‘Oh… thank God for that.’
Lady Dorothy was still glaring at her. Bella tried a tentative smile.
‘I shouldn’t say that because it’s no joke that my grandfather murdered my grandmother, but you know what?’
Lady Dorothy continued to stare but her eyebrows were moving slowly, in an upward direction.
‘What?’ The query was understandably wary.
Bella lowered her voice to a confidential tone. ‘If she’d been wearing pink track pants like this it could well have been a motive.’ Her lips twitched. ‘If I’d been on the jury and these were Exhibit A then I’d certainly consider them to be an exonerating factor.’
Finally, there was a response from the elderly lady. A lip twitch that mirrored Bella’s. She unceremoniously rolled up the offending pants and put them back on the chair.
‘So, if they’re not yours, what are they doing in here? Shall I get rid of them for you?’
‘Best not, dear.’
‘How come?’
Lady Dorothy’s sigh was weary. ‘The occupational therapist brought them. I’m supposed to wear them because I’ll be able to put them on by myself.’
‘What? Is she trying to drive you to drink or something? What’s wrong with the kind of pants you usually wear? Oh…’ Bella grimaced. ‘Sorry, I’m putting my foot in it again. You probably don’t wear trousers at all. I’d imagine you wearing beautiful skirts and jackets or elegant dresses.’
‘I do wear trousers. I was wearing my favourite pair when I came in here. They’re hanging in the wardrobe.’
Bella opened the small closet. A pair of crisply pressed, pale grey linen pants could be seen. She lifted out the hangar and eyed the garment. ‘You know, I’m no expert but the only problem I can see with these is the zip and buttons and that could be easily fixed with an invisible strip of Velcro.’
Lady Dorothy was watching her closely now. ‘What about pulling them up?’
‘You could use one of those stick gripper things. Has the occupational therapist shown you all the aids you can get now?’
‘She showed me a lot of things.’ Lady Dorothy’s tone suggested she hadn’t been impressed.
‘Anyway,’ Bella added cautiously, ‘you’ll probably get a lot of movement back when the inflammation goes down. As long as you’re not as silly as my nana was, that is.’
Lady Dorothy blinked. ‘What’s your nana got to do with this? I thought you said she got murdered.’
‘That was Grandma. On my dad’s side, and I never knew her. She was the skeleton in my family closet. Nana was Mum’s mother and she lived with us for a while when she couldn’t manage any more. I loved her to bits.’
‘You said she was silly.’
Bella nodded, happy to finally have the old lady’s full attention. She wasn’t even looking sad any more. ‘She had a high horse. We used to tease her about getting on it so often.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘She was very critical of people she didn’t like – especially doctors. She didn’t believe in drugs of any kind. When she was diagnosed with her rheumatoid arthritis her GP told her to get off her high horse for once and do as she was told because if she didn’t take the painkillers and anti-inflammatories and do her exercises, she’d end up totally crippled by the disease.’
‘And did she?’
‘No. She went home and flushed all the pills down the loo and, of course, she couldn’t keep moving because her joints were all too swollen and sore and she did end up crippled and had to come and live with us.’ Bella sighed. ‘I wish she’d been put somewhere like here when she got sick. She would have loved my line-dancing classes.Thatwould have got her moving.’
There was a sparkle in Lady Dorothy’s eyes now. A look of real interest. Determination, even?
‘What on earth is line dancing?’
Bella’s grin was mischievous. ‘I’ll come and get you tomorrow and you can find out.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t do that.’
