(9/20) Tyler's Row Read Free Page B

Bennett's property,' enlarged Peter, knowing that it is far better to name the owner than the house in rural parts.
    John Lamb, who had not heard Peter properly at first, was a trifle nettled at having Bennett's name brought in. He was postmaster, wasn't he? He knew Tyler's Row well enough, after all these years, without some foreigner trying to tell him his business!
    He answered rather shortly.
    'On your left. Matter of a hundred yards or so. You'll see the thatch over the hedge-top.'
    'Thanks very much,' said Peter, equally shortly. Diana turned her gentle smile upon John Lamb, to soften her husband's brusqueness.
    'Surly sort of devil,' commented Peter, eyes alert to the left.
    'I thought he looked rather a dear,' said Diana. 'Look, that's it!'
    They pulled up by the tall hawthorn hedge.
    'That archway's rather attractive,' said Diana. 'Shall we go in?'
    The gate was rickety and dragged on the ground. A semi-circle had been worn into the earth, and the pressure had caused some of the palings to hang loose.
    'Tut, tut!' clicked Peter, who was a tidy man. 'Only the hinge gone. Wouldn't have taken five minutes to replace.'
    They stood just inside the gate and surveyed Tyler's Row. The cottage nearest them had a fine yellow rose climbing over it. The dark foliage glittered in the sunshine as brightly as holly leaves. The windows were closely shut, despite the heat of the day, and Diana was positive that she saw a curtain twitch as though someone were watching them.
    They moved a few steps along the brick path. A bumble bee wandered lazily from rose to rose, his humming adding to the general air of languor.
    The two empty cottages, their windows blank and curtainless, looked forlorn and unloved. The paint peeled from the doors and window frames, and a long, skinny branch of japónica blew gently back and forth in the light breeze, scraping across the glass of an upstairs window with an irritating squeaking noise.
    'Turns your teeth to chalk, doesn't it?' remarked Peter. 'Like catching your finger-nail on the blackboard.'
    'Or wearing those crunchy nylon gloves,' added Diana.
    'I've been spared that,' said Peter, stepping forward and pressing his face to the glass.
    At that moment, a woman came out of the last cottage, flung a bucket of water across the garden bed, in a flashing arc, and stood, hand on hip, surveying the couple. Her face was grim, her eyes unwelcoming.
    'Can I help?' she asked tartly. It looked as though it were the last thing she wanted to do, but Diana answered her softly.
    'No, thank you. We'll try not to bother you. We have the key to look at these cottages.'
    At the same moment, the door of the other occupied cottage opened, and out stepped Sergeant Burnaby. His face was as yellow as his roses, but his bearing was still soldierly.
    'Yes, sir,' he said briskly. 'Anything I can do to help, sir?'
    'Nothing, thanks,' said Peter, with a smile. 'Just taking a look at the property.'
    'In a very poor way, sir. Very poor way indeed. My old friend Jim Bennett hadn't the wherewithal to keep it together. No discredit to him. Just circumstances, you understand. A fine man he was, sir. We served together for—'
    A violent snort from the woman at the end interrupted the old soldier's monologue, and Peter Hale took the opportunity of turning the key in the lock and opening the door of one of the cottages.
    'We mustn't keep you,' he said firmly, and ushering Diana inside, he closed the door upon' the two remaining tenants of Tyler's Row.

    Despite the summer heat which throbbed over the garden, the cottage interior was cold and damp. This was the Waites' old home, and had been empty now for a long time.
    Cobwebs draped the windows and a finger of ivy had crept inside and was feeling its way up the crack of the door. Diana could smell the bruised aromatic scent where the opening door had grazed it.
    The floor was of uneven bricks, and snails had left their silver trails across it. The old-fashioned kitchen range was mottled