A Body in Seaview Grange by Dee MacDonald (jenna bush book club TXT) 📗

‘You can imagine how distressing it is for me to have poor Edina dying too.’ He mopped his eyes again. ‘It brings my wife’s death back.’

Kate had the distinct impression he was trying to steer the conversation away from the subject of his old parish. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘Are you sure there’s no one I can call? Do you have a family?’

‘No, we were never blessed with children.’ He stared out the window with a faraway look in his eyes. ‘We both devoted our lives to the community.’

‘You must be lonely now.’

‘Well, I am lonely at times, but that’s no excuse for me to monopolise your time, Nurse. I mustn’t be keeping you from your important duties.’ He put down the mug and got to his feet. As he escorted her to the door, he said, ‘I try to spread God’s word to my neighbours, of course, and also to help in practical ways.’ His eyes misted again. ‘I shall never forgive myself for not knocking at Edina’s door.’

Kate thought it best to try to steer him away from the subject of Edina Martinelli. ‘Well, look after that knee and try to do a little more walking now,’ she said.

As she was about to take her leave he grabbed her wrist. ‘Edina was convinced someone wanted to kill her, you know. I rather fear they may have succeeded because I’m not at all sure that she died of natural causes.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Kate asked, intrigued.

‘Firstly, because she was a very healthy lady but, most of all, nearly everyone in this building, apart from myself and her dear friend, Hetty, hated her.’

‘Hated her? That’s a very strong accusation,’ Kate said.

‘Strong but true,’ he replied. ‘You mark my words.’

I will, Kate thought, I will.

Six

When she descended back into the hallway she found the four residents still there chatting. Cornelius Crow, she noted, was wearing a cape and looked like he might have just flown in from Transylvania.

‘How is he?’ Sharon asked, inclining her head upwards.

‘Oh, his knee is doing well,’ Kate said, unwilling to get bogged down in what appeared to be an ongoing gossip session.

‘No, not his knee!’ Gloria Pratt said impatiently. ‘How’s he? Edgar? He was mad about Edina, wasn’t he, Ollie?’

‘He was,’ Ollie confirmed, ‘but it was unrequ…’ He struggled for a moment. ‘But she didn’t fancy him.’

‘Unrequited love,’ Cornelius supplied.

‘That’s it,’ agreed Ollie.

‘Well, at least now it should be quieter,’ Sharon added as Kate edged past.

‘Nowhere quieter than the grave,’ droned Cornelius Crow.

Kate nodded, grimaced and finally made it out the door.

When she got to her car a large Audi pulled up alongside and David Courtney emerged. Kate hesitated for a moment, feeling she should convey some sympathy to Edina Martinelli’s stepson.

‘I’m so sorry about your stepmother,’ she said.

He stopped in his tracks. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it’s kind of you to say so but I’m not particularly sorry about my stepmother.’

‘Oh,’ Kate said, recalling the argument they were having when she first went to visit Edina. ‘I know it’s not quite the same as losing your natural mother…’

‘Apparently, my natural mother died not long after I was born, and my father wasted no time in finding someone else,’ he said. ‘So, one way or the other, I’ve not had much luck with mothers.’

‘No,’ Kate agreed as he headed towards the door, ‘but, if there’s anything I can do…’

‘Thanks,’ he said shortly and gave a brief wave before disappearing inside.

As she drove away Kate felt incredibly sorry for David Courtney. To never have known your own mother, and then to have a stepmother who you didn’t get on with – how awful!

And, try as she might, she could not imagine Edina Martinelli being particularly maternal.

‘There are some characters up there at the Grange,’ Kate informed her sister when she got home in the late afternoon. ‘There’s the ancient vicar with a new knee who, apparently, was in love with Edina, the deceased, but she didn’t fancy him. He used to live somewhere called Little Barrington, and I have a feeling our cousin Pam lives in Little Something-or-Other, doesn’t she? There is the chubby old couple who don’t look like the normal well-heeled residents, and a cadaverous old man who looks like something out of a horror film and who’s apparently a writer. And Edina sang all day and drove all the other residents mad. You couldn’t make it up!’

‘Yeah, right,’ Angie said. ‘Is it too early for a gin?’

‘For God’s sake!’ Kate consulted her watch. ‘It’s only five o’clock!’

‘Well, it’s six o’clock in most of the rest of Europe and I’m feeling very European today.’

Kate sighed as she gazed out the window down to the valley, at the shops and restaurants which lined the banks of the River Pol as it wound its way to the sea, which could be seen clearly as it crashed its way onto the beach.

‘Perhaps I’ll pop down to The Greedy Gull,’ Angie said.

Des, the landlord, who knew a good customer when he saw one, always had one hand on the gin bottle and the other on a glass the moment she walked in the door.

‘What about your masterpieces out in the summerhouse?’ Kate asked.

After years as a not-very-successful actress, Angie had decided to be an artist and had commandeered the pretty summerhouse for this purpose. It now had to be called ‘the studio’. She’d spent most days daubing paint on large canvases and had even befriended the owner of the local gallery and persuaded him to display some of her work. She had two canvases on display there, neither of which had sold and Kate suspected she was losing interest. And, now Fergal was on the scene, she spent a lot of time phoning him, getting ready for his visits, talking about him, and her time in the ‘studio’ had rapidly diminished.

‘So are we going to have a gin then?’ Angie asked.

Kate sighed. ‘Oh go on then!’

It was one