Chris left them, aware that she had been got rid of, and made for the hatch, where Kate Adstone and Paula Hickson had taken over from Gran and were doing a roaring trade with refreshments.
“So?” hissed Lois. “Was it him?”
Cowgill nodded. “At least, the body has an appendix scar,” he said quietly. “Can’t say more here, except that without more description and perhaps a hint of who you think it might be, we haven’t got a lot further forwards.”
Lois managed a wintry smile. “Patience,” she said. “An’ if you want to talk to me, you’d better think of somewhere better than a crowded village hall on a Sunday afternoon. Unless you got another reason for being here?”
He had, of course. He explained that he and Chris were observing, following up the arson attempt. It was one thing seeing the hall empty and quiet, but much more useful to watch how it operated when something was on. How people came and went, what check was kept on visitors, if any.
“And eavesdropping?” Lois said. “Always useful, listening in to other people’s conversations. I’ve been known to stoop to that myself, but not lately. Now, I have to go. You’ve paid, I hope? All in aid of restoring the village hall, so extra donations welcome. I’ll be in touch.”
“Before you go, Lois, just remember that many people have appendix scars. I need more.”
“Bye,” Lois said, and disappeared off towards the kitchen, where Kate and Paula were surprised to hear her offer of help, but accepted gratefully.
“You go and have a look round, Paula,” she said. “By the way, where are the children?”
“Down by the swings. Jack Jr.’s looking after them. He’s good at that. I’ve told him to send one of the twins if he can’t manage. It’s only a hundred yards away, so I reckon they’re quite safe.”
“Better go and check,” Lois said. “They get some rough characters on those swings.”
“Don’t alarm the poor woman,” said Kate confidently. “A country village is not the same as the backstreets of Tresham. You used to live in Tresham, didn’t you, Mrs. Meade?”
Lois did not deign to reply. She knew a snide remark when she heard one, and decided Mrs. Kate Adstone was not quite the anxious-to-please person she had thought her to be.
“Um, Mrs. M,” Paula said. “I suppose you wouldn’t just take a look, would you? Jack is more likely to take notice of you, if he isn’t keeping a proper watch. The baby should be asleep in his pushchair, but…” She trailed off, and Lois said of course she’d go. She was used to teenage boys, she said, and walked quickly out of the hall.
As she set off towards the play area, she could see that there were no other children there, nor any watchful parents. Just the Hicksons. She began to quicken her step. She ended up half running, and saw with alarm a figure emerge from the hedge bordering the play area. It was a man, and he approached the tallest child, who was, of course, Jack Jr. Lois shouted out to him that she was coming, and ran full pelt towards the motionless, staring group of children.
The man heard her, and with an amazing turn of speed, retreated the way he had come.
“Jack!” A quick look showed her that all was well with the other children. The twins were still sitting goggle-eyed in their swings, and Frankie smiled sweetly in his sleep.
“I was watching over them, missus!” Jack said. “He weren’t nothing to do with me!”
“But was it him, your father?”
“My father? O’ course not. I told you. He buggered off.”
“But-” Lois stopped and took a big breath. “So who was at the school gates? The one you were frightened of?”
“God knows,” Jack said. “Some pervert or other, I s’pose. Anyway,” he added, “is Mum coming soon? I got things to do.”
“I’ll send her over,” Lois said, staring at him, trying to decide whether he was telling the truth. And then once more she was angry that a child of thirteen should be required to be devious and unpleasant, through no fault of his own. She noticed the tender way he straightened the baby in his pushchair, picking up and dusting off the toy dog that had fallen to the ground.
“Second thoughts, Jack,” she said. “You run over and tell Mum she can finish now doing the refreshments. I’ll take her place. Tell her I’ll walk back slowly with the others. I’ll meet you coming back.”
“Afraid of nasty men, are you?” said Jack with a sneer. “Whatever,” he added, and began to slope off towards the hall.
When Paula arrived to take charge, Lois told her that a man had approached the children but had been scared off, and left it at that. She did not have to say more, and could see the alarm in Paula’s eyes. “Best to keep a close eye on them. Thanks, Mrs. M,” she said, and Lois hurried back towards the hall.
Cowgill’s car was still in the car park, and he and Chris were standing outside, deep in conversation. Lois couldn’t avoid them, so smiled at Chris and asked if they had picked up anything useful in their hunt for the arsonist.
“This and that,” Chris said.
“Must be catching, this way of saying nuthin’,” Lois said. “He’s the champ,” she added, looking at Cowgill. “Anyway, it’s a good exhibition, isn’t it?”
“Very good indeed,” Cowgill said. “I specially liked a photo Gran had contributed. A small girl with long dark hair flying in the breeze, swinging much too high.”
“Couldn’t have been me, if that’s what you think,” said Lois, her eyes softening. “We lived in Tresham.”
“According to your mother, the three of you had come out from town to Farnden for a picnic. You were six, she said. And lovely, as always,” he added quietly, as they walked to the car, so that only she could hear.
“We left a donation,” Chris said, smiling. “And not from police funds, either. Mr. Cowgill has another side to him, you know.”
Cowgill got into the car and lowered the window. “Seriously, Lois,” he said, “I need to know what line you’re following. It could be a matter of life and death, and I’m not saying that lightly. Bye now, take care.”
TWENTY-FIVE
THE WEATHER HAD CHANGED. HEAVY RAIN POUNDED DOWN outside Lois’s office window, and not a soul was to be seen in the village High Street. The usual muddy pond, formed by torrents of water overflowing from fields and ditches, had formed on the corner by the turn to the playing field.
“Drain’s blocked again,” Gran said, “and Derek said him and Tony Dibson were off to clean some of the mud away so’s it can flow away.”
“If only others on the parish council were as good as Derek,” Lois said. “It’s always him unblocking drains or fixing broken hedges. Chasing escaped sheep. Him and John.”
“And Tony Dibson,” said Gran. “You could hardly expect Mrs. T-J to come out with buckets and boots, could you?”
“Don’t see why not,” Lois said grumpily. “Anyway, I have to go out this morning. Possible new client. I’ll be back in time for the meeting.”
Gran retired to the kitchen. Her daughter was obviously in a bad mood, but she had no idea why. But then, she had always been a moody girl. Took after her grandmother, so her father always said. Best to leave her to get over it, he used to advise and was usually right.
A nagging worry had haunted Lois on and off all night, and she was tired from lack of proper sleep. She could not decide what to do about Paula and her missing husband. Would it be better to tell her that the body in the canal had an appendix scar, and leave it to the machinery of the law to involve her in endless questions and identification of the corpse, and all that entailed? Or should she persist on her own, following up the sightings of a tramp who could be Jack Sr., still alive, and do what she could to help Jack Jr. sort himself out? She could see no need to pile more worries on to Paula unless and until it became really necessary.