jude checked that she’d latched the ducks’ stable properly and that there was plenty of water in the trough for the sheep. Mike must have been in as not only was the trough full but there was an enormous amount of fresh straw in the stable. She’d have to have a word with him as, whilst it was brilliant that he took care of the animals, he was getting through the straw like nobody’s business and even though they’d had a good harvest that year, they needed their stocks to last them through to the other side of lambing.

The paddock animals sorted for the night, Jude whistled for Pip and Alfie who’d taken their opportunity to sniff around the paddock, hoovering up the last few sheep nuts. Then they set off back to the farmhouse.

Jude was itchy to get on to the computer and search for anyone called Stanny Riley. If she was right then he could well be the key to solving the murders of Becka and Joyce.

20

Of course, being a part of a busy family meant that things didn’t always pan out quite as Jude had planned and the investigation files had to wait. As soon as she got home, there was a myriad of chores to do and she’d just pulled the plug out of the kitchen sink after washing up the supper things when Binnie called.

‘Hey, Binnie. How was your day?’ Jude took the phone into the sitting room to collapse for a while onto the sofa, only to discover that the cushions were missing.

‘Interesting,’ Binnie replied. ‘Is now a good time?’

Jude went up the steps into the office where the computer was still on and sat down at the desk. Glancing through the door into the playroom she found the sofa cushions which were being used to prop up the blanket roof of Sebbie’s den.

‘Absolutely. Have you got something new to tell me?’

‘The team have been looking into the case against Emancy Ltd and why it was only George Clay who was arrested. Phil always claimed he had nothing to do with the fraudulent activity and we can find nothing that says otherwise.’

‘What about the files on Becka’s hard drive?’ Jude asked. ‘Did they throw anything new up?’

‘Not about Emancy, no. But it seems Becka had serious misgivings with the way Phil was handling Joyce’s affairs, and rightly so. Although nothing he did was illegal, the ethics of some of his high-risk advice was dubious. It seems he had the policy of high risk, high gain. Except it wasn’t his money that he was risking.’

‘He was using Joyce’s money to play the stock market?’ Jude was absent-mindedly twisting an elastic band between her fingers.

‘Not just Joyce’s money but also his grandmother’s.’

Jude thought back to lunch at Hampton Court when she’d sat with Phylis Mason and had listened to her talk about how proud she was of her grandson. It made her fume to think that someone like Phil was able to take so much from the two women who’d brought him up and given him the means to be able to go to university and set up his own company. She knew he’d been dropped from the heady heights of a successful London life when he’d suffered the double loss of his marriage and his business, but Joyce had taken him in and trusted him. It seemed he’d repaid her by placing her pension pot in the lap of the stock market gods.

And was that the worst thing he’d done, or was he capable of more?

‘Becka clearly knew what he was up to,’ said Jude, ‘so it stands to reason that this was what she’d wanted to tell Joyce about on the day she was killed.’

‘Potentially, yes.’

‘Do you think Phil knew this and ran her off the road before she had the chance to spill the beans?’ The elastic band pinged off Jude’s fingers and shot across the desk where it landed on a stack of papers. She leant over to retrieve it and saw the list of names she’d printed out of the people Becka had been to school with. Whilst she listened to Binnie, she ran her eyes down it again, searching for a clue but finding none.

‘I knew this would be the conclusion you’d jump to and of course it does add up.’ Binnie spoke carefully and Jude knew that her job meant dissecting all the facts before making grand pronouncements. ‘We got in touch with the garage that Phil’s car was sent to for its MOT and they confirmed his story. There was no other damage to the car, certainly nothing that would suggest it had been in a collision. It did fail the MOT, not only on the suspension as he said but a host of other things as well. It was an old car so Phil asked them to scrap it.’

‘When was this?’ Jude asked.

‘Yesterday, I believe.’

‘Flo saw him driving a brand-new car this morning,’ Jude said. ‘I assume he was the only person to gain from Joyce’s will seeing as she had no other family other than Phylis?’

With her mother in the twilight years of life, Joyce would almost certainly not have left her money to her, therefore Phil could have a double motive to have killed Joyce. The will was only a part of it because if she and Binnie had joined the dots correctly, and Phil had a reason to want to silence Becka, then there was a good chance that ex-detective Joyce Mason had also made the same connection. Had she confronted her nephew and been killed for her efforts? Or perhaps she’d suspected him of running Becka off the road and spoken to Phil about it.

‘Jude, be careful. I know what it looks like on the surface but surely you realise that these things are very rarely surface deep.’

‘Maybe.’ Jude knew that Binnie was right. Phil definitely had the most to gain from Joyce’s death, and he was possibly already enjoying the money that he knew would be coming his way once probate went through. But what evidence did they have to pin on him? And he wasn’t the only person who’d been acting suspiciously since the murders.

‘I went for a walk with Clara today.’ Jude slid the elastic band over her fingers again and started flicking it gently. ‘Flo and Brian came as well and he had a nasty turn when we got back to Clara’s house.’

‘Nasty turn?’

‘Binnie, it was awful actually. At first, I thought he’d been poisoned too as he reacted in the same way Joyce had. He was sweating like a marathon runner and grabbing at his collar as though he couldn’t breathe. Then he passed out completely and whacked his head as he fell.’

Jude heard Binnie gasp. ‘How is he now?’

‘We called for an ambulance but by the time it got there, he’d come round and seemed okay. It was odd though because he was adamant that he didn’t want to go to hospital to be checked over properly.’

‘Didn’t Flo insist?’ Binnie asked. ‘After what happened to Joyce, I’d have thought she’d have frogmarched him there herself.’

‘That’s what I thought too, especially as he’d hit his head. But no, she seemed just as keen to take him home as he was to go. And she was really weird with Clara and me as well. She told us that we should look after ourselves, almost as though she was planning on going into hibernation and wouldn’t be seeing us again for a while.’

‘How strange. I’ll pop over tomorrow to see if they’re okay.’

‘There’s one more thing, before you go. A new name for you to look into.’ Jude put the elastic band down and wiggled the computer mouse so that her previous internet search jumped back onto the screen. ‘Stanny Riley. Or perhaps Stanley, or Stan.’

Jude heard the rustle of paper as Binnie found something to write the name on.

‘Where does this name fit in?’ she asked.

‘I found the girl who made those phone calls to Damien and Frank. Turns out she was paid to make them by someone called Stanny Riley. He’s a friend of her brother’s and they met in prison.’

‘Interesting,’ said Binnie. ‘Do you know the name of the brother?’

‘Jamie, but I don’t have a surname. He’s still serving his time now but Kerry didn’t mention what for other than she thought he’d been dealt with unfairly.’

‘Kerry being the sister?’

‘That’s right. I was wondering if there might be some kind of link between this Stanny Riley and George Clay. Can you find out if they were in the same prison?’

‘I can certainly look into it. You think he might be working with Phil on the outside as well?’

‘It’s not the daftest suggestion, is it? Given the situation we’ve got,’ said Jude. ‘And what if Becka and Joyce found proof?’

Jude knew she was getting carried away but there was so little to go on and Stanny Riley seemed to be the one solid link she had.

‘Look, it’s getting late now but I’ll run some enquiries first thing in the morning. Until then, take off your detective hat for the night and get some rest.’

‘Like you, you mean?’ Jude laughed at the thought of either of them taking time to rest, especially when there was a murder investigation going on.

Jude stayed up into the night, scrolling through old Malvern Gazette reports from the past few years in the hope of finding anything mentioning a Stanny Riley but there was nothing. It would be much easier to track him down if they knew which prison he’d been in, and to do that they needed to talk to Kerry’s brother, Jamie.

The following morning, Jude had been out to check the sheep, walk the dogs and dropped Sebbie off at school before she went down to the campsite to speak with Kerry.

Annoyingly, she wasn’t in her tent, and there was no sign of her in the washing area. Feeling a little twitchy about the girl’s safety knowing that she’d been looking for someone who Jude felt was surely tangled up in the murders of two women, Jude went back to the tent. She called through the canvas once more before unzipping the door a little and peeking inside.

Kerry was definitely not in, but her stuff was spread out over the bed and piled on the floor so she couldn’t have gone all that far, especially with no money to her name. Jude wondered if she’d had any breakfast and made a mental note to pop back later with some basic food supplies to keep her going. Then she went into the paddock on the off-chance Kerry was there talking to the animals again but only the sheep, ducks and Gertie the Golden Guernsey were rootling in the grass and enjoying the morning sun.

Jude thought about the last, less than friendly exchange that had happened next to the stables, when Kerry had thought Jude had been judging her and her family and friends harshly. Keen to make amends, she decided to put the food parcel together with a note to leave in Kerry’s tent for her to find when she came back.

It didn’t take long to find the old chiller box and fill it with a bottle of milk and some fruit, cheese and half a quiche that Lucy had picked up from the farm shop. Jude added four bread rolls and a new pat of butter and then threw a big pack of crisps and a bar of Tony’s chocolate in for good measure. Remembering to include a plate and a knife, she put the lid on and sat down to write a note.

Kerry still wasn’t in her tent when she got there so Jude put the cold box and note inside and then went back to the yard where she unlocked her ancient Land Rover County 110 and climbed up behind the steering wheel. She had a few things she needed to get from the supermarket and she thought it would be a nice idea to visit Granny Margot whilst she was in town.

As she drove up the steep incline of Croft Bank, Jude found herself anxiously hoping that Kerry would be back at the campsite by the time she got home.

Perrins House was peculiarly quiet when Jude let herself into the hallway and signed the visitors’ book. As she was about to ring the little bell on the desk to announce her arrival, Gerwain walked down the corridor pushing a trolley that contained what looked like little paper bags of popcorn and a couple of large bottles of Coke.

‘Good morning, Jude,’ Gerwain greeted her. ‘Have you come for a Brief Encounter?’

‘Pardon?’

Gerwain nudged the door of the day room open and Jude peered in, instantly realising why the place was so still.

The pensioners were all being treated to a movie in the day room which had been turned into a cinema by shutting all the curtains to make it as dark as possible and lining the chairs up in rows so that everyone could see the projector screen at the end of the room. Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson were filling the screen in all their golden-age black and white glory and everyone was transfixed.

‘Don’t let me disturb you,’ said Jude. ‘I just came for a chat with Margot but I’ll come back later.’

Gerwain looked at Jude with a crooked eyebrow that told her she should know better. ‘Do you really think our Margot would choose to sit in the dark on a morning like this?’

Jude smiled. ‘Is she in the garden?’

‘Last seen in the conservatory, I believe.’ He reached down to pick up two pink stripy paper bags and passed them to Jude. ‘Here, take her some popcorn.’

Granny Margot was sitting in a sunray, surrounded by plants and flowers when Jude found her, looking as though she might have been about to nod off. A paperback copy of a well-thumbed Mills & Boon novel was lying splayed open on the table in front of her, showing off the dated cover of a lion stalking a couple lost in an embrace.

‘Jude!’ Her whole face lit up when she saw her. ‘What a wonderful surprise.’

She plumped the cushions on the other half of the wicker two-seater and made space for Jude.

‘Come and talk to me,’ she said. ‘What can you tell me about Phylis’s daughter?’

In typical Granny Margot form, there was no mincing of her words.

‘I assume you know Joyce was poisoned,’ said Jude as she laid the paper bags of popcorn on the table next to the book with the slightly alarming title Take Me! Break Me!

‘Oh, yes,’ said Granny Margot. ‘Phylis has been beside herself, poor love. She can’t imagine why anyone would have wanted to harm her child. But I suspect you and Binnie already have a list.’

It was hard to imagine that the hard-nosed iron lady who’d run the Malvern Roaming and Rambling Society had ever been a child, but of course to Phylis, she was her baby. Jude knew she’d lost her first daughter when Phil was tiny and now to lose a second in such a horrific way seemed beyond cruel.

‘We’re working on it,’ she said.

Granny Margot shuffled a little so that she was facing Jude. ‘And is Phylis’s grandson on your list?’ She looked disapproving as she mentioned Phil.

‘What makes you ask?’

‘I find myself suspicious of the sort of man who visits his grandmother just days after her daughter died and chooses to talk about nothing but money and the contents of wills.’

Although this didn’t altogether surprise Jude, she wondered how Granny Margot could be so sure.

‘Because I was sitting next to them when he came in this morning,’ Granny Margot said when Jude asked the question. ‘But of course people like that think that old women like me don’t hear things. Or that if we do, we’re too uninterested or stupid to know what to make of them.’

‘More fool him,’ said Jude. ‘So, what exactly did they talk about?’

‘He was very interested in Joyce’s will, Phylis’s too, which I thought was in very poor taste considering she is still very much alive, God bless her.’ Granny Margot put the flats of her palms together and looked over them at Jude. ‘He gets the lot. Everything Joyce owned will be his and everything Phylis has too once she departs this world. Every penny of it will go straight to Philip Mason. Now tell me that isn’t a good enough motive for murder.’

‘It is indeed,’ sighed Jude. ‘But Binnie has already spoken to Phil and there’s nothing in the way of evidence to warrant arresting him. He’s been underhand in his dealings with Joyce’s and Phylis’s investments but nothing illegal. Do you think we should tell Phylis?’

Granny Margot screwed up her face before exhaling deeply. ‘No. I don’t think she’d believe us, poor dear. But you keep digging around, Jude. He’s bound to have made a mistake somewhere.’

‘If it’s him,’ said Jude. ‘But he’s not the only person we’re interested in. Do you happen to know the name Stanny Riley? He may have lived in the village at some point.’

Granny Margot’s forehead crinkled beneath her thick silver-grey fringe. ‘No, that’s not a name I recognise.’

Jude sighed. ‘Nobody seems to know him and the internet is a complete blank, but we really need to track him down as I have a feeling he’s tightly woven into everything that’s happened. He clearly had an interest in disrupting the walking group which makes me think he must have been involved somehow, except nobody has heard of him.’

Granny Margot leant back on the cushions and folded her arms across her chest.

‘Well, names aren’t always the label of a person, are they? Or at least someone may choose to have more than one, should it be useful to them.’

Jude thought about what Granny Margot was saying.

‘You think that Stanny Riley might have been under our noses all the time but using a different name?’

‘It’s easy enough to make up a name and give oneself a new identity.’ Granny Margot pushed her glasses up her nose and looked earnestly through them. ‘If I wanted to be Georgia VonCleef then I could just tell everyone I’ve met that’s who I am and bingo. What reason would they have to think I was anyone other than who I claimed to be?’

Granny Margot had a point, and if she was right and Stanny Riley was living his life as two different people then that meant the walkers may already know him. He could even be a part of the group.

She thought about Kerry’s reason for coming to Malvern End: to look for Stanny. Someone had told her they’d seen him in The Lamb. Could that have been the day they were all there for lunch? Damien too?

‘What do we know about this Stanny?’ Granny Margot asked.

‘Not much,’ Jude replied. ‘We know he’s been in prison with Kerry’s brother and we know he must be a man as prisons are all single sex. Which discounts Clara and Flo.’

‘Maybe.’ Granny Margot looked thoughtful. ‘Although they could have been working alongside him. Flo with Brian or Clara perhaps with Andy?’

‘It seems so unlikely.’ Jude pictured the two women, both so gentle and sweet.

‘Don’t mistake the unlikely for the impossible,’ said Granny Margot. ‘Now let’s go back to this Stanny for a minute, shall we? We know it can’t be Phil as he’s never been in prison, but you said Damien has been inside, for ABH?’

‘That’s right,’ said Jude. ‘But I don’t think he can be Stanny. If he’d discovered the walkers were going to be going through the farm again, why would he have phoned Frank? And the second call was made to Damien anyway, or at least he said it was.’

‘We know people lie,’ said Granny Margot. ‘Damien could have all sorts of reasons for wanting Kerry to make those calls.’

‘Like what?’ Jude asked.

‘I’m not sure yet.’ Granny Margot looked pensive.

‘What about Andy?’ Jude said. ‘He knew a lot about the inside of prisons. It’s all there in his books apparently, but do you think that could be down to a stint as a prisoner rather than a prison officer as he pretended?’

‘It’s definitely possible,’ said Margot. ‘Which leaves us with Brian, the only other man in the group.’

Jude thought about lovely Brian, but that was a stretch too far. Or was it? He had been very cagey about going into hospital. Was he trying to protect his identity for some reason?

‘I really need to talk to Kerry,’ said Jude. ‘If Stanny is one of the walkers then she can identify him from the photo Clara took when we stopped at the Chase pub.’

‘If she’s willing to, that is.’ Granny Margot leant across and picked up one of the bags of popcorn. ‘But she’ll only do that if you tread carefully and don’t make it sound as though you want to get him into trouble. In the meantime, let’s look at motives. They usually tell you what you need to know. So, who have we got?’

Jude nodded. ‘Phil you know about, but any one of the others might have the motive to kill if Becka and Joyce had discovered something about them during their investigations. Becka was killed on the day she told Joyce she had something to tell her. She mentioned it in the car park when any of the walkers might have heard her.’

‘You already mentioned that you thought Becka was trying to tell someone that she knew their secret during her little game about superpowers.’

‘That’s right,’ said Jude, who never stopped being surprised by the acuteness of Granny Margot’s memory. ‘The walkers are definitely in the mix still, as is Damien who really hated Becka. Frank told us that when his girlfriend finished with him, he went on a month-long bender that ended up in him bashing the landlord with a stool and landing himself in prison for ABH. Someone like that I can see getting angry enough to drive Becka off the edge of the road. If Joyce worked that out somehow and confronted him then he could have slipped the cyanide into her water bottle when he came to the pub just before she died.’

Granny Margot was working her way through the bag of popcorn and nodded as Jude marked her suspects off on her fingers.

‘Then there’s Clara, who you said was obviously in love with Andy but convinced that he was already in a relationship with Becka,’ said Granny Margot. ‘Perhaps she’s the jealous type and wanted Becka out of the way.’

‘If so, it worked as she and Andy are now dating,’ said Jude. ‘But I just can’t imagine it.’

‘Well, they do say that poisons are the weapon of choice for a jilted or jealous woman.’ Granny Margot folded up the empty paper bag and put it down on the table. ‘It’s in all the old crime novels.’

‘Yes, but Becka wasn’t poisoned, Joyce was.’

The two deaths couldn’t have been more different. One a violent and terrible act of rage, the other cold and calculated. It was almost as though they hadn’t been carried out by the same person.

‘Do we go back to the theory then that Becka’s death was an act of passion and Joyce’s a premeditated way of getting rid of someone who was on the verge of uncovering the truth?’ Granny Margot asked.

Jude sighed. ‘If only we knew exactly what Becka had been doing in between leaving us, and Binnie and I discovering her half an hour later. But that’s it. Apart from Flo and Brian, who we’ve already talked about, those are our suspects.’

Granny Margot picked up the second bag of popcorn. ‘You’ve forgotten Joyce,’ she said as she offered it to Jude.

Jude shook her head. ‘Joyce?’

‘Of course. If anyone knew what Becka was investigating then it would have been her. Have you considered that Becka found something out about Joyce and Joyce herself was the one to run her off the road?’

Jude felt her eyes open wide in surprise at the thought. ‘But then who would have killed Joyce?’

‘Any one of them,’ said Granny Margot. ‘For all the reasons you’ve just said or perhaps to get revenge for Becka’s death.’

As usual when Jude spoke to Granny Margot about these things, she was in grave danger of being overwhelmed by the new twists and possibilities that Granny Margot helped her to conjure up. There was so much to think about and mull over and she was starting to lose track of all the different threads. But first she needed to get back and talk to Kerry to see if she could help identify exactly who Stanny Riley was.

Jude decided to take a flask of tea down with her when she went to see Kerry. She thought it might help her study and also be a good way of apologising for her perceived insensitivity the day before when she’d said Kerry should be wary of Stanny Riley. She just hoped she hadn’t scuppered her chances of Kerry being honest about him and his identity.

The tent was quiet again when Jude reached it and she called out Kerry’s name.

When there was no answer, she started to worry. The girl had no money, nowhere else to go and there was little around for her to do in Malvern End. If she wasn’t in the tent then where was she? Had she been back at all since Jude had dropped the food off?

‘Kerry, I’m coming in,’ Jude said to the silent tent.

The inside was immaculate. The blanket folded up neatly on the end of the bed, now clear of any study books and stationery, and the floor cleared except for the cool box that Jude had put there earlier that day.

There was a note on top of the box with Jude’s name written on it in fuchsia-pink gel pen. Her pulse was racing as she snatched it up, hopeful that Kerry’s sudden disappearance was down to the fact that she’d patched things up with her parents and gone home. But any hope turned to fear when she read the short message.

Thanks for being so awesome.

I’ve found Stanny so going to stay with him.

Will come and see you soon to say goodbye properly. Love Kerry. Xx

21

Scanning the note a second time, Jude perched on the end of the bed, furious with herself that she hadn’t made sure she’d told Kerry about her concerns that morning.

Of course, she had no proof that this man she’d gone off with had killed either Joyce or Becka, but he had to be involved somehow. Both calls that he’d paid Kerry to make were on the days one of the walking group had been killed, and both were out to cause trouble between the farmers and the walkers.

It was possible that trouble was all he had ever wanted to cause. Perhaps a farmer who was sick of right-to-roamers crossing their land and causing problems with their crops or livestock who knew that Damien was the right person to shake them up. There were plenty of those about. But if the calls had nothing to do with the murders then the timing of the deaths was coincidental and Jude never trusted coincidences.

Jude had to work on the assumption that there was a direct link between the calls Kerry had been paid to make and the deaths. And that led her back to the walkers themselves and Damien Hawker. Was Granny Margot right and one of them was going under a pseudonym? Or had someone hired Stanny, fresh from prison, to do their dirty work for them?

As she sat, staring at the note, Jude was angry with herself for not finding out Kerry’s surname when she’d had the chance. Without it, she had very little chance of tracking down her parents or her brother. She thought about poor, naïve Kerry, young and desperate which made her such easy prey, and felt a sickening ball of worry congeal in her stomach.

‘How did he find you?’ Jude said to Kerry’s note. ‘Did he know to look for you here, or did you walk back into the village and see him there?’

She thought of Granny Margot’s remark about creating new names and identities. Could the elusive Stanny Riley be someone living in Malvern End? Jude knew just about everyone in the village and nobody jumped out at her. Clara was new but there was little chance of Kerry confusing her with a man called Stanny who’d recently been released from prison.

Something was itching Jude’s brain as though she had all the links but just hadn’t connected them together properly yet.

Stanny Riley. Brian’s fainting episode and Flo’s strange behaviour. Kerry’s arrival and quick departure. Stints in prison. Changing names. Becka and Joyce’s investigations.

And then another memory clicked into focus: Marco’s certainty that Brian had been called Keith. Not a name that sounded at all similar to Brian and yet he was sure he’d heard Flo call him Keith when they were all at The Lamb before Joyce’s last walk.

Keith. That name rang another bell too. Jude had heard it somewhere else recently, but where?

Jude retraced the events that happened before Brian’s collapse. She’d assumed that it had been poisoning at first but he had recovered too quickly for that. The paramedics had suggested it was nothing more than a fainting attack, perhaps brought on by the exercise and not enough food or water. This would make sense, especially when linked to Brian’s self-confessed tendency to low blood pressure.

Was it possible though that what Brian had experienced was in fact a panic attack? Jude remembered telling Mrs James about Stanny Riley whilst they were all at the village shop together. Had the mention of this name panicked Brian because he himself was Stanny Riley? Or did he know him?

Jude felt a rush of heat flood upwards as she remembered what else she and Mrs James had spoken about that day whilst Brian and Flo were listening. She had told Mrs James that Kerry was staying at the campsite for the time being.

‘Holy cow, what if I led him right to her?’

It seemed so unlikely that the mild, kind man who was besotted with his equally lovely wife could be tangled up in all of this, and yet Jude had known stranger things happen.

‘Keith,’ Jude whispered to herself. ‘Where do you come in, Keith?’

She leant forwards and rested her forehead in her hands, trying to focus on the dots of memories that taunted her by dancing just outside her grasp.

After a while, she stood and picked up the cool box. She couldn’t iron this out on her own. She needed to get back to the farmhouse to call Binnie and take another look at the files. Had there been a Keith on Becka’s school list? Brian was far too old to have been in the same class as her, but had he perhaps been the teacher in the picture?

As she stepped outside of the tent, it suddenly hit her and she knew exactly where she’d seen the name Keith before.

If it had been a panic attack then it would have to have been a pretty delayed one to have been linked to what he’d heard outside the village shop. It had happened back at Clara’s house when they’d been discussing Joyce’s investigations, specifically the case of the Yorkshire man who’d burnt down a warehouse with his boss inside. And Jude was almost certain the man had been called Keith.

‘He was the arsonist,’ she said out loud as realisation made her ears throb with certainty.

‘Sorry?’ A voice on the other side of the tent made her jump and she looked across to see a couple decked out in sensible walking gear with poles and sturdy backpacks.

‘Goodness!’ Jude clamped a hand to her chest. ‘You gave me a jump. Sorry, I was just thinking about a book I’ve been reading. Um. Yes, sorry. Are you here to hire a tent?’

It turned out that Geeta and Rohan already had a booking and it didn’t take long for Jude to show them around and give them the key to their shepherd’s hut. Once they were happily ensconced, she power-walked back to the farmhouse and pulled her phone from the charging cable in the kitchen to call Binnie.

‘Jude?’ Binnie said. ‘Ev… ing… kay?’

‘What?’ Jude looked at the screen and saw that she had plenty of signal so the crackly line must be on Binnie’s side. ‘Binnie, can you hear me?’

‘Of… fin… Sam…’

‘Binnie, you’re cutting out. Not sure if you can hear this but call me when you’ve got better signal. I think I might have something interesting.’

Binnie had gone before Jude had finished so she sent a text to the same effect and then went into the office to find out what she could about the possible link between Brian and the arsonist from Leeds.

Jude cursed the sluggish computer as it whirred and objected to being asked to work. It was like some stroppy teenager, which stood to reason as it was probably nearing that age.

As soon as it allowed her, Jude opened the files she’d taken from Joyce’s memory stick and chose the one about the arsonist from York. Keith Plante had served his time in Leeds Prison and had never tried to deny that he’d set fire to the warehouse. He had, however, always maintained that he’d thought it had been empty at the time. Not that this was any comfort to the family of the boss who’d burnt to death inside.

There were no pictures of Keith Plante in the files but when Jude ran a search, it only took a short while for a courtroom sketch to come up on her screen.

‘Got you,’ said Jude as she zoomed in on the face. It came with the caption Keith Plante awaiting the verdict but Jude knew him under another name: Brian Hubbard.

The doorbell rang and Jude was thinking of ignoring it but a quick look through the window showed her that it was Binnie and Sami, her friend and colleague, in a squad car.

‘Everything okay?’ Jude asked as she ushered them inside.

‘Apart from you living in a village that loses phone signal more than my esteemed boss here loses her car keys,’ said Sami with a mischievous grin.

Jude had got to know Sami over the last couple of years and she loved the way he affectionately toyed with Binnie. They made a fantastic working partnership and, although Binnie complained about him regularly, Jude knew she loved his company and trusted his professional opinion.

‘We were down in the village talking to some of the locals when you called,’ said Binnie. ‘Couldn’t make out a word you were saying so we thought we’d take a quick detour and catch up in person. Your text said something about finding something interesting?’

‘I think I’ve found a new motive for murder,’ said Jude.

‘I’d certainly say that counts as interesting,’ said Binnie. ‘What have you got?’

Jude led them both into the office where the laptop’s screen had given up waiting and switched itself off.

‘Brian Hubbard. He served time in Leeds Prison for arson and manslaughter, and Joyce knew about it.’ Jude wiggled the mouse to reignite the screen so that she could tap in her passcode again.

‘Was that on her files?’ Sami asked. ‘I went through them all and didn’t find anything about any of your walking group.’

‘You wouldn’t have because he changed his name. Do you remember seeing the case about the Yorkshire arsonist?’

‘I do,’ said Binnie. ‘Are you telling me that was Brian?’

The computer was ready for action and Jude brought up the picture of Brian or Keith Plante as she now knew him to be. ‘Look at this.’

Binnie and Sami craned their heads over Jude so they could read the article that accompanied the picture.

‘That’s him,’ said Binnie.

‘How did you figure it out, Jude?’ Sami asked.

‘A whole bunch of little things that added up to a hunch, I suppose.’

‘DI Khatri loves a good old-fashioned hunch, don’t you, Boss?’

‘Can it, Detective Sergeant,’ Binnie retorted. ‘But seriously Jude, in this instance – nice hunching.’

Jude swivelled her office chair around to face them. ‘The fact he spent time in prison has also made me wonder if he met Kerry’s brother there. I know it’s a long shot, but could you see if there are any inmates of Leeds Prison called James or Jamie?’

‘I take it you don’t have a surname for me yet then?’ said Binnie.

Jude shook her head, worry and frustration taking over again as she thought of Kerry.

‘Kerry left the campsite before I could speak with her. She left a note to say that she’s gone to stay with Stanny Riley.’

‘Do you think Brian and Stanny are the same person?’ Sami asked. ‘Or at least know each other?’

These were questions Jude had been asking herself. If Brian was already using one pseudonym, was it possible he also had another? And if not then was there another link between the two that might be key to understanding how Becka and Joyce were killed?

‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘I don’t know. But I have a very bad feeling that whoever this Stanny Riley is, Kerry could be in danger just by being with him.’

‘Right then,’ said Binnie, standing up abruptly. ‘Sami and I will get over to Brian’s house now and see what he has to say. Thanks for the tip-off.’

‘Never any time to just sit and have a chat with a friend, is there, Jude?’ Sami winked at her as he followed Binnie out of the office.

‘Call me if you find anything out,’ Jude shouted after them.

There was nothing for it but to wait and see what Binnie uncovered.

Although it was only a couple of hours before Binnie called Jude, it felt like an age. And when answers came, they weren’t really what she’d been hoping for and they certainly didn’t help make anything clearer.

Binnie and Sami had gone to Brian and Flo’s house but it was locked up and deserted. No sign of either of them or Hamble, and a neighbour reported seeing them packing suitcases into the car the day before. When the neighbour had asked them if they were off somewhere nice, they’d talked vaguely about a long-overdue visit to see an old friend.

Both Brian and Flo’s phones had been switched off and Jude felt sure they wouldn’t be switched on again any time soon.

As she got herself ready for bed that night, Jude thought about the manhunt that was currently going on for Brian. By disappearing, he certainly made it look as though he had something to run from, but was that murder?

And if so, why? What reason did he have for killing Joyce and Becka? The more she thought about it, the less sense it made. He’d committed a terrible crime and Joyce had almost certainly made the link, that was true. Perhaps she and Becka had confronted him about it, although there had been no visible signs of awkwardness when Jude had seen them together.

But he had paid his dues for what he’d done and had completed the sentence they’d given him. Jude knew how much both Brian and Flo loved their new lives, but would they kill if they thought this was in jeopardy? They’d both been very keen to stay away from the hospital where questions were bound to be asked about his identity.

Jude circled back to the old theory that Becka’s death had not been premeditated. That someone had been so angry with her that they’d acted in haste and caused a death they hadn’t intended. Had the Hubbards realised on the walk that Becka had been talking about Brian when she spoke of her incredible memory? Was it possible that they’d stopped somewhere on the way home to have a conversation with her about it and that had led to the anger needed to push her off the road to her death?

Jude rubbed moisturiser into the permanently weathered skin of her face as she tried to put everything she knew in order.

Joyce had been so desperate for her to find the memory stick with the details of Brian, or Keith’s, criminal case on it. Surely that meant that she believed it was him who was responsible for Becka’s death. If this was the case, then she would have had to be dealt with. Had Flo sneaked some cyanide into Joyce’s water to stop her voicing her suspicions about Brian? As Granny Margot had insinuated, poison was the weapon of choice for women or anyone for that matter who wanted someone gone in the least messy way possible.

But it had still been messy. Joyce’s death had left behind it a wake of confusion and Jude wasn’t sure if the link between Brian and Keith had just made things clearer or even muddier.

22

The many questions didn’t become any clearer overnight. In fact, Jude woke up from a restless sleep still turning them over. Could Brian really be the murderer? Was hiding a past crime that he’d already done his time for enough of a motive to kill again?

And what did he have to do with Stanny Riley and the phone calls Kerry had been paid to make? Had Stanny and Brian met in prison? But what reason could Brian possibly have for stirring things up with the farmers?

Jude got up before the sun and made a cup of coffee. She was desperate to call Binnie and find out if there was any news either on finding Kerry, Brian and Flo, or pinning Stanny Riley or Jamie to Leeds Prison where Brian had served his time. It was far too early so she took her coffee to the computer. There must be something she was missing and she wondered if it was hidden somewhere in Joyce and Becka’s investigative files.

They’d only been in her possession for a few days – a hugely busy few days at that – and she hadn’t had the chance to go through every single file in detail. Brian had been hidden there undetected so what else had she missed?

Jude set the hot mug down on her desk and turned the computer on. It was cold downstairs now that the log burner had burnt itself out so Jude went into the sitting room and grabbed a blanket which she wrapped around herself before starting the job of sifting through the files.

She began with those she’d copied from Joyce’s memory stick, deciding to be more methodical and starting with the first one, a cold case about the murder of a man in 1994 who’d been killed walking home after a night out at Images nightclub in Worcester. It was an unsolved case that Joyce had worked on with her partner, Detective Inspector Jim Dusk, and it was obviously one of those frustrations that Joyce wanted to put right in her retirement. The file was a large one and Jude’s heart sank. This was just one of many files, each one harbouring any amount of information, both obvious and hidden. How was she supposed to know when she found something of relevance?

Jude sat back and picked her coffee mug up, still full but left to go cold as she’d been so involved in her task.

‘Eurgh.’ She swallowed the unpleasant mouthful and got up to microwave the rest to a more palatable temperature.

She felt deflated from the sheer number of files and information that she wanted to sift through. Binnie would have someone working on them too but even so, what were the realistic chances that they’d find what they were looking for?

Joyce had been thorough in her investigations, something that – according to Binnie – she and Jim Dusk had had a reputation for. She remembered her saying that the pair of detectives were renowned for getting results at whatever cost.

The microwave pinged at the exact moment a fresh take on the murders pinged into Jude’s mind. There was an obvious link between the two deaths of Becka and Joyce but was it possible that there was a third murder in the mix? Jim Dusk had died a few months earlier falling from a ladder in his front garden. It had seemed nothing more than a tragic accident that had robbed a man and his widow of the retirement they’d earnt. But perhaps it hadn’t been an accident after all.

Maybe Jim and Joyce had been the true targets from the beginning, someone’s revenge for putting them behind bars. Maybe Becka was never supposed to get herself tangled up with the murderer, but she’d spotted something in her own investigations that had put her in the sights of the killer.

Jude looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was past six, early still but not so early that she couldn’t risk a text to Binnie. It was answered straight away with a phone call.

‘Morning, Jude,’ Binnie said. ‘I take it you couldn’t sleep either if you’ve already been awake long enough to have come up with a new hypothesis?’

‘I’m not convinced it was Brian and Flo,’ said Jude bluntly.

‘Despite the fact that we have a clear motive and they have fled with no forwarding address?’

‘I know what it looks like and of course there are plenty of questions to be asked when you do catch up with them but the motive seems, I don’t know – flaky.’

‘Flaky?’ said Binnie. ‘You’re going to have to give me more than that.’

‘I just think that there are other things we need to consider.’

‘Jude, if you think that I have closed the case and already tried and convicted the Hubbards then you couldn’t be further from the truth. They are one line of enquiry that we have open, and I would very much like to get them into the station to find out what the hell is going on but if you’ve got something new to tell me then spill.’

‘I tried wading through Joyce’s files again, wondering what else is hidden there but there’s so much stuff,’ said Jude.

‘She was definitely thorough. If I had the human resources, I’d have a team of officers trawling through every single detail of those files full time until the case is solved. Do I take it you found something though?’

‘Not so much found something as thought about something,’ said Jude. She told Binnie her theory that perhaps Jim Dusk had been pushed from his ladder and that the person doing the pushing had gone on to poison Joyce. ‘Poor Becka could have been collateral damage, killed just because she knew too much.’

‘It’s definitely worth looking into,’ said Binnie. ‘I’ll pull up the cases they worked on and see if anyone they’d put away has been released in the past few months.’

Jude took a warming slug of her reheated coffee. ‘I suppose there’s no news on Kerry?’ she asked. ‘I’m really worried about her.’

‘I’m afraid not. And we had no joy at Leeds Prison either. There’s no record of a Stanny Riley ever having been there, and there are no current inmates named James or Jamie.’

Jude felt deflated. They’d hit another dead end. She knew that Kerry wasn’t her responsibility and yet during her short stay on the campsite it had felt as though she’d been placed in her care somehow. Jude had suspected this Stanny character to be bad news from the start and yet she hadn’t done enough to warn Kerry to stay away from him. And now Kerry had gone skipping off with a suspect in two murders, possibly three. Jude felt sick at the thought of what he might do to Kerry. She was vulnerable and desperate, an easy target to use in his games. Or worse. What if she’d become a liability and he’d felt the need to dispose of her?

Jude shivered. The stakes were high and the information annoyingly low. She knew that they needed some sort of breakthrough soon if they wanted to get to Kerry before any more damage was done.

Jude spent the morning on the farm, her body busy with jobs but her mind was firmly fixed on Kerry and Stanny Riley. She tried to find something solid that she could build a new wave of thinking on. Anything that would help track Kerry down but she kept coming up with blanks. A call from Noah to say that someone from the village had reported a dog loose with the sheep in the field behind the school tore Jude’s thoughts away. Noah was still at Frank’s so it was down to Jude to run and fetch the quad and sort it out.

Luckily, this time there were no casualties, but it took her a while to round the dog up, tie a piece of baling twine to his collar, call the number on the tag and wait for the owner to arrive to claim it. By the time all was dealt with and Jude was parking the quad in the shed, Noah arrived back on the farm.

‘Everything okay?’ he said.

‘Just one more thing to deal with. But no damage.’

‘That’s good.’ Noah took a bag from the boot of his car. ‘You heading over to pick up the pony today?’

‘Ally’s expecting me in half an hour,’ said Jude. ‘I should get a shift on.’

‘Have some lunch first,’ said Noah. ‘It’s always the first thing to go when you’re busy.’

Jude smiled. ‘What would I do without you?’

‘You’d be absolutely fine,’ said Noah.

He walked away across the yard to get on with his jobs, leaving Jude standing with a sense of unease. Had Noah been giving her a hint that the time for her to have to cope without him on the farm was coming sooner than she’d thought? If he took over Frank’s tenancy as she feared he would, she wouldn’t be fine without him. How would she cope with the day-to-day jobs let alone the busy lambing season?

‘Stop it,’ she reprimanded herself out loud. It had been one innocent comment and she knew that trying to solve problems that hadn’t truly raised their heads yet was a mug’s game.

Jude took her phone out and sent Ally a text to warn her she’d be a little late as she hadn’t even got the trailer hitched up yet. There was a notification that a voice message from Binnie had come through and, as she walked across the yard towards the house, Jude held the phone to her ear.

‘Jude, I thought you’d want to know that there’s been a missing person reported this morning that fits Kerry’s description. The mum called it in after she couldn’t get hold of her. Her name’s Kerry Shepperton and she has a brother called Jamie, currently serving five years in Hewell Prison on the other side of Worcester for armed robbery.’

Jude stopped in her tracks and Binnie paused as Jude heard her saying good morning to someone. There was a small gap and Jude imagined her waiting until she couldn’t be overheard before she carried on.

‘Get this, Jamie Shepperton was sent down by Joyce, one of her last cases before she retired. Anyway, Sami and I are just on our way over to talk to him. I’ll obviously have my phone off when we’re there but will try and get you when we’re out.’

Jude let herself into the house and sat at the kitchen table for a moment.

Jamie Shepperton, Kerry’s brother, had a direct link to Joyce. Binnie hadn’t mentioned Inspector Jim Dusk; had he also been a part of the team who’d put Jamie in prison? What exactly did this mean with regards to the current murder investigation? The fact that Jamie was still inside meant that he couldn’t have killed Joyce, Dusk or Becka, but could he still have had something to do with it? Perhaps he’d contacted Stanny Riley somehow and was paying him to get his revenge. What better way to keep his hands clean than to do it whilst he had the most iron-clad alibi possible, the guards of Hewell Prison?

This made perfect sense to Jude and yet there was one element that she was loath to consider but couldn’t just ignore. If her latest theory was the right one and three people had died as the result of the actions of Jamie Shepperton and Stanny Riley, what role had Kerry played in it all? Was it possible Jude had been completely taken in by her? Kerry clearly loved her brother, enough to fall out with her parents over him. Did she love him enough to play a part in a revenge plan? She’d certainly been angry when she’d spoken to Jude about the police, and there was no denying she had a feisty temper. But was she capable of killing?

There was still so much to uncover but something told Jude they were getting close. She just hoped that they would find the answers before anything else happened.

23

Jude reversed the Land Rover up to the livestock trailer which she attached to the tow-bar, making sure that all the electrics were properly connected before setting off towards Castlemorton Common where Ally and her mum lived.

Jude loved driving across Castlemorton where the grazing sheep and cattle were free to roam the common land. But that day she hardly saw them, her mind was so caught up in the web of people linked to Joyce and Becka. Ally’s house was down a little track: a delightful old stone farmhouse surrounded by enough land for them to house several of their own horses as well as boarding stables.

The field on the left of the house had three ponies in it and Jude could see Rodney Trotter, the little straw-coloured Shetland, standing by the fence, chewing on some grass whilst he watched the world go by.

Before she went over to say hello to the latest resident of Malvern Farm, Jude went up to the house and knocked on the front door. Ally’s mum, Rosie, answered with a big smile on her face.

‘Hi, Rosie.’

‘Jude, come on in.’ She stepped to one side and Jude went into the wide hallway where she kicked off her mucky boots.

‘How are the pups?’ Jude asked. One of Ally’s top border collies had just given birth to her third litter of puppies and Jude was hoping to get a glimpse of them, although she knew they’d be too young for cuddles yet.

‘Ally’s in with them now,’ said Rosie. ‘Six healthy babies and we’ve already got homes for all of them.’

Rosie took Jude to a room at the back of the house where Ally was kneeling next to a whelping box in the corner.

‘Congratulations.’ Jude walked over to Ally, her heart melting into a soggy puddle as she saw the six tiny puppies with their eyes still shut next to their clever mum. ‘They’re absolutely gorgeous.’

‘I remember when Alfie and Ned were this size,’ said Ally, who’d bred Jude and Noah’s dogs. ‘And look at them now.’

Jude crouched down and gazed at the pups, soaking in the wonder of what nature was capable of. ‘All well?’ she asked.

‘All perfect,’ Ally smiled.

There were little mewing noises from the box as the dogs nudged up against their mum’s undercarriage looking for food.

‘And how are you, Jude?’ Ally asked. ‘I heard that another member of the walking group died over the weekend. Someone at Mum’s exercise class said it was murder. Is that true?’

Jude was pretty sure that the nature of Joyce’s death hadn’t been made public yet but it didn’t surprise her that the wider community had already heard about it. Malvern could be like that.

‘It looks that way,’ she said.

‘Mum got the impression that they’re looking for a connection to Becka’s car crash too.’

Jude and Ally had both gone to The Chase High School, although separated by a number of years, the same school that Becka had been at.

‘Did you know her?’ Jude asked.

‘Not really. She was in the year below me but I did know who she was.’

‘Blimey, you’ve got a better memory than I have,’ said Jude. ‘I can just about remember who was in the same class as me but would struggle to name anyone from other years.’

Ally chuckled. ‘My memory is terrible. I only remember Becka because she was head of the hockey team and I played with her for a very short while.’

One of the pups turned over and rolled away from his mother’s teat so Jude carefully picked him up and popped him back at the lunch buffet where he instantly latched on again.

‘You don’t remember anyone else from that year, do you?’ Jude asked. She thought about the list of names that she’d taken from Becka’s hard drive.

‘I didn’t really know all that many people in Becka’s year.’ Ally looked thoughtful. ‘There was one boy though, Royston Roileen, everyone knew him. He was notorious around school. He burnt the hockey shed down when he’d been smoking behind it, and I remember him setting off fireworks across the playground once.’ She demonstrated the trajectory of a rocket, not skywards as intended but straight forward into whatever might have been in its path.

But it wasn’t the fireworks that made Jude’s ears prick up, it was the name, Royston Roileen. Jude recognised it as being one of the people on Becka’s list, but it wasn’t until she heard Ally say the name aloud that it resonated. The vowels of his surname, Roileen, rolled together and the N almost disappeared from the end. It was the same way Kerry, with her strong three counties accent, had pronounced Riley. Except perhaps she’d never been saying Riley. Maybe it had been Roileen all along.

‘Were there any other Roileens at The Chase?’ Jude asked.

Ally’s brow furrowed in concentration. ‘I think he had a brother. Why?’

‘He wasn’t called Stanny, was he?’ Jude felt as though she was sitting on the edge of a revelation.

‘I can’t remember what the brother was called,’ said Ally. ‘But Royston wanted everyone to call him Stan, something to do with the Eminem song, I think. I know this because when the teachers refused to call him anything other than Royston, he brought a can of spray paint to school and wrote Stan in massive letters on the school playground and again on the wall of the English block. I think that’s when they finally expelled him.’

Jude could feel her spine tingle. Surely it wouldn’t take Binnie any time to track Kerry’s elusive Stanny down now that they had his real name.

‘Do you know what happened to him?’ she asked.

‘I’d spot his name in the Malvern Gazette now and again as he was always being arrested for petty crime. In the end though I think I read he’d been done for something much bigger and was in prison for quite a hefty spell.’

Jude sat back on her ankles and squashed the urge to jump up and run from the room so she could drive back to the farmhouse.

‘You don’t think he’s caught up in Becka’s death for some reason, do you?’ Ally asked.

Jude did. Of course she did. Everything was telling Jude that Royston, or Stanny, Roileen was the killer. Either because he’d found out that Joyce and Becka were investigating him for some new crime or, more likely in Jude’s eyes, he was getting his revenge on the people who’d put him behind bars in the first place. It made perfect sense. Roileen had been released from a lengthy stint and reacted by first pushing Inspector Dusk off his ladder, then poisoning Joyce. Becka must have died because she’d recognised him from her school days. And now he had Kerry too, but for what purpose?

Jude hoped that Stanny’s connection to Jamie Shepperton might be enough to keep Kerry safe, but with someone as reckless as the killer they were dealing with, she wouldn’t stake her farm on it.

‘I’m so sorry, Ally, but I’m going to have to get going.’ Jude stood up.

Ally followed suit. ‘Royston Roileen’s important, isn’t he?’

‘I think he might be, yes.’ Jude was aware she was being a little blunt but her mind was spinning and she was desperate to talk to Binnie.

‘Come on.’ Ally walked back out towards the kitchen. ‘Rodney is a such a good boy. We’ll have him in the trailer in no time and you can get on with whatever you need to be doing.’

‘Thank you.’ Jude was grateful not just for Ally’s understanding, but also for the fact that she didn’t feel the need to probe into Jude’s interest in Roileen any further. She looked at her phone but there was no signal so she put it away again. One thing at a time. Binnie could wait until Rodney was safely in transit.

Just as Ally had promised, Rodney had been happy enough to let her slip a halter over his head and be led up the ramp into the trailer where Jude had tied a hay net.

Knowing the exact place on the road through the common that usually meant phone signal kicked in, Jude pulled over and dialled Binnie’s number. As it went to voicemail, she remembered that Binnie and Sami were visiting Jamie Shepperton in prison and would probably be talking to him right at that moment.

She switched off and sent her a text instead that simply said CALL ME in capital letters.

As she drove off, Jude dissected everything she now knew to be true and layered on what she suspected but had no proof of. In her mind there was no doubt that Royston, or Stanny, Roileen was involved in the deaths of Inspector Dusk, Joyce and Becka. The trouble was that this didn’t bring her to the end of the investigation as there were still unanswered questions.

If Roileen was behind the murders then how did this fit with the walking group? Was he working with one of the others, or for one of them? Was there still perhaps something in Granny Margot’s suggestion that he might be using a different name now? Brian had shown them that this was highly possible, after all.

Every fibre of Jude’s being wanted to go straight round to each of them in turn to see if she could find Kerry. But she knew she couldn’t. She could jeopardise everything, just as they were so close to the truth so she would just have to wait for Binnie to call back.

By the pond at the top of the drive, Jude pulled up to let Rodney into the paddock. Usually she would have spent a bit of time with him but time wasn’t something she had. Jude left the newest member of Malvern Farm in the inquisitive care of the other paddock animals, parked the Land Rover in the yard and went straight through to the office.

‘Bugger it,’ she said when she pulled her phone out and saw that there were three missed calls from Binnie. She cursed again when she tried calling and it went through to voicemail.

‘Argh, I’m so sorry, Binnie. Like a total muppet I had my phone on silent. Anyway, I’ve found Stanny Riley. His real name is Royston Roileen. R. O. I. L. E. E. N. I’m going to dig around on the computer and see what I can pull up on him. Call me when you get this.’

She rang off and made sure that the volume was right up before she set the phone down on the desk and turned on the snail-paced computer. As soon as it fired up, she pulled up Becka’s files and found the one pertaining to Royston Roileen. In it were several newspaper articles that showed what he’d been up to since leaving school, all resulting in arrest and the big one, involving drugs and county lines, landing him a long stint in Hewell Prison.

There was a sorry-looking mugshot of him in one of the articles but it looked nothing like any of the men on her suspect list. She zoomed in on the scowling man with white-blond hair, eyebrows so fair they were barely visible and pale blue eyes.

Jude set the printer to run off a copy of the photo. There was something very familiar about the shape of his eyes and the bulb of his nose but Jude couldn’t put her finger on it.

An internet search threw up very little that Becka hadn’t already saved to her files and Jude knew that this was as far as she’d be able to go until Binnie called her back.

Whilst she killed time preparing supper, Jude couldn’t stop herself from picking up her phone every few minutes to check she hadn’t somehow missed any more calls until, eventually, Binnie phoned.

‘It’s really late,’ Jude said. ‘I’d almost given up on you.’

‘We were at the prison for ages, talking not only to Jamie Shepperton but also to some of the guards who were working there when Royston Roileen was an inmate. Just on our way back to Malvern now.’

‘You got my message then?’

‘Yes. And you’re right. Roileen was at Hewell for several years, overlapping Jamie Shepperton by a couple. Jamie was reluctant to talk at first but then I told him that Kerry was missing and we presumed she was with Roileen and may be in danger. That soon loosened his tongue.’

Jude pulled the pan off the Aga and closed the lid so that she could concentrate. ‘What did he have to say for himself?’

‘He was friends with Roileen, knew him as Stanny. They discovered that Joyce and Jim Dusk had put them both away. According to Jamie they mucked about planning their revenge but he thought it was all banter, he never expected Roileen to go through with any of it.’

‘Did Jamie tell him to get in touch with Kerry when he got out of prison?’ Jude asked.

‘No, although he said he talked about her all the time to Roileen. He told Kerry all about him too. It sounded to me like Jamie very much looked up to him until the last month or so before Roileen was released.’

‘What changed?’

‘Jamie said the banter stopped and Roileen became moodier and unpredictable. Jamie saw a nastier side to his friend as though the thought of heading back out into the freedom of society had unlocked something in him.’

Jude thought about Kerry. No wonder Jamie was anxious about her getting tangled up with someone like that. ‘He must be worried about his sister if he was ready to grass up his old prison mate to help you track her down.’

‘He definitely didn’t like the thought of Kerry being with him,’ said Binnie.

The underlying worry that Jude had been feeling since getting Kerry’s note crystalised into something more akin to fear for the young woman. ‘Did Jamie give you any indication of where they might be?’

‘There wasn’t much he could tell us,’ said Binnie. ‘Initial searches have drawn a blank but we’ll carry on in earnest tomorrow now that we have a name to work with.’

‘Do you think he’s our killer?’ Jude perched on the edge of the kitchen table.

‘He’s certainly just been elevated to main suspect. We’ll have to wait until we’ve tracked him down though before we can make any assumptions.’

‘And Kerry?’ Jude tried to keep the quiver out of her voice.

‘We’ll be working hard to find her.’

Binnie’s reassurance did little to quash the fiery fear inside Jude and, as Binnie rang off, she racked her brains for any little piece of information that Kerry might have given her that would point Jude in the right direction.

She was deep in frustrated thought when Lucy came home with an exhausted Sebbie, carrying a bag of wet washing and a strong smell of chlorine.

‘I nearly drowned today, Aunty Judy,’ he declared with a dramatic flourish as he walked past her into the utility room to throw his swimming kit by the washing machine.

‘No, you didn’t,’ Lucy said as she brought up the rear and dumped two bags of groceries on the kitchen table. ‘You just lost your woggle for a moment but Mrs Collier was there to help you.’ She turned to Jude. ‘How was your day?’

‘Complicated,’ said Jude. ‘Sebbie, why don’t you go into the playroom and do some colouring in for a bit whilst I talk to Mum?’

It took two chocolate digestives to persuade him but Sebbie did as he was told and Jude was quick to tell Lucy about everything she had discovered that afternoon about Stanny Roileen and her worries about Kerry.

‘Wow,’ said Lucy. ‘And Binnie has no idea where he is now?’

‘He seems to have dropped off the edge of the planet.’

Sebbie came running in at that moment, waving a piece of paper. ‘Look what I made for you, Aunty Judy.’

‘Not now, Sebbie,’ said Lucy. ‘Supper won’t be long.’

Jude caught sight of the picture that he was holding. It was the one of Stanny Roileen that she had printed out but with some added flair that Sebbie had done with his felt tips.

‘Let me see that,’ she said and took it from his outstretched hand.

‘It was on the floor and I thought he looked scary so I coloured him in a bit.’

As well as darkening the man’s hair, Sebbie had also thickened his eyebrows, given him a bright red smile, and added a pair of glasses.

The picture that had already teased Jude with glimmers of something familiar looked even more so under Sebbie’s penmanship.

‘Sebbie!’ Lucy scolded. ‘You know you can’t just scribble on other people’s things. You have a colouring book for that. Say sorry to Aunty Jude, please.’

But Aunty Jude wasn’t listening. She had laid the sheet of paper out on the kitchen table, grabbed a Sharpie and was adding her own details to the man’s face. A thick, dark beard and moustache, as close to Andy’s as she could make it.

‘Shit!’ Jude’s scalp prickled as a sudden realisation hit her.

‘You can’t say shit, Aunty Jude. Shit is a bad word, isn’t it, Mummy? Nobody should say shit, should they?’

‘Go upstairs and put your pyjamas on,’ said Lucy.

‘But Mummy, I haven’t eated supper yet.’

‘You can have it in your jammies for a treat if you go up now.’

‘Hooray!’ Sebbie skipped off happily upstairs and Lucy turned to Jude.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘I think I know who Stanny Roileen is.’

24

Jude waved the image at her sister.

‘This is a picture of Roileen that I printed off the web. I knew there was something familiar about him but it wasn’t until Sebbie updated it that I realised what it was. If the man in this picture was to grow a beard, buy a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and dye his hair and eyebrows then he’d look exactly like Andy.’

‘One of the walking group?’

‘Yes.’ Jude had dialled Binnie’s number whilst she was talking and felt like screaming when once more it went to voicemail.

‘Binnie, you need to get round to Andy’s house,’ she said. ‘I am pretty sure he’s Stanny Roileen. I know you’d tell me not to, but I’ve got to go in case Kerry’s there. Just come as soon as you can.’

‘You’re going out again to find a killer, aren’t you?’ Lucy demanded as Jude pulled on a pair of trainers.

‘I’ve got to make sure Kerry’s okay. You know I do.’

Lucy grabbed her sister’s arm. ‘Wait for Binnie and the police, please.’

Jude looked into Lucy’s worried face. ‘If I’m right then Andy is dangerous. He might well already have killed three people and I would never forgive myself if Kerry was the fourth and I did nothing to stop it.’

‘Listen to yourself,’ Lucy pleaded. ‘You’re telling me that this man is dangerous and yet you’re about to go and confront him. Surely he won’t do anything to Kerry if she’s his prison mate’s little sister?’

‘Maybe.’ Jude picked up her car keys. ‘But when Binnie told Jamie that Kerry was with Stanny, he was worried. He knows what Stanny is capable of so if he’s worried then so am I.’

‘At least call the police and tell them what you’re doing.’

‘Binnie will pick up my message soon.’

‘Jude…’

‘Fine, I’ll call 999 from the car.’

‘Here.’ Lucy rifled in her handbag and took a mini can of hairspray out.

‘What’s this about?’ Jude asked. ‘You don’t use hairspray.’

‘No, but I always keep a can in my bag as a weapon. It stems from the nights before Sebbie when I often walked home through Maidenhead on my own after dark.’ She passed it to Jude. ‘Put it in your pocket but keep your hand on the nozzle. Then if he tries anything, spray him in the eyes.’

‘Brutal!’ Jude took the can.

‘Rather him than you.’ Lucy’s shoulders shrank away from her ears in resignation. ‘Just be careful.’

Jude was grateful that Clara had sent her on the mission to drop Andy’s wallet off just a few days before as it meant she knew exactly where to go. Jude drove past Andy’s house and saw that the lights were switched off and his car was missing. She thought it was wisest to park a little way away as her huge blue Land Rover was not exactly inconspicuous and looked very out of place in the residential area of Cowleigh Bank. She turned down a side street and pulled up away from the junction just to be extra careful. When she reached into her pocket for her phone to call the police as she’d promised Lucy, Jude cursed as she realised that she’d left it sitting on the kitchen table at the farm.

There was no going back for it though, she’d just have to make sure that she was in and out quickly and didn’t get caught.

Jude pulled her hair into a ponytail and zipped her keys into the pocket of her jacket. Then she walked out of the side street and kept her eyes on Andy’s house for any signs of life. Finding none, she glanced over her shoulder when she got close and side-stepped into his front garden disappearing quickly in the shadows round the side of the little box house.

Making as little noise as possible, Jude lifted the latch of the side gate and let herself round to the back of the house where the rooms were as dark and empty as the front. This gave her a little courage to venture further into the garden.

She glanced around in case there were any sheds that she should be looking into for Kerry but the garden consisted only of a square of patchy grass, two flimsy-looking patio chairs and a bike leaning against a thick evergreen hedge. It didn’t look as though a single flower or frippery belonged in this garden, the complete opposite to the overstuffed one that had been tended so carefully by Joyce.

Jude went to the back door and looked through the glass to make sure there was nobody inside before she tried the handle. It was locked, unsurprisingly, and there was no sign of a key safe or any upturned flowerpots to help her get in. Looking around, she saw that the smallest window on the ground floor was open a crack and when she slipped her hand inside, Jude easily managing to prise it further. The gap she’d made was small but she thought that she might be able to get in, if she used one of the chairs to help her.

Jude felt the cheap plastic of the chair bend as she picked it up and carried it over to the window. It wobbled when she stood on it but she managed to get her head and shoulders in through the window and stood up so that the bottom frame rested against her stomach. She waited, half in and half out of the cloakroom with her ear drums vibrating from the silence of the house she was about to break into.

Satisfied that there really was nobody there, or at least nobody freely moving around the place, she put her hands on the sill and pushed herself up so that she was on her tiptoes. It took a lot of careful manoeuvring to get the rest of herself through the gap without falling headfirst into the porcelain bowl of the toilet below her but once she’d pushed one knee through so that she was straddling the windowsill, it was easier going.

She used the toilet to help her climb down into the room and told herself that this was strictly the last loo she would find herself skulking around without the owner’s permission as it was getting to be a habit.

The house was still and quiet when she went tentatively through into the hallway. The silence did little to slow Jude’s heart rate though and she was very keen to get out of there as soon as she’d searched every inch for signs that Kerry had been there.

She began downstairs, which didn’t take long as there was only a galley kitchen, compact dining room and sitting room to search through. All were deserted, as was the first room she came to upstairs which was the bathroom. There were two further rooms on this floor. The first contained a double bed dressed in crumpled sheets; the clothes heaped on the floor suggested it was Andy’s.

The second door was locked and this made Jude instantly both interested and concerned about what was on the other side. Why would anyone lock a door in their own home? By their very nature locks were used to keep people out or in and this meant that Andy either had something big to hide, or was keeping someone prisoner inside.

‘Kerry?’ she called cautiously through the door. ‘Kerry, it’s Jude. Are you in there?’

‘Jude?’ The voice was a little slurred but it definitely belonged to Kerry.

Jude closed her eyes in a moment of relief at having found the girl alive. ‘Kerry, are you all right? Did he hurt you?’

To her surprise Kerry gave a slow, tired laugh. ‘Who, Stanny? No, of course he didn’t. He’s going to help me.’

‘Help you?’

‘Yeah. He’s looking after me and he’s going to help me find my own place. Somewhere Jamie can live an’ all. When he gets out of prison, like.’

Jude shook her head. What nonsense had Andy been filling her head with?

‘Sweetie, he’s been lying to you,’ she said. ‘Stanny isn’t a good man. In fact, I think he could be very dangerous so I need you to open the door and come with me.’

‘You’ve got him wrong. He’s been so kind to me, you just don’t trust him because he’s been in prison.’

‘That’s not true.’ Instinctively, Jude grabbed the door handle and tried it again, knowing that it was pointless. ‘He’s done some really terrible things and I don’t think you’re safe here with him.’

‘You don’t know him.’ Kerry’s words were spoken harshly but the passion Jude had heard in her before was subdued. It was almost as though she was drunk, or someone had given her something to keep her under control.

‘You need to trust me. Stanny has been pretending to be someone else, a man called Andy—’

Kerry’s laugh cut Jude off. ‘See, I knew you were wrong. Stanny and Andy aren’t the same person – they’re twins. This is Andy’s house you’re in now and he’s letting Stanny and me stay until Stanny’s got enough money for a flat of our own.’

Jude remembered Ally mentioning that Stanny had a brother, but she hadn’t banked on them being twins. Kerry’s revelation that she was planning to move in with Stanny and the fact that there were only two bedrooms in Andy’s house gave Jude something new to worry about.

‘Are you in a relationship with Stanny?’

‘What?’ Kerry really did sound dozy and Jude felt sick at the thought of the two men getting her into this state. ‘Eugh, no. Don’t be stupid. He’s like a brother to me, that’s all.’

Well, that was one small comfort at least. But Jude knew she couldn’t just leave Kerry in the house. She cursed herself again for forgetting her phone and prayed that Binnie would pick up her message soon and come to find them.

‘Kerry, have you locked this door from your side?’

Jude knew the answer before Kerry gave it. ‘No. Stanny says it’s for my own good that I stay safe in here. He’s looking after me for Jamie. But you don’t need to worry, he gave me the room with its own en suite. He’s like that, you see.’

‘Don’t you see that isn’t right?’ Jude said. ‘If he was looking after you then you wouldn’t need the lock on your door, would you?’

‘I’m allowed out whenever I like as long as he’s here to protect me. But I’ve been a bit shaky and done a bit of sleepwalking too. Stanny doesn’t want me falling down the stairs or anythink so it’s safer for me to stay in ’ere just for a couple of days like.’

‘What do you mean you’ve been shaky?’ Jude already had her suspicions that something wasn’t right because of the sleepy, slurry way Kerry was speaking.

‘I dunno, just shaky. I’m always tired and then I’ve had a couple of blackouts, I suppose.’

‘We need to get you to a doctor.’ Jude felt sure these funny turns Kerry was experiencing were brought on by something Stanny was giving her. ‘If Stanny really wants what’s best for you then he’d agree with me.’

‘He’s already got me an appointment, actually,’ said Kerry. ‘They’re really busy so the first one they had was in a couple of days.’

‘A couple of days?’ Jude didn’t believe for a second that any such appointment had been made. ‘You need to see someone before then. If you’re blacking out then you need a doctor as soon as possible.’

‘Stanny told the woman on the phone what was wrong and she said it’s most probably a migraine or some’ink. Nothing to worry about and I’ll be fine for a couple of days. He’s looking after me like a princess.’

Jude scrunched her eyes up at the naivety of the young woman.

‘Please listen to me. I know you want Stanny to be a good guy but he really isn’t. My friend is a detective and she’s been to see your brother, to see Jamie.’

‘What?’ Kerry’s anger was back again. ‘You didn’t tell me you were friends with the pigs. What have you done, you silly cow?’

‘When you left, I was worried about you. Your mum is too, she called the police to report you missing.’

‘She did?’

‘Yes. When you said you’d gone off with Stanny, of course the police wanted to talk to Jamie to find out if he knew where we could find him and you.’

‘I bet my Jamie never told them anythink.’

‘When he heard you were with Stanny you’d be surprised how much he did say. He doesn’t trust him and he knows how dangerous he can be. He gave the police information that puts Stanny in the frame for three murders.’

It was a bit of an exaggeration but Jude needed to persuade Kerry if she was going to get her onside to willingly leave – once she worked out how she was going to manage that.

‘You’re lying,’ Kerry said, but there was no conviction in her statement.

‘I’m not, and I think you know that. You know it isn’t right for someone to lock you in a room. You’ve been unwell since you’ve been here and you don’t sound like yourself either. Have Stanny and Andy made you take anything you didn’t want to?’

There was no answer from the other side of the door.

‘Kerry?’

Still no answer, which made Jude panic. She pushed her shoulder into the door and shoved hard, hoping to feel it move. It was a cheap, flimsy door but it was solid enough in its frame and Jude felt her shoulder bruise as she rammed into it another couple of times.

‘Kerry? Talk to me.’

‘Do you really think they killed people?’ Kerry whispered through the door.

‘Sweetie, I’m so sorry but I’m almost certain of it.’

‘And you think I might be next?’

‘I really don’t know. Maybe not – after all, he hasn’t tried to so far. But let’s not chance it, hey?’

‘Get me out of here, Jude.’ Kerry was crying now, Jude was almost sure of it.

There was a frantic rattling of the door handle from the other side.

‘I promise. I just need to leave you for a bit so that I can find something to help me break open the door.’

But before Jude had the chance to follow through on her promise, the sound of a car on the driveway outside made it impossible.

25

Jude looked desperately around for somewhere to hide.

‘They’re back,’ she told Kerry. ‘Listen, help is on the way and I’m not going to leave the house but I need you to act normally. Do not let them see anything’s wrong, can you do that?’

‘Yes. But promise you won’t go nowhere.’

‘I promise but I need to find somewhere to hide before they come in the house.’

Jude ran into the bedroom next door and rolled under the bed just as the front door opened and the two brothers returned. With her heart pounding, she reached up and pulled at the edge of the duvet so that it drooped over the side of the bed to form a protective curtain, then she shuffled her body as far back into the shadows as she could. As footsteps climbed the stairs, she held her breath and hoped that Andy didn’t have a sudden desire to tidy up his bedroom.

‘You got so vain, you know,’ said a voice that sounded like Andy’s but with a harder edge to it. ‘All this hair dye and beard nonsense.’

The two men had gone into the bathroom and Jude could hear the sound of running water.

‘Yeah, well, whose fault is that?’ Andy said. ‘After you got yourself locked up, I wasn’t exactly flavour of the month round here, was I? I was sick of bumping into people who wanted to have a go at me for the things you did so I needed a new identity. I even gave up the Roileen name.’

‘Yeah, well, once we’ve got the money from those poncy pictures, we can get away from this shithole and you can be whoever you want to be, little brother.’

There was the sound of a zip and then a sharp stream of liquid.

‘Do you have to do that whilst I’m in here getting ready?’ Andy said. ‘Couldn’t you have had a piss downstairs?’

At the mention of the downstairs loo, Jude realised in horror that she’d left the window wide open. If either of the brothers went in, they would notice for sure. And if they chose to look outside and found the patio chair still propped by the wall then it would be obvious that someone had broken in.

‘I like watching my little brother get all tarted up for his big date. I can’t believe you haven’t banged her yet, she clearly wants it.’

The toilet flushed.

‘Enough of the little, you’re only twenty minutes older than me and not everyone lives by your moral code,’ said Andy. ‘I think I’m already using her enough, don’t you?’

‘Andy, Andy. If she wants you then it isn’t using her, is it?’

‘She only wants me because she thinks I’m a nice person. If she knew I was only going round there tonight to help you nick her sketches then I don’t think she’d be quite so keen on me.’

So that was their plan? Andy had been helping Clara out, letting her think that they were at the start of a relationship together, all so that he could steal her great-grandmother’s sketches and make a bit of quick money? At least he hadn’t stooped low enough to sleep with her as well, Jude supposed, but that was small recompense for everything else.

‘Whatever you say. Just don’t fuck it up tonight, okay?’

‘I told you, I’m up for this. Just bugger off and let me get myself ready.’

Jude shrank backwards as she heard Stanny leave the bathroom and walk towards her. She saw his scruffy white trainers and the ragged edges of his jeans as he came into the room and moved across the carpet.

The wardrobe door opened and she heard the sound of hangers being scraped across the rail followed by clothes landing on the bed above her head.

Stanny kicked his trainers off, one of which found its way behind Jude’s duvet curtain, bringing with it the acrid smell of feet. She stared at it, hoping that this wasn’t going to be the thing that uncovered her hiding place.

Stanny’s jogging bottoms dropped to the floor and the slats of the bed creaked as he sat down and started to pull on a pair of black jeans. The movement caused dust motes to scatter from the underside of the mattress and Jude felt them tickle her nose. Her eyes watered as she pinched her nostrils together and forced down a sneeze.

Andy pulled the plug and Jude heard the basin empty followed by the thrum of an electric toothbrush.

‘Kerry?’ Stanny called through to the next room. ‘You’re quiet. Everything okay in there?’

‘Yeah,’ Kerry called back. ‘Just having a nap.’

‘Good girl. Listen, Andy and me have to go out again for a bit but we thought we’d get takeaway when we get back, might have something to celebrate. How does that sound to you?’

‘Yeah, nice.’

Stanny got up and left the room. Jude heard a key turn in the lock of the room Kerry was in and the door was opened. She wanted to take her chance and rush out to tackle him whilst the route to escape was open but she knew it was a ridiculous idea. Even if she could overpower Stanny with the element of surprise on her side, she’d still have Andy to deal with.

‘Aren’t you going to ask what the celebration is all about?’ Stanny asked.

‘Go on then, tell me,’ said Kerry.

‘You know this job I’ve been working on for a while now.’

‘The one with that mate of yours who owed you a favour?’

‘That’s it. Well, it’s all coming together. We’ve got a meeting this evening and I’m pretty sure it’s going to end up with me having the money we need to get that house we talked about. Set it up nice for Jamie when he gets out in a couple of months and give you both a proper life, just like you deserve.’

In a weird, perverted way, Stanny spoke to Kerry as though he really did care about her and Jude could see for the first time how she might have been taken in by him.

‘You don’t seem all that excited,’ Stanny said.

‘No, I am. It’s brilliant. Of course it is,’ said Kerry. ‘It’s just that I don’t feel too well again. Are you sure I don’t need to go to hospital or some’ink?’

‘It won’t be long and this will all be over.’ Stanny’s voice was soft and soothing. ‘Now get yourself back to bed and I’ll come and fetch you when the takeaway gets here.’

The key turned in the lock again and Kerry was once more a prisoner. Jude glanced down at her watch. It had been almost an hour since she’d called Binnie. Where the hell was she?

Stanny returned to the bedroom and was joined by Andy.

‘I was going to wear those jeans,’ Andy said. ‘They’re my best pair.’

‘Yeah, well, you’re supposed to be there tonight so it doesn’t matter what you show up in. I’ve got to be sneakier and blend into the shadows so it’s got to be black, hasn’t it? Now where are those black running shoes you’ve got? I don’t want my choice of footwear to let me down.’

Jude was hopeful that meant the trainer lying far too close to her face for her liking wouldn’t be needed.

‘What do you mean you’ve got to blend into the shadows?’ Andy asked. ‘You don’t need to be there. We just keep it simple like we discussed. I go in, have a bit of dinner, stick the sketches in my bag when she’s not looking and bring them home with me.’

‘It’s a big job, little brother, and I’m not convinced you won’t fuck it up.’ Jude could hear the sneer in Stanny’s voice and she almost felt sorry for Andy. ‘Here’s the new plan. You take the lovely Clara a nice bottle of wine and make sure you leave the back door ajar. Then you suggest moving things into the bedroom and I sneak in to nab the sketches whilst you’re busy.’ Stanny was speaking quietly and Jude assumed it was to make it harder for Kerry to hear what sort of person he actually was.

‘I told you, I’m not doing that,’ said Andy.

‘Don’t be so frigid. You can do what the hell you like with her once you’ve shut the bedroom door, just make sure you keep her happy long enough for me to find the sketches and get out.’

‘But you said—’

‘And now I’m saying do as you’re told.’ There was an edge of warning in Stanny’s voice.

‘Fine,’ said Andy submissively. ‘She keeps them in a drawer in the sitting room. You’re looking for a red leather folder, old and shabby, about so big.’

Jude realised that moving Clara into her new home and helping her unpack her things hadn’t been the generous act it had originally seemed. What better way to find out exactly where the Tamara de Lempicka sketches were stored? And to create the perfect way in for Andy to be able to help himself to them.

‘How exactly were you thinking you’d be able to sneak a whole folder out of the house without her seeing anyway?’ Stanny asked. ‘You know you need me, little brother.’

‘I suppose that if I’m with her when she discovers she’s been robbed she won’t suspect it’s got anything to do with me,’ said Andy, still somewhat reluctantly. ‘And if you’re going in, you may as well grab the painting off the wall too. That way she’ll definitely notice straight away and I’ll be in the clear. Just make sure you get away quickly and hide somewhere until I can come and pick you up.’

‘You never mentioned a painting.’

‘I wasn’t going to bother because I could never just walk out with a bloody big painting. The sketches are worth enough on their own but if you’re coming then you may as well take the lot.’

‘That’s the spirit, little brother. Now what else do I need to know?’

‘There’s a dog. Rex. He’ll almost certainly bark at you but he’s happy if you give him food so take something with you.’

‘We can do better than that,’ said Stanny, his voicing dropping even lower. ‘You can take something for him and make sure it has one of those tablets we’ve been giving Kerry in it. Give it to the dog as soon as you get there and he’ll be as amenable as she is in no time.’

Proof, if it was needed, that Stanny had been drugging Kerry with some sort of sedative.

‘What’s the plan with her, anyway?’ Andy whispered. ‘How long are you planning on keeping her like some sort of sick pet?’

‘Until she stops being useful and you and me are miles away from here living off the money we get from those pictures.’

What did he mean about Kerry not being useful? Did he have further plans for her, was that why Stanny was keeping her? And what exactly was he planning on doing with her then? Jude shivered but reminded herself that Binnie was on the way and Kerry would be out of there before either of them had the chance to harm her.

‘You’re sure those sketches are what Clara says they are?’ Stanny asked.

‘Yeah. She showed me all the letters from the artist to her great-grandmother. They’re in the red folder too and they are the proof we need. As long as that dealer your contact hooked you up with is legit and can sell them on for us then we’re laughing.’

‘He’s legit, don’t worry about that.’

‘And you still think we can pin this on Damien?’

‘If we play our cards right,’ said Stanny. ‘We’re that close to getting him banged up for killing that bitch, Joyce Mason. Kerry did a good job of making sure he was at the pub when I put the poison in her water bottle. And that farmer friend of yours took the bait nicely too. It was that funny, sitting at the bar listening to her lay into Damien. She even asked him outright if he’d killed Becka. Couldn’t have gone better, especially as she’s in the pocket of that copper leading the case.’

Jude felt her jaw clench in anger as she thought of Stanny hiding in plain sight, playing them all. Had he followed them into the wood too to see his handiwork play out? There had been another walker behind them, she remembered that. He’d veered off when Rex had started barking but had he actually wanted to keep his distance to avoid being properly seen?

‘I thought whilst I’m at your girlfriend’s house, I’ll take a few extra little trinkets. Things that I can hide away in Damien’s house along with the remains of the arsenic bottle, which has his fingerprints all over it. When he threw his empty Coke bottle in the recycling bin, I bet he didn’t stop to think what it might be recycled as.’

Stanny laughed at his own humour. ‘Just need Kerry to make a call to the police to tell them she saw Damien coming out of Clara’s house and bam! Job’s a goodun.’

‘Sounds like you’ve got it all wrapped up.’

‘Better than I thought, to be honest. When I was in the nick, all I wanted was to pay back those two arseholes who sent me down. Mason and Dusk. I know for a fact they planted stuff on me and paid someone off to grass me up. I was so careful. They reckoned they didn’t need to stick to the law just because they were fancy detectives. Look who beat them in the end though, right? And now, with the money we get from those sketches, they’ll be looking up at me from hell whilst I sit in my palace drinking posh wine and eating caviar for breakfast.’

‘Come on, Ronnie Kray,’ said Andy. ‘We’d better get going.’

There was the sound of spritzing and the room filled with the smell of aftershave, then both men left the room.

‘We’re heading off now, Kerry,’ Stanny called. ‘See you in a bit.’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘You never said what you were going to do with her,’ Andy whispered.

Jude risked wriggling to the edge of the bed so that she could strain her ears for his answer.

‘I promised Jamie I’d look out for her and I’m not a total monster. Once she’s tipped off the pigs about Damien, she can go.’

‘Are you serious?’ Andy said. ‘She’ll go straight to the police and tell them what we did.’

‘No, she won’t,’ said Stanny. ‘She hates the pigs as much as we do. And, just in case she gets ideas, I’ll make it clear to her what will happened to her brother if she squeals.’

The men carried on talking but their words were lost as they moved away, down the stairs and into the hallway. Jude slid herself out of her hiding place and stretched her arms out to release the aches that had set in from being cramped up for so long. She moved silently to the bedroom door and risked pushing it open a little so she had the sliver of a view of the front door where Andy was standing, tapping something into his phone.

‘Would the dog eat ham?’ Stanny called through from the kitchen.

‘The dog eats everything,’ Andy called back.

Moments later, Stanny joined him.

‘What the hell?’ Andy raised his voice in incredulity. ‘Are you packing a knife?’

‘Calm down. I’m not planning on using it.’

‘Then don’t bring it.’

‘If you do your side of things properly then I won’t need it. But I’m still bringing it just in case things go tits up. Call it my backup, if you like.’

Andy muttered something that Jude couldn’t hear and delved into the drawer of a side table that was pushed up to the wall next to the front door. He took out a small brown bottle and shook it like a rattle.

‘It’s not like I kill people for fun,’ Stanny hissed. ‘It’s just that some people need to die. Actually, it was quite fun watching Mason and Dusk get theirs.’ His voice had morphed into something quite psychotic. ‘Shame about your mate Becka though. In hindsight, running her off the road wasn’t my finest plan, was it? Thank God the crash killed her. I’d been worried that I might need to pay her a visit in hospital and finish the job off with a pillow.’

‘You’re sick, you know that?’ Andy unscrewed the lid of the brown bottle and tipped it up, letting something fall into his hand.

‘Yeah, but you knew that when you called to tell me she’d worked out who you were and wanted to talk to you.’

‘I panicked.’ Andy held his hand out for the packet of ham. ‘I didn’t expect you to come and find us.’

‘Then why did you tell me exactly which car park you were meeting her in then?’

So that was where Becka had been during the missing half hour. When she’d called Andy it hadn’t been to ask him to meet her later that evening, it was to arrange a meeting in one of the car parks on the hills. She had put two and two together and seen through the hair dye and fake eyebrows to the boy she’d been to school with.

‘Because you asked. Which I now know was stupid.’ Andy stared at the packet of ham in his hand. ‘She only wanted to talk. I’d said something about someone Darby and Joaning and she figured out who I was.’

‘You said what?’

Andy looked up at his brother. ‘It was something our English teacher used to say if any of us moaned. It was enough to jog her memory and she remembered me. You too. Becka knew you’d been in prison and that Joyce had put you there and she just wanted to know if I’d joined the walking group to mess with her. That was all.’

He broke eye contact and concentrated on folding slices of ham around the little tablets. ‘She was a nice person. You didn’t need to kill her.’

‘She was a private detective,’ Stanny snarled. ‘How long do you reckon it would have taken her to work out it was me who’d killed Dusk? And with her on the prowl, Mason would have been off limits. She had to be dealt with.’

Andy said nothing but wrapped the drugged ham in the cling film that had been covering the pack.

‘You’re not going to be a dickhead about this, are you?’ Stanny asked.

‘As long as you make sure nobody else gets hurt.’ He looked Stanny straight in the eye.

‘Fine.’

‘I’m asking you to leave the knife behind.’

‘And I’m telling you to stop being a pussy for once in your life.’ Stanny pulled a long kitchen knife from his black jacket and waved it under Andy’s nose.

Andy flinched and stepped back.

‘Come on then, little brother. Let’s go and make ourselves two wealthy sons of bitches.’

Stanny hid the knife in his jacket and Andy opened the front door.

26

As soon as the brothers left, Jude ran over to Kerry’s door.

‘I know I said I wouldn’t leave you but I have to go.’

There was a weak banging on the other side of the door. ‘You promised you’d stay with me,’ Kerry said. ‘What if they come back?’

‘They won’t. They’ve gone to rob one of my friends and Stanny has a weapon.’

‘Call the police then. Ent that what they’re supposed to be there for?’

‘I don’t have my phone,’ said Jude. ‘Listen, I need to go to her but I promise help is coming and it’ll be here soon. Just sit tight.’

Jude couldn’t wait any longer. She ran down the stairs and into the kitchen where she found a chipped mug containing a jumble of pens, pencils and other things. She rooted around until she found a black marker pen and then, finding no sign of any paper, she took the once-white tea-towel from the oven door and laid it out on the kitchen unit. Flicking the lid off the marker, she pulled the fabric tight and set about writing a message for Binnie to find when she finally got Jude’s voicemail and came round to Andy’s house.

BINNIE. I’VE GONE TO CLARA’S – SHE’S IN BIG TROUBLE. SEND HELP ASAP. KERRY IS LOCKED IN A BEDROOM UPSTAIRS. JUDE

Jude knew that Binnie wouldn’t be able to break into the house without the correct warrant so there was no point in leaving her message inside. The front doorstep was dodgy but Binnie would be bound to check the back when there was no answer, especially if Jude left the side gate open for her.

Letting herself out of the back door, Jude spread the tea-towel out on the patio in the light of the kitchen window so that Binnie wouldn’t miss it. Then she sprinted down the side passage and into the road. Once back in the Land Rover, she crunched it into gear and executed a clumsy three-point turn, mounting the kerb with each spin of the steering wheel and almost taking out a parked motorbike in the process.

Finally, a good fifteen minutes after the Roileen brothers had left, Jude was on her way back to Malvern End.

As she passed the entrance to the farm, she contemplated going home for her phone but then she thought of the knife Stanny had with him and she knew she couldn’t waste even a minute.

Jude pulled up outside Clara’s house, noticing that Andy’s car was already there. Grateful for the key she had kept that was still in the central unit of the Land Rover, Jude took it out and left the safety of the car, took a deep breath and went up Clara’s front path. If all went well it wouldn’t be long before Binnie found her message and sent backup; they might even be on the way. Until then though, it was down to her to make sure that Clara was safe.

With her pulse thumping in her ears, Jude unlocked the front door and silently let herself in. Voices were coming from the kitchen, agitated voices.

‘Are you sure she’s dead?’ said Andy, making Jude’s blood turn instantly to ice.

‘You saying I don’t know the difference between someone who’s dead or not?’ said Stanny.

Jude felt her mouth go dry. Were they talking about Clara? Was she really too late?

She edged forward, wishing again that she had her phone with her and straining her ears for the sound of sirens bringing help. Through the crack where the warped wooden door had pulled away just a little from the old frame, she could make the two men out. They were standing facing each other, Andy with a look of horror on his face and Stanny wearing a pair of blood-stained medical gloves. Rex was lying on the floor by his crate, his tongue lolling out and his body twitching in sleep.

‘I told you not to bring that sodding knife.’ Andy had his hands clasped behind his head and was staring at the ground in shock.

‘And I told you to keep her company in the bedroom. Jesus, can’t you even get that right?’

Jude knew she should bolt. She should go to Marco’s and use his phone to call 999 but she couldn’t go anywhere without knowing exactly what had happened to Clara and if there was any chance she was still alive.

‘I need to call an ambulance,’ said Andy.

‘Don’t be an idiot.’ Stanny pointed the blood-stained knife at his brother. ‘We need to get out of here. Let’s just get what we came for and go.’

‘I’ll have the police on my tail if we do. You go and I’ll say that someone broke in and attacked us before making off with the painting.’ Andy’s eyes were wild and his voice high. ‘Stab me in the leg. Make it look like I got in the way.’

‘You’re being daft. Nobody knows you were here. It’ll look like a robbery gone wrong and we’ll be able to disappear to wherever in the world you want to go. If anything this is in our favour as I can wipe the knife clear of prints and leave it at Damien’s house with the other stuff.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Andy sounded incredulous. ‘In this village, everyone will know I’ve been here. The old biddy who lives next door has probably already sent word out that I turned up with a bottle of wine.’

‘Give me your keys then.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t care what you do, I’m going now and I’m taking your car.’

‘You can’t do that.’ Andy was shouting now, a frenetic, panicked wobble in his voice.

At that moment, a low whimper came through the closed sitting room door. It was only just audible from where Jude was standing but it was unmistakable – an animalistic whimper of pain or fear and Jude’s heart lifted as surely it meant that Clara was still alive. She glanced at the two men in the kitchen but neither one of them appeared to have heard over their argument.

Moving carefully so as not to alert them to her presence, Jude edged back along the hall and gently pushed open the door into the sitting room just enough for her to squeeze her way through.

Clara was slouched on the sofa, her head lolling backwards and her eyes closed. A large wound on her stomach was spilling blood across the ivory-coloured throw and Clara’s hand lay loosely over it. She was completely motionless and drained of colour. There was no sign of her chest rising and falling and her lips had already turned blue. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Jude had heard her whimper she might well have supposed Clara was dead. It was no wonder that Stanny had made that mistake.

‘Bloody hell,’ Jude muttered under her breath as she ran over to help stem the flow, hoping that the noise she’d heard hadn’t been Clara’s last. She knew she had to work fast to prevent any more blood loss and yet there was also a need for silence if she was going to avoid alerting the men that she was there.

‘Clara,’ she whispered into her ear as she picked up her cold hand. ‘It’s Jude. I’m going to try and help you but I have to ask you to be as quiet as you can. The men who did this to you are still in the kitchen and we can’t let them know I’m here. Can you squeeze my hand if you understand?’

There was a tiny movement as Clara’s weak fingers tightened a fraction around Jude’s. Jude let out a breath of relief at this sign of life. But how long would she be able to sustain that?

‘Brilliant. Well done. Now I’m going to have to put some pressure on that wound of yours, which is going to hurt.’ Jude looked around and found one of Rex’s soft toys in the shape of a bone. ‘Here,’ she said, putting the toy in Clara’s hand. ‘Squeeze this if you need to. It might help with the pain a little. Are you ready?’

Jude lifted Clara’s top away and found a nasty gash in her abdomen. It looked really deep and she was losing a lot of blood very fast. She picked up a coaster and a jumper of Clara’s that had been lying next to her on the sofa. The shiny surface of the coaster would help to create a seal and focus the pressure whilst she tried to tie the arms of the jumper around Clara’s stomach. Luckily she’d slumped in such a way that her back had a created a hollow for Jude to thread one arm of the jumper through. She tied it to the other in a fat knot directly on top of the coaster which she pushed firmly onto the wound.

Clara’s face contorted with the pain, which must have been incredible, and Jude saw her knuckles whiten as she gripped the dog toy tightly.

And then the toy did exactly what it was supposed to do. It let out a high-pitched squeak.

‘Bollocks,’ said Jude as it gave off a second squeak.

The sound of scrabbling and bickering indicated that the brothers had also heard it and were coming to find out what was going on. They burst into the sitting room where they found Jude kneeling on the floor next to Clara who was extremely weak but clearly still clinging to life.

‘What the fuck?’ Stanny stared at the scene for a split second, taking in the twist in his evening that he had not been expecting and then, as though someone had attached him to a set of jump leads, he sprang into action.

As Stanny raised the knife and started to charge towards her, Jude yanked the can of hairspray from her pocket and fired off a long stream of sticky spray directly into his face.

‘Aahhhh!’ he screamed, dropping the knife and clawing at his eyes. ‘What the hell?’

Stanny stumbled around the sitting room, unable to see what he was doing and blindly crashing into a stool which collapsed sideways onto the carpet.

For a moment Jude watched with a strange fascination as he tripped on the fallen stool and fell backwards, hitting his head hard on the corner of the coffee table as he went. He lay in a heap on top of the stool with his long limbs sticking out at angles they were not designed to accommodate.

‘You killed him,’ gasped Andy, who was staring at his brother’s distorted body in horror.

Jude rushed over to him. Stanny Roileen might have been a vicious and nasty man, not above a murder if necessary, but Jude was better than that.

She placed her fingers on his neck and pulse. ‘He’s alive,’ she said.

‘What about Clara?’ Andy looked sick as he took in the scene of utter carnage and Jude could see from the torment in his eyes that he had not been a willing participant in his brother’s games.

‘Only just but we need an ambulance. Can you call one?’

‘What?’ Andy stared at her as though she was speaking a different language.

‘She needs help urgently,’ said Jude. ‘Your brother too. I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Come on, Andy, do something to start putting it right.’

Andy pulled at his beard and stared at Stanny.

‘Holy shit. He wouldn’t leave the knife behind. I told him not to bring it. I told him.’

‘Andy.’ Jude spoke with more force.

A moan from Stanny as he started to come to distracted them both and Jude got up quickly and kicked the knife he’d dropped away from his grasp and under the sofa. She looked around, desperately trying to work out what she could do to incapacitate him properly until the police arrived.

With a suddenness that caught Jude completely off guard, she felt a hand grab at her ankle and before she had a chance to do anything to stabilise herself the hand tugged sharply and she fell backwards onto the carpet.

Jude struggled to get up but Stanny had managed to untangle himself from the stool and was standing over her. He put a foot on her chest and pressed down hard.

‘Leave her alone,’ Andy said.

‘What’s that, little brother? This tramp almost killed me and you want me to just let her get away with it, do you?’

Jude looked up into his face, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot from the hairspray and the pale skin around them was mottled and angry. It gave him a crazed look that Jude thought belonged in a horror movie.

‘It’s gone too far, that’s all.’ Andy couldn’t look at his brother and Jude felt an odd kind of sympathy for him, despite the part he’d played in the events of the past few weeks.

‘After today, it’s all over. Job done,’ said Stanny. ‘Now, as you’re the squeamish one, you load the sketches and painting into the car and I’ll finish up in here. We need to be gone tonight.’

Jude tried to wriggle free of Stanny’s leg but he was well built and the pressure on her ribs was intense. She clawed at his calf but the jeans were thick, as were the socks beneath.

‘Will you lie still,’ Stanny shouted at her. ‘Or do you want me to push harder and snap those ribs of yours?’

‘What are you going to do to her?’ Andy asked.

‘Nothing you need to know about. You just sort out the pictures and then leave me to it.’

Jude’s eyes followed Andy as he went over to Clara’s writing desk and pulled out the bottom drawer. She watched him lift out a red folder and then move to the wall where the beautiful painting of Clara’s great-grandmother hung.

Jude grabbed at Stanny’s leg and threw all the energy she had left into pulling it towards her so that he unbalanced and fell to the ground with a roar.

Her ribs ached and she felt decidedly bruised but she was at least free. She stumbled to her feet and made for the door but Stanny was fast and was on her before she got there. He grabbed her hair in a tight fist and swung her around so that he was between her and the door. Out of the corner of her eye, Jude could see the glint of the knife that he must have somehow retrieved from under the sofa. Clearly she hadn’t kicked it with quite enough force.

Andy was standing watching her with a frozen look of shock on his face.

‘Help me,’ she gasped. But Andy didn’t move.

‘You are causing me no end of grief,’ Stanny snarled, and drew his arm back ready to stab her.

Jude was certain that she’d run out of luck when a loud barking erupted from the doorway and Rex sprang forward, his teeth bared and his ears erect.

In one enormous bound, he leapt through the air majestically and attached his teeth to Stanny’s leg.

Stanny waved the knife around madly, screaming blue murder as the dog’s grip tightened.

Rex had him on the floor in seconds and didn’t let go, even when Stanny’s knife found its way into the brave dog’s back.

It was to this scene of carnage that Binnie and Sami arrived, along with a team of uniformed officers.

27

In the farmhouse kitchen the next day, Binnie, Sami, Jude, Lucy and Marco were sitting around the table with steaming mugs of tea and the remainder of the fancy tin of shortbread in front of them.

The two detectives were officially there on business to question Jude about the events of the night before and take her statement but that hadn’t stopped Binnie from enveloping her friend in an enormous hug before they started.

‘How are you, Jude?’ Binnie looked at her, full of concern.

‘You definitely have a habit of getting into tight scrapes,’ Sami added. ‘Does trouble go looking for you, or do you go searching for it?’

Jude smiled. ‘I sometimes think it’s a bit of both.’

‘Well, I think you were incredibly brave.’

‘That’s one word for it.’ Lucy still hadn’t recovered from hearing about Jude’s latest precarious interaction with a murderer. ‘Another might be bloody fool. You could have got yourself killed.’

‘Not me,’ Jude grinned. ‘I had a can of hairspray.’

‘That’s not funny. We could have lost you.’

Jude squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘I’m made of tougher stuff than that,’ she said. ‘You should have realised that by now.’

‘It doesn’t matter how tough you are,’ Lucy said. ‘That knife would have still got through if Rex hadn’t been there to save you.’

Jude thought about the incredible dog and his basic instinct to protect. Lucy was right, he had saved her life and ended up with a blade in the back for his efforts.

‘How is he?’ Binnie asked.

‘He’s fine.’ Marco laid his arm across the back of Jude’s chair. ‘The blade didn’t go in very deeply. Noah took him to the vet last night to get him checked over and stitched up and it all went well. He’s just gone back to see if he’s ready to come home.’

‘That’s good,’ said Binnie. ‘Let’s hope that we get good news from the hospital soon too.’

Clara had still been alive when the ambulance had come for her but she’d lost a lot of blood and the paramedics were methodical and focused as they tried to stabilise her enough to get her to Worcester A&E. Binnie had called the hospital later that night but she was still in the operating theatre and there had been no news since.

‘The paramedic said she’d have bled out completely if you hadn’t stemmed the wound,’ said Sami. ‘You might have saved her life.’

‘That’s my girl,’ said Marco, and Jude felt comforted by his presence. It was nice to have him there and she found herself wondering if keeping him at arm’s length really was the best idea. What would the real issues be if they decided to try taking things further after all? She’d worried that she would be setting herself up for heartache but was that enough of a reason to avoid all relationships for the rest of her life?

‘And Kerry?’ Jude asked. ‘How’s she?’

‘Back with her parents,’ said Binnie. ‘They both went straight to the hospital last night when they were told what had happened and didn’t leave her side. When she was discharged, they took her straight home. I’m going to see them all later to take her formal statement.’

‘Did they find out what drugs she’d been given?’ Lucy asked.

‘Rohypnol,’ said Sami with a look of disgust on his face.

‘The date rape drug.’ Jude felt sick at the very thought of someone so vulnerable being abused in this way. ‘He didn’t…?’

‘No.’ Binnie shook her head vehemently. ‘She was examined whilst she was in hospital and there were no signs of any kind of sexual interference.’

Jude breathed out loudly in relief. ‘Well, that’s something, isn’t it?’

‘I take it that neither of the Roileen brothers will be granted bail whilst they wait for their trials?’ Marco asked.

‘Stanny definitely won’t. From what we gather at this stage, he was the mastermind behind everything. We’ve got him for the attacks on Clara and Jude as well as a pretty firm case for Joyce’s poisoning,’ said Binnie.

‘That’s great news.’ Marco’s arm tightened a little on Jude’s shoulders.

‘Your eyes would have popped if you found what we did when we went to have a look around the Roileen’s house,’ said Sami. ‘A bag of apricot seeds, half-empty bottle of ethanol, nut crackers, and a whole lot of other stuff I didn’t even recognise.’

‘But everything needed to make cyanide,’ said Jude. ‘You got him!’

‘That and the fact that Ted, Barbara and some of the others saw Stanny in the pub the day we went for the walk,’ Binnie said. ‘We’re still looking for evidence that he was the one to push Jim Dusk off his ladder but we might get lucky. I sent two officers round to his house earlier this morning to check things out and they’ve already got back to say they found a single white-blond hair caught in the treads of the ladder he fell from; luckily his wife hadn’t got rid of it and someone had put it back in the garden shed.’

‘Is the hair Stanny Roileen’s?’ Jude asked.

‘We haven’t had the results back yet but I think it’s a fair guess. And even if not then we will make sure we leave no stone unturned. He killed Jim Dusk, and we will find the evidence to prove it.’

Jude hugged her arms around herself. It was good news and yet it didn’t take away any of the awfulness of what had happened.

‘What about Becka’s crash?’ she asked.

Binnie shook her head. ‘That one may be more difficult to prove, I’m afraid. Not that we won’t do everything we can but it’s unlikely.’

‘I heard them talking about it, though,’ Jude said in frustration. ‘I heard Stanny confess to running her off the road. Not only that but he also said that if she’d survived he would have gone to the hospital to finish her off with a pillow.’

‘I know,’ said Binnie gently. ‘But we need more.’

‘What about Andy? He was there, can’t you get him to talk?’

‘He’s not being chatty at the moment. I think he’s in shock after last night.’

Jude knew that he had been an unwilling accomplice in his twin’s crimes but that didn’t cleanse him of any blame.

‘He was there,’ she whispered. ‘He saw what Stanny did, watched him chase Becka off the road and he did nothing.’

Jude blew out slowly as she pictured this clearly in her mind. ‘He could have saved her,’ she said. ‘If he’d called for an ambulance then, even anonymously. Those extra minutes before we found her could have been enough.’

‘But we have no proof other than your word,’ Sami said gently. ‘And you know we need more.’

Jude looked at Binnie desperately.

‘Even if we don’t find the evidence to charge him for Becka’s death, I promise they will both get the punishments they deserve,’ Binnie said. ‘We’ll be able to get him for two murders as well as the attacks on you and Clara, and the kidnapping and abuse of Kerry. With Stanny’s record, I’d say that’s enough to put him away for life.’

‘And Andy?’ Lucy asked.

‘He won’t get such a big sentence, but he played his part and he won’t get away with it.’

It was ten days before Clara was allowed to leave the hospital. Jude and Marco had been in and tidied up for her, removing the broken stool and blood-stained sofa, replacing it with one they found going for a snip on eBay. They also added a vase of autumn asters and cosmos that Lucy and Sebbie had grown in the old stone cider press, and left a tin of homemade brownies and a bottle of Westons cider on the counter.

Binnie collected Clara from hospital and they arrived back at the cottage as Jude and Marco were returning from a walk with Pip, Alfie and Rex, who had made a full recovery and was almost back to his previous bouncy self.

‘Welcome home,’ said Jude as Clara got out of the car. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Still a bit sore but much better,’ said Clara. ‘Although I still feel pretty foolish for getting so totally taken in by Andy. I really thought he was a nice guy.’

‘You had no reason to think otherwise,’ said Binnie, taking Clara’s hospital bag from the back seat of the car. ‘I think we were all convinced Phil was the one up to no good for so long that Andy and his brother managed to slip under the radar.’

Clara had dark rings under her eyes and looked as though she was ready for a good, long sleep. She perked up when Rex bounded over to welcome her back with a generous lick.

‘Hello, my handsome boy, I missed you so much.’

‘He’s been really good,’ said Marco, who’d been looking after Rex at his house and taken him to the vet for his post-op checks. ‘And I’d say he’s missed you too.’

Clara bent to stroke the soft fur around his ears and he seemed to instinctively know that she wasn’t up for his usual levels of enthusiasm.

‘I heard you were such a brave dog and you saved the day for all of us.’ She ran her fingers down the stubbly patch on his back where the fur was starting to grow back around the nearly healed scar. ‘Well, you and Jude, that is.’

Clara looked up at Jude. ‘I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to say thank you for saving my life.’

‘I think you did enough of that when I visited you in hospital,’ said Jude, who hated any form of praise. ‘Now are you up for a little celebratory cuppa and brownie or would you rather we left you to it?’

‘No contest,’ Clara grinned and they all went inside to the sitting room on her insistence. ‘I can’t avoid it forever if I’m going to carry on living in this cottage, can I?’

‘I suppose not,’ said Jude, impressed by her stoicism. ‘We have cleaned it up for you and you do have the best guard dog this side of the Malvern Hills.’

Binnie and Marco went into the kitchen to make the tea whilst Clara went over to the new sofa, with Rex glued to her side. ‘Oh my word, you even replaced this for me.’

‘It’s only second hand but it’ll do until you choose something else.’ Jude told her dogs to lie down out of Clara’s way, although she suspected Rex would probably remain closely at her side for a long time to come.

‘It’s perfect, thank you.’ Clara sat down on the sofa and stretched her legs out. ‘It’s not just me you saved that night, Jude.’ She pointed to the patch of wall where the Tamara de Lempicka painting had hung. ‘Binnie said it’s in a safe at the police station along with the sketches and letters.’

Jude nodded. ‘You can have them back whenever you like, I believe.’

Clara closed her eyes and rested her head back on the sofa. ‘Whilst I was in the hospital I couldn’t stop thinking about Great-Granny’s painting and the sketches and wondering what to do with them. It seems such a shame that the sketches are locked away, and I don’t feel safe now with the painting hanging on my wall after what happened.’

Marco had been standing in the doorway, waiting to take orders for tea and he looked at Clara quizzically. ‘Are you going to sell them?’ he asked.

Jude could read the look on his face. To him, money really didn’t bring happiness. For as long as Jude had known him, he’d led a simple life and was one of the most content people she’d ever met. But something like Clara’s painting with its provenance and family connection would mean everything to him. From the little she knew of Clara, Jude thought that she was quite similar.

‘No,’ Clara said. ‘I don’t really feel like they’re mine to sell and what would I do with all that money anyway? I’ve seen the damage a huge bank account can do to a person and it might sound strange but I think I’m genuinely happier as I am. I love my job and I can afford everything I need, so why risk that?’

Marco was nodding furiously in agreement and Jude’s heart missed a beat or perhaps two as she thought how wonderfully suited they would be to each other.

‘What have you decided to do with them?’ she asked.

‘I’m going to loan them to the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery,’ said Clara. ‘That way they still belong to me and my family and I can visit any time I like, but they’ll be safe and everyone can go and enjoy them.’

‘That sounds like a perfect idea.’ Marco smiled at her and Clara smiled back.

Jude was trying to translate the smiles, wondering if there was a spark of something more than friendship developing there, when there was a knock on the door.

‘I’ll go,’ said Jude. She was glad to have the excuse to leave the room where Marco and Clara were giving her far too much to think about.

Jude expected to see Janet Timms on the doorstep, desperate to be one of the first to welcome Clara home and stop off for a natter with her gossip fishing net ready to catch any juicy titbits she could pass on to the rest of the village. Perhaps some of the last people she had expected to see were Flo and Brian Hubbard with Hamble the terrier, and yet there they were. All three huddled together wearing matching tartan body warmers, looking anxious but expectant as Jude stared at them in surprise.

‘Is it all right that we’re here?’ Flo said.

‘Sorry,’ said Jude, who realised she hadn’t uttered a word yet. ‘Yes! Of course it is. We’ve all been wondering where you three went off to in such a hurry.’

‘I suppose we have a bit of explaining to do,’ said Brian.

‘Well, now’s as good a time as any,’ Jude said as she stepped to one side to let them in. ‘Binnie’s here too. We were about to have a cup of tea, I’m sure everyone would love you to join us.’

The Hubbards looked so apprehensive as they walked ahead of Jude into the sitting room and she felt sorry for them. She’d liked them enormously until she’d discovered what Brian had done. To burn a building down whilst there was someone inside it was a truly awful crime, and yet Brian seemed such an unlikely culprit. Still, she’d read the newspaper articles about the case. He’d admitted to the crime and been sent to prison for it.

After a chorus of surprised greetings from the others, Marco and Jude pulled some of the kitchen chairs into the sitting room so that there was somewhere for everyone to sit.

‘I must say, it’s a lovely surprise to see you three,’ said Clara. ‘I wasn’t sure if we’d upset you when you disappeared without saying goodbye.’

Jude realised that Clara had no idea that Brian was the arsonist she’d heard Becka talking about. Why would she? He had the wrong name, lived at the opposite end of the country and looked like nothing like a hardened criminal.

‘My dear girl, you couldn’t upset the sun if you told her that winter was your favourite season,’ said Flo with watery eyes. ‘She’d still shine for you.’

Clara pulled herself into a more upright position on the sofa and grimaced slightly as her wound objected to the movement.

‘Are you okay?’ Brian asked. ‘Can we get anything for you?’

‘I’m fine,’ said Clara. ‘But I’m very interested to hear your story. Where have you been these past weeks?’

‘We’ve actually been in Leominster, staying in a sweet little B&B,’ said Flo.

‘We thought a new start would be good for us,’ Brian added. ‘But we realised that we were running from the past and, when we read in the newspaper about Andy and his brother being arrested for Joyce’s murder and all those other crimes too, we thought it was time to come back.’

Brian looked at Flo, who nodded slowly for him to continue.

‘We’ve never felt as happy as we did living in Malvern but we didn’t know if we’d be welcomed by everyone who lives here. Not after the things you found out about me.’

Clara looked confused and Jude knew that this was because she was the only one who hadn’t put all the puzzle pieces together yet; Jude had told Marco the whole story one night over a bottle of wine.

‘You really don’t have to explain anything,’ said Jude.

‘We want to,’ said Flo. ‘We owe it to all of you and then you can decide whether you want us in your town or not.’

‘What’s going on?’ Clara asked.

Brian reached his hand across to rest on Flo’s lap, next to Hamble, and his wife laced her fingers into his.

‘You all know about the case that Becka and Joyce had looked into about the man who went to prison for burning down his place of work.’ Brian looked around at his audience. ‘And I can tell already that most of you know who that man was.’ His gaze settled on Clara, whose brow creased in confusion.

‘It wasn’t you?’ she said quietly.

Brian nodded. ‘I’m afraid it was and I thought that it was only a matter of time before you all looked into Becka and Joyce’s investigations and realised it. I didn’t want to put Flo through all that hatred again.’ Jude watched him brush a tear away. ‘All those eyes on us everywhere we went and all those snide comments.’

‘So you packed up and left,’ said Binnie.

‘I thought we could start again,’ said Brian. ‘But Flo was so upset, weren’t you, my love?’

‘I was. I’d finally started to build a community for the first time in my adult life and I didn’t want to keep running.’ Flo smoothed down the fur between Hamble’s ears. ‘If you’ve got time, perhaps you’ll listen to an old woman’s story.’

As they sat in Clara’s sitting room, with the remains of what had once been a thriving rambling group, Flo told them her truths behind Brian’s conviction.

She’d been married to Brian’s old boss at the warehouse, a nasty man called Howard Frisk who’d been treating Flo badly for their entire marriage. Brian, who had more than a soft spot for his boss’s wife, hated him for it and tried to persuade Flo to leave Howard but she’d been too frightened of him. He had lots of money and she thought he’d use it to track her down and make her pay.

That was when Brian impulsively decided to burn down the warehouse. He thought that if he took Howard’s income away and plunged him into a state of chaos Flo would finally be brave enough to leave.

Jude had always known that ordinary people would make extraordinarily out-of-character decisions if the stakes were high enough and this was further proof of her theory.

‘Except what I didn’t realise was that Howard was working late that night,’ Brian interjected into his wife’s story.

‘Not working so much.’ Flo raised an eyebrow. ‘Let’s just say that there were actually two people in the warehouse that night but the young lady managed to escape the fire without a backward glance.’

Jude found that she wasn’t surprised at this and shook her head as she thought of lovely Flo trapped in a marriage with a man like that.

‘You didn’t mean for him to be hurt,’ said Binnie.

‘Absolutely not,’ said Brian. ‘But that doesn’t mean that his death isn’t on my hands.’

‘Weren’t you tempted to just run off together then and try to start a new life somewhere else?’ Clara asked.

‘No,’ said Flo. ‘I must admit that I suggested it but that’s not Brian’s style. He handed himself in straight away and confessed to what he’d done.’

‘And Flo waited for me until I’d served my time and we could start with a clean slate.’

It felt like the plot of a movie and Jude was full of compassion for the couple. ‘So you changed your names and moved to Malvern.’

‘Yes, and we’ve been so happy here.’

‘Then stay,’ said Clara with passion.

‘You think so?’ Flo asked.

‘Of course I do. You’ve paid for what you did and neither of you are bad people, you were just the victims of a series of awful things happening and Brian made one bad choice.’

‘I agree,’ said Jude. ‘It’s time to put that behind you now and enjoy your lives.’

‘But what will people say about us when they find out?’ Flo asked.

‘Why will they find out?’ Binnie asked. ‘As far as I’m concerned, nothing you’ve said will leave this room, and the police records will not be made public. There’s no reason why they should be.’

Flo looked at Brian, and Jude could see hope in both of their faces.

‘Do you think we could?’ Flo asked.

‘There’s always going to be a very tiny chance that there’ll be another Becka or Joyce who stumbles across our story,’ Brian pointed out, ‘but that could happen anywhere so I think we take the advice of our good friends and stay exactly where we are.’

Flo grinned widely. She picked up Hamble’s front paws and patted them together as though the little dog was applauding the decision. ‘Hamble says what a very good idea that is.’

It didn’t take long after that for talk to turn to the events that had happened since Flo and Brian had last been in Clara’s cottage. Flo’s eyes grew round as Clara told them about the night Andy had come round for dinner.

‘He’d seemed jittery right from the beginning,’ she said. ‘Before we ate, I suggested we had a glass of wine in the sitting room to try and relax him a little and find out what he was so anxious about. We were sitting on the sofa when I heard the back door open. I remember thinking at the time that I must have been mistaken though as Rex hadn’t barked.’ She laid her hand on the German shepherd’s head. ‘Of course now I know that my poor boy had been drugged. Then, before I knew what was going on, there was a man dressed in black standing there waving a knife at me. He was shouting at Andy but I don’t remember anything that they said. In fact, I can’t remember very much until I woke up in the hospital. Luckily for me, Jude came to my rescue.’ Clara looked over at Jude. ‘You take over from here.’

Jude didn’t want to go through the events of that night any more so she gave a very short version of the awful story.

‘What a thing,’ said Flo. ‘And to think we welcomed Andy into the group.’

She didn’t add that she had been right to caution Clara and Jude about him on the walk they’d shared before Brian’s panic attack.

‘I suppose he must have been getting all his story ideas from his brother,’ said Brian.

‘He’ll have plenty of time to get some first-hand inspiration for his books now,’ said Binnie. ‘Although his compliance in the end will act in his favour when it comes to sentencing.’

It had taken a couple of days of questioning but Andy had finally broken down and given the police everything they had needed to strengthen the cases against his twin brother. He’d given a detailed account of how he’d watched his brother chase Becka off the side of Jubilee Drive and had also told them where to find the stolen car he’d been driving at the time. Tiny chips of paint that matched Becka’s car had been found on the bumper, and Stanny’s DNA was all over the steering wheel, making the case against him solid.

There had also been positive steps forward in Jim Dusk’s murder investigation. The hair found on the ladder had been a match for Stanny Roileen and there had also been positive identifications from three of Jim Dusk’s neighbours who recognised the clean-shaven man with striking white-blond hair. Nobody had seen him push Dusk’s ladder over but he had been spotted on several occasions in the village where the retired detective lived. It wouldn’t have been enough to convict Stanny but with Jude’s account of what she’d heard whilst she was hiding under the bed, and Andy’s corroboration that his brother had admitted to the murder, it was as good as a closed case.

‘It was all Stanny,’ said Brian.

‘No.’ Flo spoke with great force. ‘Stanny might have been the one to drive the car, to poison the water and to push the ladder, but Andy played his part.’

Jude thought back to the days directly after Becka’s crash. It had been Andy who had cried murder early on. He’d been quick to say that he hadn’t thought it was an accident, keen for it to be investigated as an act of road rage. Had he been trying to hide in plain sight, diverting attention from his own involvement by pointing the finger elsewhere? Or was there a chance that he wanted Stanny to be caught all along? Jude knew she’d never truly understand Andy Roileen. A submissive brother, too frightened to stand up to his twin who had been sucked into a world he hadn’t wanted to inhabit? Or perhaps a little more like Stanny than he appeared. She supposed it didn’t really matter now.

Jude was, of course, relieved that the whole thing was over and all three murders had been tied up, but her mind still wasn’t at ease. With the detective work out of the way, that just gave her more time to worry about her own future and that of the farm.

Frank was struggling and Jude knew that it was only a matter of time before he had to admit that the tenancy was too much for him. Damien was still there to do his share of the heavy lifting, but Frank didn’t like having him around any more than Noah and Jude wanted him to be there.

His farm would be the perfect place for Noah to set up and Jude knew that he’d more than earned his own tenancy. If he decided to go for it then Jude wouldn’t be able to stop him, she wouldn’t want to. And if Lucy wanted to go with him then that would be her choice and Jude would be happy for them both. But that led her back to the same old question. What would happen to her and Malvern Farm?

28

A week later, at the very end of October, it was Jude’s birthday. She wasn’t a great one for celebrations but there were enough people in her life who thought that it was important to mark. As the day approached Jude had several times had the sense that something was up when she walked in on muffled conversations that abruptly stopped and laptops that were carefully closed if she came near them.

On the morning of her birthday, Sebbie rushed into Jude’s bedroom as she was thinking about getting up.

‘Happy birthday, Aunty Judy!’ he squealed and launched himself from the floor onto the bed in a nifty dive.

Little arms wrapped themselves around her and he squashed his face against hers in a loving, if somewhat strangling hug.

‘That’s the best present anyone could have on their birthday.’ Jude hugged him tightly back but pulled her face away just a little to stop him from cracking her cheekbone.

‘That’s not your present, silly. You have to come down for that.’ Sebbie let go and grabbed Jude’s hand. He slipped off the bed and tried to pull Jude with him.

‘Just a minute, I need to put my dressing gown and slippers on.’

Sebbie ran over to the armchair by the window and picked up the towelling robe that Jude had tossed there after her shower the night before. On his way back to the bed he picked up the pair of cosy sheepskin slippers and dumped the lot on the crumpled duvet. ‘There you are,’ he said.

Jude picked the robe up and slipped one arm in before reaching behind her to find the other. With her feet in the slippers and her belt tied up, she was ready for whatever was coming her way.

Lucy was already in the kitchen with a pot of freshly brewed coffee on the table and something tasty cooking in the Aga.

‘Happy birthday, big sis.’ She wrapped Jude in a hug that rivalled Sebbie’s in feeling if not quite in strength. ‘Come and sit down. Sebbie has a whole breakfast thing planned for you and you’re not to leave the kitchen until he’s spoilt you rotten.’

‘How wonderful.’ Jude allowed herself to be pulled to the table by Sebbie where she sat down and was immediately presented with a paper crown that had been lying in wait for exactly that moment.

‘I made it for you,’ Sebbie said proudly. ‘You can wear it all day if you want.’

Jude looked at it carefully. There were crayon patterns and designs all over it and little bits of coloured paper and balls of tin foil stuck on top. ‘This is a very brilliant thing,’ she said as she put it on her head, ‘and it fits perfectly.’

Sebbie stepped back to admire his handiwork. ‘It’s still not your present, Aunty Judy.’ He scuttled off into the utility room and came back carrying what looked like an enormous red house with massive windows, a drainpipe chimney and a wheel in each corner.

‘It’s Maz,’ Sebbie said solemnly. ‘I made her out of a box and some tub lids that Noah found. Now you can have a tractor inside for when you don’t want to go out.’

Now that he mentioned it, the box creation did have more than a passing resemblance to the old tractor.

‘You are so clever,’ said Jude. ‘Shall we keep her in the sitting room so we can see her every time we sit in there?’

Sebbie grabbed the box tractor and ran off with it towards the sitting room.

‘He’s been waiting to give that to you for an age,’ Lucy chuckled as she placed a plate of bacon, baked beans, mushrooms, scrambled egg and hash browns in front of her. ‘All your favourites according to Sebbie, who put the breakfast menu together with me yesterday.’

‘Wow, this looks amazing.’ Jude’s mouth was already watering as Lucy went to the drawer for cutlery and Sebbie rushed back in to take his place next to the birthday aunt.

‘It’s funny how, according to Sebbie, your favourites happen to be the very same things that he’d put on his own birthday breakfast list.’

‘Mummy, have you given Aunty Judy your present?’

‘I was going to wait until we’d eaten our breakfast,’ said Lucy, putting plates down for herself and Sebbie.

‘I think she’d want it now, wouldn’t you, Aunty Judy?’

He looked at Jude with purpose and she just raised her eyebrow at her sister.

‘Fine.’ Lucy took two parcels wrapped in Christmas paper – something of a recent family tradition – from the drawer of the dresser.

She passed the first one, a fairly small cylindrical package, to Jude.

‘I thought you could do with your own,’ she said as Jude unwrapped the travel-sized can of hairspray.

‘Very funny,’ Jude laughed.

‘Why is it funny?’ Sebbie said. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s just a silly joke, my darling,’ said Lucy as she sat down and passed the second gift to Jude. ‘This is the real present.’

Jude peeled back the paper and found a crimson jewellery box inside. She took the lid off and lying on a velvet bed was a beautiful pendant, a perfect silver sheep whose fleece was studded with three little gems: one milky white, one green and one that looked like a tiny pearl.

‘It’s gorgeous, thank you.’ Jude took it from the box and showed it to Sebbie.

‘It looks like Pancake,’ he said.

‘I had it made specially,’ said Lucy. ‘Those are all our birthstones. Opal for you, emerald for Sebbie and pearl for me. Three parts of the same machine.’

Jude felt a catch at the back of the throat. She’d been so worried recently that she was in danger of losing her little family and yet nothing could be further from the truth. It was inevitable that they would move on at some point but Lucy was right, they’d always be part of something indestructible.

‘That’s not a machine, Mummy,’ said Sebbie. ‘That’s a sheep.’

Jude knew that there was a surprise party being planned. The fact that she wasn’t allowed to go into the lambing shed told her where it was going to be staged and the number of chairs that were being collected up and taken out gave her an indication of how many people she could expect to be there.

As she was clearly not welcome, she decided to go and spend some of her birthday time with the animals in the paddock and wandered over with Pip and Alfie. Rodney trotted over to see her as soon as she got to the gate and she gently pushed him out of the way so that she could get in with the dogs at her heel.

‘You settled in pretty quickly,’ she said as she stroked the little pony’s nose. He tossed his head and pushed into her arm. ‘If you’re looking for food then you’re out of luck, I’m afraid.’

Pancake and Gertie had also run over to say hello and Jude could see that Maud and Marlie, the teddy-like Valais Blacknose ewes, were on their way to demand their share of the love.

‘Come on, you lot.’ Jude’s heart was full as she walked through the paddock with her eclectic pack of animals for company. She took the camping chair that Mike Trout kept in the tack room and set it up next to the Runner ducks’ water-filled canoe.

It wasn’t exactly warm outside, but the sun was shining and the farm looked beautiful. Jude pulled her coat around her and sank into the chair.

She’d only been there for a few minutes when she was joined by someone who was becoming a regular at the farm.

‘All right there, Jude?’ Kerry asked. ‘I heard it’s your birthday today.’

‘Yes, I heard that too,’ said Jude. ‘Have you come to say hello to the Kerry Hills?’

Kerry had a soft spot for the sheep she shared a name with and Jude often found her talking to them when she came up to the farm. She’d been to see Jude soon after her terrible ordeal at the hands of the Roileen twins and had made it very clear that she believed she might have been the next victim on Stanny’s murder list if Jude hadn’t stepped in to single-handedly save her. Jude had tried to put her right on the matter but Kerry wouldn’t have it.

They’d spent a long afternoon in the paddock that day as Kerry had opened up about her life and fears and Jude had listened. Jude had been touched by her honesty and drive to make her life better than it was. She’d found herself offering Kerry a job, helping clean out the tents in between her camping visitors. She also gave her full use of the smallest tent. It was hardly ever rented anyway so she wasn’t really losing out, and it gave Kerry a bolthole for when things got tough at home.

She’d made up with her parents and had moved back in with them but Jude always had the feeling that she didn’t get on with her dad, who couldn’t understand why she was bothering to work for exams. He’d told her that girls like her didn’t need qualifications and Jude was delighted to see that Kerry was hellbent on showing him he was wrong.

‘I stayed over again in the tent last night.’ Kerry stroked Rodney, who’d given up searching Jude for food and had moved on to see if Kerry was a more likely treat dispenser. ‘I hope that’s okay.’

‘Of course it is,’ said Jude. ‘As long as you tell your mum where you are you can stay over any time you like, you know that.’

Kerry nodded. ‘Thanks.’

‘Are you coming to the party later?’ Jude saw a look of minor panic flash across Kerry’s face. ‘It’s all right, I don’t think anyone really thinks it’s a surprise. How could it be when the entire farm is being turned upside down?’

‘Lucy did ask me,’ Kerry looked over her shoulder towards the sheep to avoid eye contact, ‘but I said no. It’s your big day and I don’t know that I’d fit in. But happy birthday an’ all that. I ’ave got you some’ink but it’s in me tent.’

‘Kerry, you’re part of the Malvern Farm family now.’ Jude put her arm around Kerry’s shoulders. ‘I’d love for you to be there and just so you know, you fit in here just as much as any of us do.’

The lambing shed looked amazing when Jude was finally allowed to go in. The Christmas lights had been strung around the sides and two makeshift tables set out with an assortment of plates and cutlery purloined from various folk by the look of it.

‘Thank you,’ said Jude when Noah, Lucy and Sebbie led her in and told her to open her eyes. ‘It’s absolutely perfect.’

‘It’s not every year you turn the big—’ Lucy began but Jude cut her off.

‘Twenty-one, I’m sure you were about to say.’

‘Of course I was.’ Lucy grinned.

Granny Margot and Gerwain were the first to arrive, brandishing a tub of Jacinta’s famous lemon drizzle cake and a card that had been signed by all the residents of Perrins House.

Granny Margot had a subtle lilac tint to her grey bob, just visible under the wide brim of her green cloche hat felted with a bouquet of blue delphiniums and red geraniums. She was in her wheelchair so Jude bent down to give her a huge hug.

‘Happy birthday, my love.’

‘Thank you.’ Jude took over from Gerwain and pushed Granny Margot to a cosy spot, then she pulled up a chair for herself so they could have a chat whilst Noah fetched drinks for everyone.

Soon the shed started to fill up with the patchwork of folk who enriched Jude’s life. Clara was talking to Flo and Brian, Mike and Val Trout had formed a group with Ted and Barbara from the pub and Mrs James from the village shop and Binnie and Sami were laughing about something together. Spud Andrews was there with his new girlfriend and Frank came with a vial of what turned out to be sperm.

‘Noah said you were hoping to breed from those Valais Blacknoses of yours,’ he said. ‘These swimmers have come from good pedigree stock so you get that in those ewes of yours and you’ll have littluns on the farm come the spring.’

‘That’s such a brilliant present.’ Jude hugged Frank. ‘Thank you.’

Frank blushed and Jude thought again how tired he looked.

She didn’t see Marco arrive but was suddenly aware of his arm around her waist as he pulled her in and kissed her once on each cheek.

‘This is some do,’ he said.

‘Lucy has always loved a big party.’ Jude tingled from the feel of his hand in the small of her back and didn’t want to move for fear of breaking the magic. ‘Any excuse.’

‘Well, what better excuse than you?’

Marco’s eyes lingered on hers for a moment and Jude wondered if the connection between them had actually turned into visible waves of buzzing electricity.

‘Sorry.’ Marco pulled away abruptly. ‘I’m hogging the birthday girl.’

Jude’s disappointment was real but then what had she expected? Marco had made it clear on several occasions in the past that he wanted more than friendship and she had pushed him away every time. If she wanted to change her mind, then she would have to be the one to grab the bull by its horns and let him know. But that decision was for another day. Right then there was a whole barn full of people to mingle and share her day with.

‘I think Binnie’s wanting a word,’ Marco said. ‘She keeps glancing over as though she doesn’t want to interrupt but I’d say there’s definitely something on her mind.’

Jude looked over and waved at her friend to come and join them.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Marco, and he wandered off to have a chat with Clara.

‘He didn’t leave because of me, did he?’ Binnie asked.

‘Yes,’ said Jude. She waited a beat before cracking a smile. ‘But I’m glad he did. You look as though you’ve got something to tell me.’

‘Gosh, am I that obvious?’ Binnie asked.

‘Again, yes.’ Jude shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’s one of the things I love about you. Now, spill. What’s the news?’

‘I just thought you should know that Phil Mason has been arrested.’

‘No!’ Jude hadn’t heard anything from Joyce’s nephew since the day she’d taken a casserole around to his house and discovered the memory stick in his toilet. ‘How?’

‘The files that Becka was keeping were more revealing than we thought when it came to his business. Our team of experts used them to uncover a number of fraud cases and he’s not going to wriggle out of them this time.’

Jude wondered if she should feel glad that he would pay for his greed but she couldn’t raise any kind of emotion. Phylis would be devasted and that was not something for anyone to feel glad about. She thought for a moment about that sunny morning when Binnie had taken her to British Camp for her first walk with the Malvern Roaming and Rambling Society. It was hard to imagine that it had been such a short time ago and yet so much had happened to all of them. Not one life had been untouched and Jude sent a silent prayer up to the two members who had paid the biggest price.

The party went on well into the evening, with people disappearing at various points to get back to work, their animals, the care home or other commitments. Eventually it was only Jude, Lucy, Noah, Marco, Binnie and Sami left picking at a tray of cheese and biscuits whilst Sebbie slept on a hay bale wrapped up in a blanket that Noah had fetched from the pink cottage.

‘I’d better get this little tyke to bed,’ said Lucy, ‘otherwise he’ll get a second lease of life just as the rest of us are planning on turning in.’

Noah stood up. ‘I’ll help you.’ He walked over to the sleeping child and gently scooped him up. Sebbie made only the smallest of objections before falling asleep again on Noah’s shoulder.

‘Be back in a minute,’ said Lucy.

Jude watched them go with the familiar mix of love, joy and anxiety at the closeness of the little bundle of three.

‘Have you had a good birthday then, Jude?’ Marco asked.

‘The best,’ said Jude. ‘But there’s so much cheese left over so you’re all going to have to sit here until it’s gone, I’m afraid.’

She leant across and sliced off a chunk of Worcester Hop but as she brought her hand back she somehow caught the stem of her wine glass, which toppled onto her lap, soaking her jeans.

‘Bugger it.’ She stood up abruptly. ‘Well, at least it was white wine, I suppose. Please excuse me whilst I go and slip into something more comfortable.’

There were snorts of laughter from her friends as she made a show of smoothing down her hair, holding her head up in the most aristocratic way she could manage and sashaying from the barn.

Jude tiptoed through the door into the kitchen so as not to wake Sebbie and went into the utility room where she thought she had a clean pair of jogging bottoms drying on the airer. She stripped off the wet jeans and underwear and threw them into the washing machine before pulling on dry knickers and searching for her jogging bottoms. Not exactly partywear but who would actually care?

The sound of Lucy and Noah’s voices drifted through the door as they came into the kitchen together. She didn’t want to be caught in her underwear so she kept quiet as she searched along the lines of the airer for the elusive joggers before remembering that she’d tidied them away up to her bedroom that morning.

‘Thanks for helping me with Sebbie,’ Lucy said. ‘He loves you so much.’

‘You know I love you both as well,’ said Noah. ‘And I’ve been thinking a lot about that recently.’

Jude felt as though she shouldn’t be there, listening in to this intimate conversation, but she didn’t really know how to extricate herself from the situation.

‘What are you doing?’ Lucy asked. ‘Noah?’

‘I’m getting down on my knee so I can do this properly, aren’t I?’

Jude could picture the scene and her heart leapt as Noah asked the question that she had known would be coming.

‘Lucy, will you marry me?’

Jude waited for the yes but there was a pause before Lucy answered. ‘I can’t. You know I love you and I’d marry you in a shot if it was just me and Sebbie but I couldn’t do that to Jude. She needs me here with her.’

In that moment, Jude knew that it didn’t matter what the logistics were or what the future held, Lucy was being offered her chance of happiness. The sort of happiness that Jude had cherished so much during her marriage to Adam. And she was not going to let Lucy throw it away for her sake.

Forgetting for a moment that she was wearing nothing on her lower half except a pair of sensible knickers that were nearing the end of their life, she rushed out of the utility room to the obvious shock of both Lucy and Noah.

‘Say yes, you muppet,’ she said. ‘Don’t for a second think that I want you to bend your life to suit mine. Take the chances offered and make a life that suits you.’

‘Jude? Where the hell did you pop up from?’ Lucy asked.

‘I was in the utility room and I heard you,’ Jude replied. ‘I love you for thinking of me but I’ll be absolutely fine. Marry Noah, take on Frank’s tenancy, be happy. Just come and visit me lots.’

‘Hang on,’ said Noah. ‘Take on the tenancy? That was never on the cards.’

‘It wasn’t?’ Jude asked.

‘Of course not. Where on earth did you get that from?’

‘I just assumed,’ said Jude. ‘I thought it would be perfect for you.’

‘Malvern Farm is perfect for me,’ said Noah. ‘It’s where I belong, I thought I’d made that clear.’

Jude felt an enormous rush of relief as she let go of the fear she’d been holding on to. ‘Well, then move into the farmhouse here instead. We can do a swap and I’ll go and live in the pink cottage. It’s perfect for one.’

‘Well now, let’s not jump the gun,’ said Noah.

‘There’s no way we’re chasing you out of your own home,’ said Lucy.

‘Then we’ll find another solution. We could all live here together, there’s masses of space and Noah’s already part of the furniture.’

Lucy looked at Noah with a question on her face.

‘Works for me,’ said Noah. ‘If you’re really happy with that.’

‘I am,’ said Jude. ‘I really am.’

‘In that case, I guess we’re getting married.’ Lucy threw her arms around Noah and kissed him before breaking free to draw Jude into a hug.

‘I love you, Judy,’ she whispered into her ear, ‘but did you know you’re only wearing a pair of pants?’

That night, Jude lay in bed thinking about the day and everything that had happened. There were no certainties about the future, there never were, but she had a warm and hopeful feeling about where things were heading for her family. There was a wedding to plan and Lucy and Noah had made it clear that it was their choice to stay on at Malvern Farm and live with her in the farmhouse, leaving the pink cottage free for them to offer Frank now that he’d severed his tenancy agreement. Of course, there would be a time when they would want space of their own, and perhaps she would get to the point when she was ready for that too, but they would cross that bridge when they got to it. For now, it was enough to know that the humans she loved most in the world were all safely sleeping under the same roof as she was.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The team behind the Malvern Farm books has been such a powerhouse since my wonderful agent, Amanda Preston, first fell for Jude and her adventures. Jude and I wouldn’t be where we are now if it wasn’t for her and my lovely editor, Emily Yau, who bought the series and helped it fly. Nor would it have happened without the incredible and varied talents of so many of the Boldwood team.

Having you all on my side means the earth to me and I am as grateful to you for this, the fourth book, as I was for the very first.

I am delighted that Boldwood have agreed to extend the series, meaning there will be a total of eight books by the end of 2027. Plenty of time to play with and develop the Malvern Farm family.

A huge thank you to the marvellous independent bookshops who have championed and sold the series. To Alex at Four Bears in Caversham, Leena at Scripthaven in Worcester, the team of volunteers at Malvern Book Cooperative and Siân at The Violet Bookshop in Upton upon Severn. All are definitely worth a visit if you’re in the area – if you drop in then say hello from me!

Thank you to my ever-patient family – living with a writer is not always easy – and to my wonderful friends for being so supportive and generally fabulous.

And to every single one of you who read this or another Malvern Farm mystery – thank you! I have been blown away by the number of copies sold, the reviews given and the warmth I’ve felt when talking to readers. I am very lucky and will never ever take this journey for granted.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kate Wells is the author of a number of well-reviewed books for children, and is now writing cosy crime set in the Malvern hills, inspired by the farm where she grew up.

ALSO BY KATE WELLS

Murder on the Farm

Stranger in the Village

A Body by the Henhouse

Death in the Hills

First published in Great Britain in 2024 by Boldwood Books Ltd.

Copyright © Kate Wells, 2025

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Cover Photography: iStock

The moral right of Kate Wells to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Paperback ISBN 978-1-78513-449-4

Large Print ISBN 978-1-78513-450-0

Hardback ISBN 978-1-78513-448-7

Ebook ISBN 978-1-78513-451-7

Kindle ISBN 978-1-78513-452-4

Audio CD ISBN 978-1-78513-443-2

MP3 CD ISBN 978-1-78513-444-9

Digital audio download ISBN 978-1-78513-447-0

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