Page 18 of Old Girls Behaving Badly

‘Yes, just here to give her a helping hand.’

‘That’s nice. She looks capable, but I suppose she’s elderly and could do with someone to lean on.’

He said this with a tilted, sad smile and I assumed he was referring to the loss of her husband rather than her faculties.

‘Did you ever meet her husband, Philip?’ I asked.

‘Only once, at the engagement party,’ Rufus said, quickly. ‘He seemed to be a nice man, very sad what happened to him. It was a terrible accident apparently.’

‘I’m not aware of the particulars,’ I lied.

‘Oh, he had a fall outside his home and hit his head.’

‘That is very sad,’ I said, wondering why he didn’t mention the burglary, but then this was supposed to be a special occasion and perhaps not the time to be dragging up unpleasant things. I decided to change the subject and get to safer territory. ‘Doesn’t the house look glorious from this position by the lake? I think I’d have a bench right here to admire the aspect if it were mine.’

Rufus laughed, but it was a dark sound, as if there was something hiding behind that smile.

‘Uncle Leonard is a very lucky man for sure. Whatever is going on he always seems to land on his feet. Not sure that others are so lucky, though. Excuse me,’ he said as he picked up his pace and then walked away.

When we got back to the house everyone disappeared off for lunch, but I took a croissant from a plate on the counter, a chunk of cheese from the fridge in the kitchen and decided to do a little research in the safety of my room. I couldn’t just go around asking questions; I needed to look at the crime itself.

It didn’t take much of a search on my phone before I found the news article about the robbery, dated a year ago.

An elderly man succumbed to his injuries last night, following an incident at his home over a week ago.

Philip Reed of Hampton Court Road, Hampton, was chasing an intruder from his riverside house when he fell down his front steps and suffered hip and head injuries. The 89-year-old pensioner was being treated at The Royal Free Hospital where he arrived in a coma and never regained consciousness. His widow, 88-year-old Dorothy Reed, is said to be being looked after by family members after what she described as the most devastating day of her life.

Detective Inspector Collinson of the Met Police has issued a statement saying that they are looking for a person of slight build and average height who used the victim’s phone to call for an ambulance. They have been looking at CCTV footage from the neighbouring houses and the area, and are appealing for anyone with any information to come forward.

There was a link to a Facebook post where Miles had appealed on behalf of the family for everyone to keep an eye out for the stolen items. And there was a picture of the painting along with snapshots of the other things that had been taken. Dorothy was right; they were just inexpensive trinkets, perhaps taken to disguise the fact that the painting was what the thief was really after, as she had suggested.

I sat and looked at the painting for a moment, scrutinising the strokes of paint across the canvas and trying to understand the motivation for its theft. At best it was a pretty little watercolour of a coastal scene. It was fairly accomplished, but nothing particularly special. It would be a top raffle prize rather than a coveted piece of art. Perfectly nice to hang on the wall, especially if you had won it in a competition. What a terrible outcome for a mediocre piece of artwork, I thought.

So, this was the picture I had to find, but I knew it wasn’t about the painting itself; it was all about proving Leonard to be at the heart of it. I went back to the Facebook post and screenshot a picture of the missing artwork.

I was about to search for the original competition where Philip had won the painting when I could hear muffled voices outside on the landing. I got up off the bed and opened the door, but the voices had gone and only Juliet was there, walking past, her phone in her hand.

‘Hi,’ I said to her and she turned around. ‘Is lunch finished now?’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Leonard said that we all have to meet at the entrance to the maze at four-thirty for some lame treasure hunt.’

‘You don’t fancy a treasure hunt? What would you rather be doing?’

‘Be with my mates. I was allowed to bring one friend here, but obviously they’re all on holiday somewhere brilliant, not waiting around for an invite to a boring wedding.’ Juliet suddenly let out a big yawn and tried to disguise it with the back of her hand, her phone still clutched tightly in her grip. It looked as if she had something flashing across the screen, but I couldn’t make out what it was before she took her hand away and plunged the device into her pocket.

‘Dorothy said there’s going to be horse riding tomorrow, and quad biking the day after. Is that something you’d like to do?’ I asked her.

‘Spose,’ she said, sulkily. ‘So, four-thirty at the maze, yeah?’

‘Oh, me too?’

‘If you can get out of it then do. I won’t tell them I’ve told you.’

I smiled at the girl. ‘I’ll come, but thanks. If I can get you out of something later in the week I will, okay?’

‘Okay,’ she said and there was the merest hint of a smile on her lips.

I turned back to my room as Juliet walked away, but the sound of voices was unmistakable again. Perhaps she was watching something on her phone. I closed my door and opened my wardrobe to find an outfit suitable to wear for a game in a maze.