Page 37 of A Village Theatre Murder
‘Sean,’ she took his hand, and spoke softly. ‘There’s no pressure. Of course I want to see you, but I am absolutely willing to wait until you think the time is right. You must do what’s best for Jono, and for your relationship with him.’
‘Thank you. I do worry. He’s quite vulnerable, I think. And it sounds like he’s been drinking a lot. Not now, but when he was in London. He had the most frightful hangover when I collected him. I’m trying to encourage him to see a professional. A doctor or a psychologist. He’s always resisted, but he’s a bit more open to it now. He can see he needs help. I’m hopeful that while he’s here, he’ll agree.’
‘I can see he’s calmer already. Being with you is grounding; it’s good for him.’
‘I think it’s being with Leo that calms him.’ Sean laughed, but Julia could tell he was only half joking.
‘He’s brilliant with dogs.’
‘If he had to deal with dogs instead of people, he’d be just fine, that boy of mine.’
There was something wistful and sad in Sean’s tone, but he rallied quickly, with rather forced good cheer. ‘Well, I’d best be getting home. Drive safe, love.’
‘You too. Chat in the morning.’
19
Julia picked up her phone to do the Wordle while she waited for the tea to brew, and saw she had a missed call. A phone call from an unknown number was a rare occurrence, and it always gave her a funny anxious feeling. This particular mystery was quickly solved by the text message:Hello Mrs Bird. It’s Hannah here, Jane’s daughter. I tried to phone. It’s about my mum. Please give me a call as soon as you can. Thanks. Hannah
Hannah picked up the phone on the second ring. She must have been waiting with it in her hand.
‘Thank you for phoning back, Mrs Bird.’ She sounded relieved, as if she had been holding her breath and could now let it out. ‘I’m sorry to phone so early, but it’s about my mum. The police came yesterday afternoon and asked her to come in and answer some questions. They kept her overnight. I had to take her a bag. I’ve called her lawyer, but Mum told me to get hold of you for her.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. Julia Bird. She said you’re a sensible woman and you understand the system. She said you would know what to do.’
Julia was positively flummoxed at this turn of events. She did not, at all, know what to do. She didn’t even know what to say.
‘Will you help us, Mrs Bird? I wouldn’t ask, but I’m here with the baby and I don’t know who to speak to about anything. My husband’s gone to London for work. My dad is gone. And now my mum…I wouldn’t ask, but…will you help me?’
Julia sighed, inwardly. She knew that there was only ever one answer to that question, whether she liked it or not.
‘I’d like to help you, Hannah, and I’m sorry for your troubles, but I’m not sure what, if anything…’
‘Please. I don’t know who else to ask. Can we just meet for coffee? The Buttered Scone?’
Julia really, really wished she could just say no, but just saying no wasn’t in her nature. She thought of poor Hannah, alone with baby Tom. And poor Jane in jail overnight.
‘Just a coffee?’ Hannah said, her voice catching.
‘Of course. I’ll see you there at eleven. And please, call me Julia.’
The Buttered Scone was already humming with customers, many of them out-of-towners on a day trip or a weekend away, enjoying the pretty villages of the Cotswolds. Of which Berrywick was one of the prettiest, and somewhat less overrun than some of the others. Summer was the high season for visitors, but in Julia’s opinion, this early autumn was just as lovely, maybe more so, with the trees turning their golds and reds, the light bright and soft, and the villages not too busy.
Julia found a table in the window, where she could keep an eye out for Hannah, and sat down. She was, as usual, about three minutes early. ‘It’s a curse,’ she said to Jake, who had plonked his bottom down on the floor next to her chair, and was looking up at her expectantly. ‘I’ve tried to be late, but I can’t.’
She really wished she hadn’t weakened and agreed to meet Hannah. It seemed like a meeting with a high chance of something going wrong. Julia didn’t know how much Hannah knew about her parents’ relationship, which seemed, increasingly, to have been more troubled than one might have imagined. Jane certainly seemed to be close to Oscar, her old friend, from what Julia had seen of the two of them together. Hadthatbeen the cause of the impending divorce? Was Jane involved with Oscar? If so, the police had good reason to be questioning Jane.
Or had Graham had his own reasons for wanting out of the marriage?
Julia thought back to the funeral, and the weeping woman who had worked for him, the mascara-smeared girl she’d seen in the ladies’. Bethany, that was her name. Her colleagues hadn’t had a kind word for her, that’s for sure. In fact, they had implied that she had a cheek being at the funeral at all. Was it perhaps Graham who had been having the affair – and with young Bethany, at that? Either way, speaking to Hannah would be a minefield.
Julia saw something that stopped her thoughts in their tracks. As if by some strange conjuring trick of the universe, Bethany herself had materialised next to Julia’s table. She looked down at Julia, first with a moment of confusion, as if trying to remember when they’d met, and then with a nod of recognition. She turned quickly away from her, as if avoiding any possible interaction, and walked towards the door, followed closely by none other than Superintendent Roger Grave.
He walked behind Bethany, carrying her wrap, which he laid tenderly over her shoulders as they stepped outside the Buttered Scone. He turned her to face him and pulled the shawl up, tucking it around her neck, as one might tuck a child into bed. With his hands on her shoulders, he looked deeply into her eyes, and pulled her quickly to him for a hug.
Well, this was a turn-up for the books.
