Blood-Tied Read Free Page A

could he help, sort of thing?’
    ‘So what happened?’ Esme threw a glance at Gemma, wondering why she was being so offhand.
    ‘Well, it was a bit odd, really,’ continued Brenda, getting into her stride. ‘ ’Cause, like an idiot – he cursed himself afterwards – Tony said, “were you looking for Mrs Holland?” and the man immediately jumped on it, as if he hadn’t known it before. You know what I mean, he said, “ah yes, that’s it, Mrs Holland”. Well, of course Tony then felt really stupid. I mean he could have been anyone. Casing the place, sort of thing. I feel a right fool, he said to me. Tony that is, not the man. He left then. Wouldn’t give his name. Said he’d come another time.’
    Esme frowned. ‘When was this?’
    Brenda shook her head. ‘That’s just what I was saying this morning to Tony. I really can’t remember which day it was. We were trying to think.’
    ‘So before Elizabeth’s…’ Esme found it difficult to know what word to use. Attack? Mugging? Accident? ‘Before what happened to Elizabeth?’ she said, at last.
    ‘Oh yes, before then, definitely.’
    Esme immediately thought of the argument. Was there a connection?
    ‘Oh don’t worry, Brenda,’ Gemma said, dismissively. ‘It’s probably nothing.’
    But then Gemma knew nothing about that information. Esme realised that she must tell Gemma about the quarrel as soon as she got the chance.
    ‘I’m really sorry, dear,’ Brenda was saying. ‘We do come over of an evening and draw the curtains, put lights on and that, so it looks like there’s someone in, you know.’
    Gemma thanked her and Brenda went back indoors.
    ‘What do you make of that?’ asked Esme, as soon as Brenda was out of earshot.
    ‘Tony’s over-active imagination,’ said Gemma decisively. ‘He reads too many crime novels. He’d see a conspiracy in the milk delivery.’
    ‘Except there was one thing the police said,’ began Esme.
    ‘Yes, I know, that she was meeting someone,’ snapped Gemma. ‘Isn’t that what we’re here for?’
    Esme looked at Gemma’s dark expression. ‘You sound as though you don’t approve?’
    ‘I don’t.’
    ‘But it might help catch them.’
    ‘I don’t see how poking about in my Mum’s house is going to catch a mugger in a town forty miles away.’ She turned towards the car. ‘You go ahead. I’ll be there in a sec.’
    Esme watched her walk away. With Gemma so prickly, perhaps now wasn’t the time to mention the argument, but how would she take seriously what Brenda had told them if she remained in ignorance? Esme turned and went over to the house.
    She unlocked the front door and picked up the post from the mat. She stepped inside and stood for a moment in the hall. Elizabeth’s house was a large Victorian semi-detached property, brick built with a steep roof. Brenda and Tony’s was the mirror image. Esme had never liked the high ceilings but Elizabeth had told her it gave the property elegance. There was never a snug feeling in the house, as far as Esme was concerned. It was too reserved, with too much space for cosiness. Esme preferred the full, almost cluttered, feel of her low-beamed cottage, with packed bookshelves and the eclectic mix of well-worn furniture. Elizabeth’s tastes were unfussy and functional, and in Esme’s eyes, clinical. Elizabeth would argue they had style.
    Gemma joined her, a bottle of milk in her hand. She held it up.
    ‘Cup of tea?’
    ‘Good thinking.’ Esme smiled. Gemma seemed to have got over whatever irritation she’d expressed a moment ago, at least for now, though Esme guessed that mentioning the confrontation might provoke its return. But Esme felt they shouldn’t dismiss this latest information out of hand and Gemma could only appreciate its significance if she knew the full facts.
    She trailed Gemma into the kitchen. ‘Joking apart, you don’t think Tony’s mysterious caller might be connected?’
    Gemma huffed, as if to consider another unknown