Death at Rainbow Cottage by Jo Allen (book club books txt) 📗
- Author: Jo Allen
Book online «Death at Rainbow Cottage by Jo Allen (book club books txt) 📗». Author Jo Allen
‘I know you’ll find a lot of opposition to the idea, but there’s a lot of support, too. The problem is that we’re a very traditional society. But there are plenty of people like myself.’ George patted his chest, exactly the point where the knife had struck Len Pierce. Natalie shivered.
‘Glad to hear it, George.’
‘I’m not gay myself, you understand, but I’m definitely an ally. My late wife was very outspoken on the subject. Love is love. The Rainbow Festival isn’t a moment before time and if there’s anything I can do to help, say the word.’
‘Speak at your church,’ Claud responded, with spirit. ‘Traditional doesn’t explain everything. People need to learn that traditional values are those of inclusiveness. It isn’t modern. It’s natural.’
‘Claud,’ Natalie said, ‘should we go home? You’ve had such a dreadful shock. It was Claud who found the body in the churchyard, Mr Meadows. I think I should take him home.’
‘You found the body?’ That stopped him. She looked at him, blinking under the streetlight. ‘I didn’t realise. That’s an awful business. What a terrible shock. Perhaps you want to come back to my house and have a brandy or something to pep you up? I’m in William Street, not far at all.’
All Natalie wanted was to go home. ‘Thank you so much, Mr Meadows, but I really think we need to get back.’
‘That’s probably right.’ Always reluctant to tear himself away from an eager listener Claud picked up the message, but he couldn’t quite disengage himself as easily as Natalie would have liked. It’s great to meet you, though, George. And I’d love to talk to you more about the festival.’
‘You know how it is. Folk listen to gay allies like you and me more than they listen to others. It shouldn’t be like that but it is.’
‘Nat and I’ll be going round some of the other churches in the area to drum up support, but we really need people like you — enthusiastic people within the congregations who can change from within and bring them into the modern world.’
Sometimes Claud got carried away. Natalie wasn’t a churchgoer herself but her parents had been, and her image of the church was formed in the image of her mother, one of gentle tolerance and a judgement only of oneself. Of course, this wasn’t the whole truth, but it was surely no further removed from reality than Claud’s view of the organisation as a brake on the advance of modernity. ‘Claud. This isn’t the time. We need to go home.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ Once more he turned to her, then back to George. ‘It would be so wonderful to have your input.’
‘Perhaps you could pop round and visit me and we could discuss it. You could come round one evening. Apart from Tuesdays, when I’m bell ringing, I’ll be in. I don’t socialise much since Michelle died. And I’m handy for here. Just on the corner of William Street.’
‘I’d love to.’ Claud fished in his pockets for a pen.
‘Claud!’ said Natalie one final time, as he scribbled the address on the back of his hand. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I’ll be in touch,’ Claud said to the man, and allowed Natalie to tuck her hand through his arm again and guide him down the street. ‘Nice bloke. I remember talking to him a couple of weeks ago. He’s one of the bell ringers, I think. A really interesting guy. Car mechanic. Not that I know anything about cars. But I’ll definitely follow up and go and see him. He’s the kind of man we need on our side. And Inspector Dodd, too. I really like that man. Though I can’t say I like the phrase gay ally. We’re all just normal.’
Cars, bell ringers, dead bodies in the churchyard. Natalie would have strange dreams that night. Maybe she should take an extra tablet. ‘You’re too good, Claud. Far too good.’
‘But what a nice bloke he was. And so solicitous. Yes, I’ll definitely look him up. Talk to him one evening while you go for your run. He could really help us with the Rainbow Festival.’ And finally Claud gave up on the distractions around them and headed for home.
Chapter 12
‘Okay. Ashleigh. Perhaps you want to tell us what you’ve found out about Gracie Pepper?’ Jude stifled a yawn and reached for his coffee. He’d stolen a few hours’ sleep and hoped she’d done the same, but even making a conscious effort to rest hadn’t been much help and he’d lain awake for much of the few hours he’d spent in bed, running things through, thinking of options, trying out scenarios as to how the murderer had got away. Even in his sleep he’d been weighing up evidence. Now the major early-morning briefing was over, the various personnel deputed to their tasks and his concentration was wavering even further as Faye made her way across the incident room. He kept one eye on her as she wove through the desks, stopping occasionally for a word with one of the detectives, towards the table where Jude had assembled his core team of Ashleigh, Chris and Doddsy.
‘Okay.’ Ashleigh cleared her throat, blinking at the notes in front of her as the only sign of tiredness and spilled a picture of Gracie — long auburn hair in a riot of pre-Raphaelite curls, a serious expression that couldn’t conceal a love of life — onto the table in front of her. ‘We were able to identify her straight away. Phil Garner knew her. She was—’
‘May I interrupt?’ Faye reached them at the dramatic moment. ‘Thanks for the email update, Jude. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to speak to you about it earlier on, but I was in a meeting. The local press. It’s hardly surprising they’re a little over-excited. May I sit in for a moment, to keep myself fully up to date?’
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