Murder In Bloom Part 17

Peter and Harry were in a Sunday afternoon state of sloth. Libby sank into her usual sagging armchair and refused tea.

'We're awash with Hetty's PG tips, thanks,' she said.

'Drinky-poos, then?' said Harry, pulling his towelling robe more firmly round his waist.

'Oh, go on, then,' said Libby with a grin. 'May I have a whisky?'

Harry poured whisky for Libby and gin and tonics for himself, Peter and Ben. Ben, perched on the arm of the sofa, was deep in conversation with his cousin about other members of the family, notably Peter's mother Millie, Hetty's sister, who now lived in a comfortable home for the slightly insane, as Peter put it. Millie had suffered a complete nervous breakdown some years before, and although at first she had been able to live in her own home with a suitable carer, this was no longer an option. The last time Libby had seen her was at Peter and Harry's civil partnership celebrations, at which she had surprised everybody by behaving impeccably, although with no idea where she was or what was going on.

'How is she?' Libby muttered to Harry. 'I don't like to pry.'

'Pry away, ducks,' said Harry. 'She's as fit as a fiddle and will probably outlive us all. Pete's big problem at the moment is what to do with Steeple Farm.'

'Why is that a problem? Can't he sell it?'

'He hasn't got power of attorney,' said Harry.

'Blimey O'Reilly,' said Libby. 'All I seem to hear about these days is power of attorney. First this b.l.o.o.d.y Creekmarsh case, then Hetty this afternoon and now you.'

'You asked,' said Harry, affronted.

'Sorry, Harry.' Libby reached over and patted his knee. 'It's just such a coincidence. Tell me why Pete hasn't got power of attorney?'

'Because Millie went loopy before he could get it. You can't do it unless the donor, as they're called, is aware of what's going on. And after she flipped, she wasn't. So he and James will have to wait until she pops off, I suppose.'

'You do sound callous,' said Libby.

Harry shrugged, causing his robe to gape alarmingly. 'Got to be sensible,' he said. 'And she doesn't know what's going on, does she? Anyway, it's not as if either we or James need the money.'

'So what's Pete worrying about, then?'

'It's standing empty, and Pete feels guilty. He thinks we should let it out, but it would need a lot spent on it first.'

'Really? I thought Millie had already spent a lot on it? She ripped out the old kitchen and put in that new one, didn't she?'

'Which is already dated and, as you well know, doesn't suit the house at all. Mind you, I don't suppose tenants would worry about that. No, it's health and safety. A lot of the furniture would have to be replaced with fire-r.e.t.a.r.dant stuff, and the insurance would be prohibitive. It's bad enough anyway, as it's thatched.'

'Oh, I see. What a waste of a lovely old house,' said Libby wistfully.

'Here! That's it!' said Harry, patting her cheek. 'You and Ben can go and live there and do it up for us.'

'Oh, gee, thanks,' said Libby. 'I couldn't live with that kitchen.' She sipped her whisky. 'I suppose it was all the fuss with Millie that made Hetty sort out their powers of attorney with Ben.'

''Spect so,' said Harry, 'but what about this Creekmarsh business? Why don't I know anything about it?'

'You've heard it on the news, haven't you?'

'All I've heard is a skeleton in some big garden.'

'That's the one. Creekmarsh, over the other side of Nethergate.'

'Yes, and I know Ad's been working there. How is the dear boy?'

'Lovely, thanks. Creekmarsh's owner fancies him.'

Harry looked interested. 'Oh, yeah? Male, this owner?'

'Don't get excited. Ad and I are bringing him to dinner at the caff sometime this week. You can look him over. Lewis...o...b..urne-Walker if you've heard of him.'

'Known as...o...b..urne-something-else in the community,' grinned Harry, 'but as he's mates with you I suppose he isn't.'

'No, he isn't. He's just a bit confused, having a lot of money quite suddenly and then being mixed up in what looks like a double murder.'

'A double murder?'

'Oh, bother.' Libby shook her head. 'I didn't mean to say that. The police haven't linked the two as far as the public are concerned, but yes. Two.'

'Poor sod. So it's his garden on the news. They haven't said so, have they?'

'I don't think so, and I'm truly surprised that it hasn't leaked to the media. If they connect poor Lewis to either of the murders then it will, obviously.'

'And is he connected?'

'Sort of,' said Libby uncomfortably and looked across at Ben.

'Ah,' said Harry, following her gaze. 'Not happy about it?'

'Well, not really. I think we've sorted it out now, though.'

'Sorted it out? The murder?'

'No ' Libby hesitated. 'Did I tell you Fran and Guy are getting married?'

'It filtered through,' said Harry. 'And that's our Ben's problem, is it? Wants to follow suit?'

'How did you feel two years ago when Peter suggested it to you? You came and talked to me about it.'

'Two blokes are somewhat different from the conventional couple, dear heart.' Harry slid off the arm of her chair and took her empty gla.s.s. 'Refill time.'

The conversation became general, and Libby made a resolution to make time this week for a good long chat with Harry, who had been her confidant ever since she had moved to the village, and she his. He could be abrasive and brash, but was surprisingly softhearted and understanding, and adored all his new extended family, in which he included Libby and all three of her children. His own background he never revealed, although Peter had hinted at a troubled childhood.

Later that evening, as Ben and Libby walked home in the twilight, Ben himself mentioned Steeple Farm.

'Harry was telling me about Pete's problems with it,' nodded Libby.

'Pete and James,' said Ben. 'It's left to them equally. James doesn't want to live there, which you can understand, him being a young-man-about-Canterbury.'

'I always thought he would move there, for some reason.'

'They talked about it, but not an option, really.'

'And they can't let it because it's not up to elf-ansafety?'

'Exactly. When Millie did it up, she only did the cosmetic part she wanted herself.'

'That awful kitchen,' said Libby.

'Yes, and you haven't seen the rest of the house.'

'Is it dreadful?'

'Decoratively, yes. Completely out of keeping with the building itself. It could fairly easily be put back together again, though, but Pete and James don't want to spend a fortune getting it ready to let if they're just going to sell it when Millie dies.'

'So Harry was saying. I'd love to have a look round. Do you think they'd let me?'

They stopped outside number 17, and Ben looked at her.

'I was just going to suggest it,' he said. 'I wondered what you'd think about living there?'

Chapter Sixteen.

LIBBY WAS SO STARTLED she dropped the key. Ben bent to pick it up with a rueful smile and opened the door. Sidney greeted them from his favourite place halfway up the stairs and Libby stumbled on the step.

'Careful,' warned Ben. 'It's only visitors who are supposed to do that.'

Libby preceded him into the sitting room and carried on to the kitchen. Sidney had been at the bread bin again. As she absentmindedly wiped muddy paw prints from the sink and the work surface, she marvelled at Harry's prescience, then looked up and stared through to the conservatory. Or was it prescience? Had Peter and Ben already discussed this possibility? The more she thought about it, still wiping the now clean bread bin, the more likely it seemed.

'Penny for them?' said Ben from behind her. She turned round.

'Have you and Peter talked about this?' The words came out as an accusation, which was not what she wanted, but too late now. Ben's eyes narrowed.

'Why do you say that?'

'Because Harry made the same suggestion. He was joking, I'm pretty sure, but it's such a coincidence.'

Ben sighed. 'Yes. Pete mentioned it a few weeks back.' He held up a hand. 'Hear me out. He was simply saying he wondered if I wanted to carry on living at The Manor, it was nothing to do with you.'

'No?'

'Well, not until he said you might be happier living somewhere new to both of us.'

'Ah.' Libby turned back to the bread bin.

'Do you want a drink?' Ben came up beside her.

'We've been drinking all day,' said Libby. 'I'd prefer coffee, I think.' She filled the kettle and pushed it onto the Rayburn. 'Come and sit down. You'd better tell me all about it.'

'That's all there is, really,' said Ben, leading the way into the sitting room and sitting on one of the upright chairs by the table in the window. Libby frowned. This was not a good sign.

'Pete suggested what? You might like to rent it? Or do it up, like Harry said?'

'Is that what Harry said?' Ben looked interested. 'Because that was the idea. It was fairly vague, but Pete said if I wanted my own home rather than The Manor, wouldn't it be a good idea? Especially if you would feel happier in a home that was "ours" rather than mine or yours.'

Libby was silent for a moment. 'I can see his point,' she said eventually. 'I really would not like to live at The Manor.'

'Because of my mum and dad?'

'Obviously. But it also feels too big. I know you grew up there and it's your family home, but what on earth would we do with all those rooms if when it becomes yours?'

'It isn't entailed, you know. I could sell it.' Ben leant his elbows on his knees and looked at the floor. 'And I have asked if I could move in with you permanently. Even though this house is so small.'

'What's that got to do with anything?'

'I mean,' said Ben with a sigh, 'I'm perfectly happy to continue our relationship on your terms. Just I'd prefer we were actually together as a couple.'

Libby was silent once more. This was simply going over old ground. Slowly, she went back to the kitchen and poured hot water into a cafetiere. Looking back over her shoulder to where Ben sat, still gazing at the floor, his curly grey hair just beginning to show signs of thinning, her heart squeezed within her. She turned back, a.s.sembled mugs, milk and cafetiere on a tray and went back into the sitting room.

'We've been round and round this subject over the last few days, haven't we?' she said, putting the tray down carefully. 'And last night I thought we'd resolved it. We've both given way and reached a compromise. I agreed we should live together properly and you agreed to come here. Should we not leave it there for a while and get used to it?'

Ben looked up and smiled. 'But we are used to it. The only difference will be me coming here after work and not going to The Manor before work.'

'Hmm.' Libby poured coffee. 'All your stuff will be here, though.'

'Yes, and perhaps that's another reason to think of Pete's offer.'

'How would it work, though? If you do it up, will Pete pay you for it?'

'I think his idea is that I we live in it rent free while we do it up, then when Millie dies we buy it as sitting tenants.'

'Because he can't sell it while she's alive.'

Ben nodded. 'That's why Mum made sure about hers and Dad's power of attorney, so I can deal with anything I need to while they're still here.'

'I thought that was how it was,' said Libby. 'But what about this place?'

'You could hang on to it. Escape route,' said Ben, picking up his mug.

Libby made a face. 'That's not very optimistic,' she said.

'Well, we could live here while we do up Steeple Farm. You've been inside, haven't you?'