‘Of course, this is very wrong,’ I said, somewhat belatedly, when we had got the bags back to Fleur’s room again and Sabbatina had put the letter in its envelope into my hands, ‘but sometimes we have to do things of which we’d ordinarily be ashamed.’
‘I’m not ashamed,’ she said. ‘At least, I’m only ashamed for Miss Lipscott and I’m ashamed of thinking she loved me.’
‘I’m sure she did,’ I said. Sabbatina nodded to the envelope.
‘Read it, Miss Gilver, and then tell me.’ I looked down and my eyes widened. It was addressed to Sr Giuseppe Aldo. ‘Miss Lipscott wrote a letter to my father every week,’ said Sabbatina. ‘I usually took it to him. I thought she was letting him know how I was getting on and all that. I put it right into his hands. Every Saturday.’
‘Not to your mother and father together?’ I said.
‘Mother doesn’t read English,’ she said. ‘I want to teach her but she never has time until it’s late and she’s tired. Maybe if I had taught her to read… I keep forgetting that you told me she’s gone.’
I frowned a bit then, for how could any upset over a lost English mistress drown out the news that one’s mother had left one? I opened the envelope and drew out the single sheet inside.
Dear Joe, it began (rather chummily, I thought, but then Joe Aldo did seem to have the knack for making chums. I was sure I had called him that myself in the course of our few short meetings). First things first, the letter went on. Sabbatina’s essay this week was first-rate and her grammar work is coming along wonderfully too. The other mistresses are not fulsome in their praise but I have seen her exercise books and she is near the top of the form in almost everything. I say again, as I have before, that to have such a daughter must be a great blessing and could be the foundation of a very happy life for Rosa and you if you would give up these silly notions of yours.
Rather peppery, I thought, and read on to see to what silly notions she might be alluding. I cannot pretend that I do not share your feelings, because you know I do and the few times you overcame my better principles were some of the sweetest moments of my life. I looked up at Sabbatina, but she had looked away. But I will never be responsible for coming between a husband and wife. I would not marry you if you divorced Rosa and I will not live in sin. My head was beginning to reel. Joe Aldo the fish fryer? I did not seek your affections and I regret not being firmer in my resistance to them in the early days when we were first friends. I am going away from St Columba’s very soon, Joe. I shall continue to pay for Sabbatina’s education and I shall always think fondly of you, her and Rosa and pray for your future happiness as the family, blessed by God and joined in His name, that you are. Goodbye, Fleur Lipscott.
‘He drove her away, Miss Gilver,’ Sabbatina said. ‘He loved her – not me – and she loved him – not me – but she wouldn’t do wrong and he drove her away. And he drove my mother away too. She must have found out.’
‘Sh, Sabbatina,’ I said, for I was trying to think. ‘Hush, now.’
Fleur was planning to run away from Joe Aldo, who would not stop pursuing her. What had happened to make her abandon the plan and flee, leaving Jeanne Beauclerc behind? I glanced down at the letter again. I would not marry you if you divorced Rosa and I will not live in sin.
‘Oh my God,’ I said. If living in sin was out and divorce was out that left only one option. And in my memory I saw Fleur bending over the faceless corpse and whispering ‘Five’. ‘Oh my God,’ I said again. We were sure that No. 5 was not Rosa Aldo, because her own husband had told us so. But if her husband had killed her, then of course he would deny recognising the poor broken thing that his murder had made of her.
‘Sabbatina,’ I said, ‘what “things” did you tell your father when you spoke to him yesterday? Did you tell him you’d read this letter?’
‘No,’ the girl said, ‘but I think he guessed I had, or he guessed that I had found out about him and Miss Lipscott anyway. I told him I blamed him for making her run away.’
‘Did he ask you where she had gone?’ I said.
‘Yes, and I told him I thought she had gone home,’ Sabbatina said. ‘But you told me she hasn’t.’
‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘She hasn’t. Wherever she is, she’s safe. But you said something…’ I was searching her face. ‘You said something to me that I didn’t catch hold of but I know it’s important.’
‘What, Miss Gilver?’ she said, looking back at me with equal earnestness.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. Then I took hold of both of her arms. Could a man who had killed his wife kill his child? If Sabbatina had told her father she knew about him and Fleur was she herself in danger now? ‘I’ve got to go, dear,’ I said. ‘And I want you to lock yourself in here and wait until I or the police or… someone comes back before you open up.’
‘A mistress?’ said Sabbatina.
‘If it’s Miss Glennie or Miss Lovage,’ I said, ‘then yes. Otherwise just keep quiet until they go away.’ I did not know why I did not trust the others. And I did not know whether the story of Joe and Fleur – a Juliet indeed! – was mixed up in the story of St Columba’s, but I needed Alec and all my wits and I could not have the worry of this child distracting me. ‘Will you be all right?’ I asked her, but she had already taken some article of Fleur’s clothing out of the suitcase and looked as though she were planning to curl up and mourn her lost beloved some more. ‘Good girl,’ I said. ‘Lock the door.’
My run of luck was over: as I left the building by the same side door, I was hailed from a distance and turned to see Miss Shanks pounding towards me.
‘Miss Gilver? Miss Gilver!’ she cried.
‘Can’t stop, Miss Shanks,’ I called back with a wave, and kept going. She could hardly run me down and tackle me in front of all the parents, so she slowed and stopped and I was away from her, pelting over the lawn and down the cliff steps with my mind racing faster than my feet.
Joe killed Rosa, because he thought that then Fleur would marry him. Fleur thought her refusal to marry him while his wife was alive meant that she had Rosa’s blood on her hands. That much made sense. But how could Joe have thought Fleur would marry a murderer? Did he mean to make everyone believe it was suicide? Or an accident? But then why did he not say he recognised his wife when he went to see her? What happened to change his plan that terrible day when I went to the cove with Fleur and Joe went with Alec? And what of the mysterious lover who had been seen with Rosa on the cliff path?
I stopped so suddenly that I nearly tripped and fell off the cliff myself. He was seen. That’s what changed. Alec said as much: Joe Aldo was numb with shock at the news that someone had seen his wife and ‘her lover’ and that the witness said she would know the man if she saw him again. After that Joe had to say the corpse was a stranger. And then there was the telephone call. I stopped again, but more gradually this time. How could No. 5 be Rosa Aldo when she had rung her husband on the telephone after No. 5’s body had been drowned and nibbled by fishes and washed ashore again?
I came down onto the harbourside and made my way towards the Crown, but was stopped by a piercing whistle from the far harbour wall. Alec waved both his arms at me and I motioned frantically for him to come. He set off towards me at a jog but I could not wait and I sprinted to meet him. He saw me sprint and put on some speed himself so that when we met we were both blowing hard and sweating.
I had brought the letter and I thrust it into his hands.
‘Bloody hell,’ he said when he had finished it.
‘No. 5,’ I panted. ‘Rosa Aldo. Fleur responsible. Joe – pass it off as suicide.’