The Distant Dead by Lesley Thomson (most difficult books to read .txt) 📗

‘She’s right,’ Stella had said.

‘I don’t think Andrea is a murderer.’ Promising to keep them posted, Jack had sped off down the high street.

This had delayed Stella getting to Cloisters House to clean for Felicity. The front door was open. Stella knocked and waited. The door was probably open for her. With the tip of her finger she pushed on it.

‘Felicity?’ After finding Clive dead in a house with the door ajar, Stella feared the worse.

She told herself Felicity was making a point about punctuality. She had disapproved of Andrea being late for the Death Café. Or Felicity had forgotten Stella was coming and had gone out without locking up. Stella stamped on the tiles to announce her presence.

‘Hi, Felicity, I’ve come to clean.’ She pushed on the green baize door and ventured down the passage. Light from the kitchen cast a sheen on the brick floor. Distantly, Stella noted it was clean. The door to the utility room where Felicity stored mops, vacuum and other cleaning equipment was shut. Stella felt unwilling to open it although it was precisely where she could legitimately go. Heart in her mouth, she turned the handle.

A body was spread-eagled on the stone flags, the head jammed against the washing machine.

For a split second, Stella supposed it should be in Felicity’s morgue, then she realized. The body was Felicity.

‘Felicity.’ Stella flung herself down beside the motionless figure. She put a finger to her neck but she couldn’t feel a pulse.

‘What’s happened?’

The voice came from behind Stella. Whipping around she saw Joy framed in the doorway. ‘Call an ambulance, now.’

‘Is that necessary?’ Clutching some papers, Joy remained motionless. ‘Of course, I will, but even paramedics can’t wake the dead, as Felicity would be the first to tell you.’

‘Not another murder,’ Stella gasped.

‘No wild theories please. Felicity is an old woman. It’ll be a stroke or she missed her step and hit her head.’ Joy put her papers on the washing machine. ‘Let me.’

She squatted beside Stella and leant down, putting her ear to Felicity’s chest. Then she sat up. ‘Oh dear.’

There was a noise. Gurgling. A groan. Felicity opened her eyes.

‘She’s alive,’ Stella shouted.

‘I told you it wasn’t murder.’ Joy hauled herself to her feet and took up her papers. She reached into a small fabric bag strapped across her chest, with, Stella noticed without noticing, Tewkesbury Abbey on the side, and fiddled with it. Seeing Stella’s glance, Joy said, ‘I’ve got brandy in here somewhere.’

‘I hate the stuff.’ Felicity began to turn over.

‘Stay still. You might have broken something. Joy, could you get a cushion from the lounge?’ Stella wished Bev was there, Stella’s first-aid training wasn’t current.

‘I am a doctor, my knowledge of anatomy is second to none. Physician heal thyself.’ Felicity pushed herself to sitting and rubbed her temple. ‘I have merely suffered a blow to the head.’

‘Merely?’ Stella spotted something on the floor. An iron, the plastic casing cracked. She picked it up, gathering shards of the casing from the floor. Looking at a shelf above the washing machine she asked, ‘Did this fall on you?’

‘I wish.’ Felicity got to her feet. ‘Someone sneaked in when my back was turned and,’ she looked at Joy, ‘I assume the iron was the only weapon to hand.’

‘I hope you’re not accusing me.’ Joy was hugging the cushion she had brought.

‘What are you doing here?’ Felicity began to get up.

‘I came to give you the revised service sheets, to save you a trip to the abbey. Goodness knows I wish I hadn’t if I’m to be held responsible—’

‘Calm yourself, Joy,’ Felicity rapped. ‘Who’s doing the solo for “Once in Royal David’s City”?’

‘You know we choose on the night, like at King’s.’ Joy tssked. ‘Perhaps now you won’t be up to coming, though?’

‘The swine only gave me a tap, my skull is as strong as an ox. I shall be there.’ Moving carefully, Felicity pottered up the passage. ‘Although, with this rain and so many yellow flood warnings, it will doubtless be cancelled.’

‘I for one shall play to an empty abbey,’ Joy said as she and Stella followed Felicity to the front room. ‘We’re doing the King’s 1940 service – I think we could show some wartime spirit, don’t you?’

‘We might be better doing Noah’s Flood.’ Felicity was examining her forehead in the mirror above the fireplace. ‘See? I’ve not lost my sense of humour.’

‘Did you see who hit you?’ Stella asked.

‘They would have been dead next to me if I had,’ Felicity snapped.

‘Coo-ee?’ The call echoed in the tiled hall. ‘Anyone home?’

‘In here.’ Stella was relieved to hear Lucie then sick with worry. Had something happened to Jack and Beverly?

‘Fancy.’ Lucie saw Joy. ‘Three’s a crowd, four is a party.’

‘This is not a party. Joy says she was dropping something off and Stella is here to clean.’ Felicity was frosty. ‘Have we met?’

‘I’m Stella’s minder.’ Lucie did her trademark cackle. ‘After she was attacked on the weir the other night, I’m keeping a weather eye. She hates me fussing, but fussing saves lives.’

‘What attack?’ Felicity looked shocked. ‘Stella, you never said.’

‘I’m fine, they only took my bag.’ Stella was annoyed. ‘Is it Jack? Or Bev?’

‘Who? Never heard of them. No.’ Lucie flapped a hand.

‘Felicity was just attacked too.’ Wilting with real relief, Stella sat on the sofa beside Felicity then promptly got up. She was there to clean.

‘Failed robbery, not like poor Stella’s beating. Did they find anything valuable?’

‘No.’

‘If Stella and, of course, Joy hadn’t come when they did, the thugs would have— The little shits.’ Felicity was staring at the mantelpiece. ‘They’ve taken my cartilage knife.’

‘What did it look like?’ Joy asked.

‘A knife is what it looked like – with a sharp blade.’ Felicity eyed Joy.

‘The police will insist you provide a detailed description and estimate of value.’ Joy seemed unfazed by Felicity’s impatience with her.

‘It belonged to Sir Aleck Northcote, it was in that case.’ To Stella’s surprise, Felicity was fighting tears as