The Caroline Quest: An addictive mystery novel Read online

‘Sometimes. Yes there were definitely occasions when I felt they had more time for other people than they did for their own kids. As my brother Andy once said in a burst of totally uncharacteristic non-PC-ness, you get tired of having the place littered with quadriplegic, blind, one-parent lepers.’

  ‘Lepers?’

  ‘He exaggerated. But a houseful of unfortunates of one kind or another was something we grew up with. That’s the way it was.’

  ‘Is it still like that?’

  ‘Not any more. Well, not so much. My dad’s retired now, and although he still gets hauled out to take services here and there, they left the vicarage years ago. They’re still in the same village, but they live in a two-bedroom, highly efficient modern box.’

  ‘Do they hate it, after the vicarage?’

  ‘Are you kidding? They keep warm in winter for the first time ever. And the roof doesn’t leak whenever it rains.’

  ‘What about brothers and sisters? Any more besides the politically incorrect Andy?’

  ‘I have a sister. Karen. Andrew’s the clever one — a research scientist, three years older than me, highly successful. He’s working up in Scotland at the moment, doing something incredibly technical to do with the oil industry. More, better, faster you know the kind of thing. He’s married to a journalist called Mary and they have two kids — a girl and a boy, Charlotte and Hugh. My sister, Karen, is younger than me by two years. She’s nursing in the Middle East, engaged to a doctor. They’re supposed to be coming home to be married in the autumn.’

  ‘You’re all close?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘That’s wonderful. I envy you.’

  ‘We’ve been lucky. Not that I thought that when we were young! Andy and I hated being the children of the manse. We always felt we were expected to be cleaner than clean in word, thought and deed and we were never, under any circumstances, allowed to miss Sunday school! The vicar’s family is always on show, you see. Andy and I thought it most unfair.’

  ‘How about Karen?’

  ‘Well, she was better at toeing the party line. A good actress, was Karen. Very prim and proper on the outside, but in fact artful as a wagonload of monkeys. She could get away with murder. We teased her like mad, but really we rather respected her for it.’ He laughed, reminiscently. ‘Many’s the time Andy or I, or both, ended up carrying the can for something she’d done. Dad was always so bloody sorrowful when we’d transgressed. I used to wish he’d swear a bit and belt me one, like my mate Joe’s dad. Get the whole thing over, you know?’

  ‘I think it all sounds rather idyllic.’

  He laughed at that.

  ‘I suppose it was, in a way. We knew just where we were with them, what was expected of us, that nothing we did shook the way they felt about us and that they’d always be there, like twin Rocks of Gibraltar. I think that’s the biggest gift any parents can give their kids, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I do. And I suppose, for all I say about my own mother, that’s what she tried to do. It wasn’t easy, on her own.’

  ‘It can’t have been. And then losing Jim - ’

  ‘I don’t think she ever got over it. I don’t suppose you would, losing a child. It was bad enough for me.’

  I found myself telling him about that terrible time, and the way the house on Cape Cod had somehow come to represent safety and security to me. I told him about the New York apartment and how I was determined to sell it.

  ‘And your work?’ he asked. ‘I suppose you’re between jobs at the moment.’

  ‘I kind of feel I’m between everything at the moment,’ I said. ‘Where to live, what to do. I’ve given up all idea of going on with acting.’

  ‘Why on earth?’

  ‘It’s a world I don’t like very much. I don’t fit into it.’

  ‘No?’ He raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘My bet is that you’ll go back to it.’ He was looking at me with the crooked smile I found so attractive. ‘You have the looks and the personality, and you have the right contacts. That must help.’

  ‘Talent helps more,’ I said. ‘And that, unfortunately, is in short supply.’

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘With all due respect, Steve, you may know your Chippendale from your Sheraton, but you don’t know the first thing about my acting ability. From all you tell me, your sister Karen might be more of a success than I’ll ever be.’

  ‘What do you want to do?’

  Even after considering the question for the hundredth time, I still shook my head, defeated.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I have this strange feeling that maybe if I just wait — if I’m receptive to new ideas something irresistible will offer itself.’

  ‘I think you’re wise.’ He grinned at me. ‘Look, this offer may not come into the irresistible class, but why don’t we have a day out somewhere in the country this weekend? I have to stick around the shop tomorrow, but I’m free as air on Sunday. I feci it my solemn duty to show you a little of Britain’s heritage. How about Bleinheim? Have you been there?’

  ‘No, I haven’t, but I’ve heard of it. It’s a stately home, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s a palace, the seat of the Duke of Marlborough, and it’s in Oxfordshire. No self-respecting tourist should miss it.’

  ‘I’d love to see it.’ I would, I admitted to myself, probably have said the same no matter what destination he’d suggested, but Blenheim would do very well. ‘So you’ll be working all day tomorrow? Why don’t you come and have dinner with me at the hotel tomorrow night?’

  ‘Wow!’ He opened his eyes wide. ‘Dinner at Quentins? That’s an offer I’m incapable of refusing! Thanks — I accept with pleasure.’

  So, I thought as a little later we drove back to the hotel, I’d be seeing him tomorrow and the next day, too. And I smiled to myself, thinking it had turned out to be not such a bad day after all.

  *

  The dinner was superb. It did occur to me during the course of it that maybe Steve might want to make a night of it, but though he stayed late we didn’t move beyond the hotel lounge which, rather to my relief, we had to ourselves. What would I have said or done if he’d made any move that indicated he wanted to stay? Gone along with it, I think; but in a way, much as I was attracted to him, I was glad he didn’t. I had a sense that the time wasn’t right.

  The next day, Sunday, dawned bright and sunny, and as we drove out towards Oxford I felt happy and optimistic, looking forward to a day in Steve’s company and quite content to put all thoughts of finding Caroline on hold.

  We found no lack of things to talk about, though there were periods when we were silent, happy to enjoy the countryside, with its woods and fields and little woolly lambs.

  We drove through the lovely village of Woodstock and, at the end of it, turned into the grounds of Blenheim, the first sight of which took my breath away.

  ‘My God, what a place,’ I breathed. ‘Surely it’s even grander than Buckingham Palace?’

  ‘Gift of a grateful parliament to the duke,’ Steve said as we parked the car and walked round the building to take a proper look at it.

  ‘They sure must have been grateful.’

  ‘He won a great battle for them. But nothing changes, you know. Apparently his wife, Sarah, had constant battles with the architect and the builders because they didn’t finish on time. And she was fighting with them on her own because the duke was off heaven knows where, having the military equivalent of a heavy day at the office.’

  ‘Nothing changes!’

  ‘She was a feisty lady, our duchess — and a great favourite of Queen Anne. Let’s go for a walk in the park first, shall we, while the sun shines? We can see the house later.’

  We set out round the lake and Steve sketched in some of the background to the original duke and duchess, their lives and loves. Maybe it was the thought of all these lords and ladies that reminded me, for I suddenly thought of Sir Timothy Crofthouse, the man who had sent flowers to Mom’s funeral. I asked Steve if he
had ever heard of him.

  ‘Crofthouse? Certainly I have. He’s quite a power in the land.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Anything Artful and Crafty. His family is immensely wealthy. They owned Crofts.’

  ‘What’s Crofts?’

  ‘The supermarket chain. Not that he has anything to do with that now I believe they sold out to some German company years ago — but he’s on numerous quangos. Quasi non-governmental organisations,’ he added, seeing my uncomprehending expression. ‘He’s also some kind of adviser to the government on things to do with the arts. There’s a Crofthouse Gallery at the Tate and an annual Crofthouse Prize for young musicians.’

  I frowned, as much in the dark as ever.

  ‘I wonder how he ever got to know my mother,’ I mused. ‘Through his interest in the arts, maybe - though she was never really interested in ‘the arts’ in an abstract kind of way. All she knew was who and what was saleable. At that she excelled.’

  ‘The Crofthouses live at Fincote, not far from where my grandmother used to live. It’s a very grand house.’

  ‘As grand as this?’ I gestured towards Blenheim Palace, which we could now see across the lake, looking even more impressive from a distance than at close quarters. Steve laughed.

  ‘Not quite — but pretty damned grand, I’m telling you. My grandmother told me that time was when the aristocracy looked down on the Crofthouses as ‘trade’, but that was three or four generations ago. I think your Sir Timothy is the third baronet. Very establishment!’

  ‘I simply don’t understand,’ I said. ‘He can’t have been a close friend. You know how Mom felt about Englishmen!’

  ‘Maybe she made an exception for baronets.’

  ‘I would have expected that to put her off more than anything else.’

  ‘I’ve seen him on TV and he comes over as a nice guy — not that I know him personally.’

  ‘Well, it’s a complete mystery to me. I just can’t imagine how their paths could have crossed.’

  ‘You could always drop into Fincote and ask him,’ Steve said. ‘As it happens. I’m going that way tomorrow there’s a viewing at a country house in the Surrey Hills. Look, why don’t you come, too? Lovells are auctioning the contents on Wednesday and I have a shrewd idea I might find a few things to interest me.’

  ‘That’d be great.’ I responded with enthusiasm, my main emotion being one of joy that having had dinner with me the previous night and then spent this entire day in my company, he was still coming up for more. ‘And, hey,’ I went on, ‘maybe I’ll see something I’d like to buy for myself.’

  ‘Why not?’ he said lightly. Innocent words, yet somehow I sensed the faintest of chills. I came to a halt so that he was forced to turn and look at me.

  ‘Something wrong?’ he asked, frowning.

  ‘Not with me,’ I said. ‘But I feel some strange vibes from you. What is it, Steve?’

  For a moment he didn’t reply, but just sighed and looked away past me, away into the distance.

  ‘Look,’ he said after a minute. ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you.’ There was a bench a few yards ahead of us and he took my arm and led me to it. I was so apprehensive about what was coming next that I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to get to the point.

  We sat down side by side and for a moment there was silence between us, as if he were having difficulty knowing where to begin.

  ‘Thursday night,’ he said at last, ‘I owe you an explanation.’ I began to protest, but he imprisoned my hand in his and gave it a shake as if to signal me to stop. ‘I’ve just got to get things clear,’ he went on. ‘It’s important to be straight with you, right from the beginning.’

  The beginning of what? I almost asked him, straight out, but managed not to.

  ‘Go on,’ I said, in a neutral kind of voice.

  ‘Well I told you I wasn’t married. That was true,’ he added hastily, seeing my puzzled look. ‘But only just. I was divorced six months ago.’

  ‘But you still love her?’ I was struggling to understand what this confession was all about.

  ‘No no, not at all. Well, I did once, of course, but not lately. I was just thankful when the whole thing was over.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry if you were unhappy, but Steve - ’ I paused and looked at him, still puzzled. ‘What has this got to do with Thursday night?’

  Distractedly he ran a hand through his hair.

  ‘I’m telling this all wrong,’ he said. ‘Let me start again.’ He gave a kind of glancing smile in my direction. ‘The whole point is that my wife — Tanya — married beneath her.’

  ‘What?’ I was laughing now.

  ‘She always thought so, anyway. She was — is — very beautiful and her parents are filthy rich. They live in the stockbroker belt in a vast, ten-year-old Tudor Gem in Sunningdale, right by the golf course. None of that seemed to matter at first. Not to her, anyway, though I have to say her parents never approved of me. They believed, quite rightly, that I would never be able to keep her in the manner to which she was accustomed. She didn’t mind, she said. She had a soul above sordid details such as paying the grocery bill — and anyway, Daddy would always help out if the worst came to the worst. Without going into all the sordid details, I’ll just say that it didn’t work out.’ He gave a mirthless grunt of laughter. ‘And believe me, that’s the understatement of the year.’

  ‘Were there children?’

  Steve shook his head.

  ‘No, thank God. I we both wanted them, to start with, but when Tanya got tired of living the simple life she said she wouldn’t dream of having a kid before I’d come to my senses and taken the mind-numbing job her father was currently offering me. I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Honestly, I considered it, and I tried in the interest of harmony to agree to it, but there was no way I could have lived like that, no matter what I was paid. So then she found someone else - ’ He broke off. ‘Look,’ he said, facing me, one elbow on the back of the seat. ‘I was as much to blame as she was. I know I’m pig-headed and single-minded about my work. It’s a passion with me, not just a job. She was pampered all her life, brought up in the kind of home where it’s impossible to hold up your head if you don’t own an Olympic-sized swimming pool. I told you what my childhood home was like, and nothing could be more different. The only pool we had was on the landing where the roof leaked and the rain came in. We were chalk and cheese, with different outlooks, different priorities.’

  I let this hang in the air a bit before I spoke again.

  ‘So now you’re a free man again,’ I said after a moment. ‘That’s good, surely?’

  ‘Except that she took me for every penny she could get. God knows why the court was so generous towards her. It just about wiped me out financially.’

  ‘That was tough, with your own business to run. Couldn’t you appeal?’

  ‘I considered it; then I thought, to hell with her — with all of them. I just wanted to walk away, forget it all, start again.’

  ‘And you will,’ I said, reaching to touch his arm. ‘I’m sure you will. But I still don’t quite understand what was with you on Thursday night.’

  He gave a breath of laughter.

  ‘You can’t make the connection? Can’t see why I should have had a sudden fit of deja vu when confronted with a beautiful girl who I suddenly realised was also loaded?’

  ‘Not unless you were planning to ask me to marry you over the tagliatelle.’

  He laughed again.

  ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I hadn’t got that far. But I did feel a certain — shall we say frisson?’ He gave the word an exaggerated French pronunciation and quirked his eyebrows in a kind of stage-Gallic manner, mocking himself. ‘Then, over dinner, all my defence mechanisms went into action when I realised that once more I’d frissoned over a girl who was way out of my league.’

  ‘Is this friendship, or a game of baseball?’ I asked him, happy and relieved now that I recognised the problem. It had been the mone
y, all along! Of all the crazy things!

  He leant and kissed me on the cheek.

  ‘Friendship, I hope,’ he said.

  ‘Me, too. Don’t let’s complicate things with money. It couldn’t be less important.’

  ‘Only people with plenty think like that. I’m skint, Holly. It’s not a comfortable thing to be.’

  ‘But you turned down the chance of a well-paid job to do the thing you love, so you’re not beyond hope.’

  He laughed, then sighed, but somehow his confession seemed to have cleared the air, made him happier.

  Getting to his feet, he reached for my hand and pulled me to mine.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and see the house.’

  ‘No, wait! You must swear not to let filthy lucre spoil a promising friendship?’

  ‘I’ll try,’ he said, then he paused a moment, his hands on my shoulders. ‘How promising?’ he asked.

  ‘That rather depends.’

  ‘You can buy Lovell’s entire stock and I won’t turn a hair,’ he promised. ‘I swear it! Tomorrow is still on, isn’t it?’ He pulled me a little closer, adding softly, ‘Or have you had enough of me?’ His face was suddenly still, his eyes questioning. Deliberately provocative, I smiled up at him, feeling for the first time in control of the situation.

  ‘I’ll tell you after tomorrow,’ I said. ‘What time do you plan to leave?’

  He grinned at me, those clear grey eyes suddenly alive and a network of lines fanning out from their corners. He pulled me even closer and wrapped me in a bear hug, laughing delightedly.

  ‘If you’re at the shop by about one, wc can grab a pub lunch and shoot off as soon as maybe.’ He took my hand and we set off once more down the grassy path. ‘Ideally, I’d like to get away before, but it can’t be managed. I haven’t any help at the moment, so I have to close up the shop when I’m not there.’

  ‘That must be inconvenient.’

  ‘I’ll say it’s inconvenient but it can’t be helped. Assistants are an expensive luxury.’

  I looked at him and marvelled, thinking that to run a business in this way was surely like doing so with one hand tied behind his back but I made no comment, the subject of money being taboo.