Death on the Lake by Jo Allen (early reader books TXT) 📗

She turned her back on her husband, pretending to watch Aida’s car heading down the drive and disappearing into the green dale and using that as a shield to cover her texting. Where?

Old George’s house. As soon as you can.

‘A walk? I’ll come with you,’ said Robert, cheerfully. ‘Just for ten minutes, to clear my head. Aida found a mistake in some numbers, and thank God she did, but I think we’ve sorted it. I have time. And I daresay you’ll be much happier with some company.’

Normally she’d have treasured a moment like that, because they were so rare, but today the last thing she needed was his presence as she set out to handle the twins. Since confession of her fears to Robert, he’d been carefully solicitous of her, looking out for her wherever she went. This was ironic, because telling him of her fears had liberated her from them in a way she didn’t understand. ‘Are you sure you have time? I thought I’d take a walk up Martindale.’

‘I can come with you as far as the bridge, at least.’

The police had finished there. Luke’s body had been taken away, the threatening white tent had been removed and you’d never know it had been the scene of so violent a death. ‘I’ll be all right. You know I will.’

‘Call me over-cautious, but I’m still a bit uncomfortable about you being out. Things being what they are.’

‘You mean Luke? It’ll have been to do with his private life.’ Summer’s death, not just unexplained but somehow inexplicable, troubled her more than Luke’s. She’d seen for herself how quick Luke had been to anger, and his reputation went before him. There were plenty of people in Pooley Bridge who didn’t like him, and you never knew how long or how deeply people could bear a grudge. ‘His former girlfriend’s new partner is ex-army I think. There’s more than a bit of needle there. I imagine that’s where the police are looking.’ Though she vaguely recalled hearing someone in the post office saying that the man was working out on what was left of the oil rigs and so in the clear.

‘I still don’t like the idea of you being on your own.’

‘I won’t be. I’m going to walk up and meet the boys. They were out early.’

A shadow passed over Robert’s face. ‘I hope they’ve had enough sense not to do something else stupid. They’re getting out of hand. Their mother spoils them. I’ll have to get more involved.’

They let themselves out of the house and walked down the drive, hand in hand, past the newly-installed CCTV cameras. It had been another rainy night and a dull morning but the May sun had crawled out from its nest in the clouds and gathered strength. Steam rose from the wet tarmac and the smell of the countryside, fresh and clean, lifted her optimism. Of course Ollie and Will wouldn’t be in any more trouble. They’d just be wanting her help to get Robert to relax his attitude.

‘The trouble with Luke,’ said Robert, as they approached the bridge, ‘is that he antagonised everyone.’

‘Yes.’ Miranda hesitated. She knew she’d have to cross it at some point, but she wouldn’t look down. Not this time. ‘It was horrible finding him, but do you know the strange thing?’

‘What?’

‘I wasn’t afraid. Even though I could see he was dead and I could tell that it had happened so recently and it was so obviously deliberate, I never felt in any danger. It made me think. If someone wanted to kill me they’d have done it by now. They’ve had so many opportunities.’

‘Yes. And now you’ve told me I’ll make damned certain you’re looked after. You’re safe enough here. We’ve got the CCTV. But even in London, or anywhere else. You’ll be safe. And anyway the police are floating around. Up at Howtown, I think, still asking questions about what someone might have seen. So if you need any help, all you need to do is shout and they’ll come running.’

‘Oh, Robert. I wish I’d told you the truth years ago.’

They stood on the bridge and kissed like teenagers, and after a moment he stepped back. ‘I’d better get back. I don’t want Aida to find out I’ve been playing truant.’

‘I don’t expect I’ll be long.’

Leaving him behind her, she summoned her courage to cross the bridge and walked past George’s house and up to the church, where she stood beside the rolls of turf that barely covered George’s two-day-old grave, and stood there paying silent respects until she was sure her husband was out of sight. Then it was time to sort out whatever mess the twins had got into.

Robert was right. They were getting out of hand. Going into George’s house was too bad, and even if they didn’t want to be seen they could surely have found somewhere a little more respectful. She supposed she’d have to try and reason with them and hope they listened, because if their father decided to come down hard on them there would be trouble and misery all around. She’d no doubt he’d take the fight all the way if he had to, cutting off their allowances and only breeding resentment. She wanted neither to take the blame nor to be too obviously on their side. Tricky, but something she was confident she could solve.

They wouldn’t have forced entry to the cottage. Everybody in the dale knew under exactly which loose flagstone George kept his spare key. Miranda went up the path and put her hand to the door, opened it and stepped inside. She closed it carefully behind her so as not to attract attention. She, too, was trespassing. Someone — one of the family, presumably — had been in and closed the curtains as a mark of respect for the funeral and had yet to come in and open them. The place was oppressively dim and smelt of plain food and stale tobacco. ‘Ollie? Will?’

There was silence,