Murder My Neighbour Read Free Page B

about our other problem, right?’
    Frank lifted his head from Ellie’s shoulder. ‘Mum can’t just give me a new daddy, can she?’
    â€˜No,’ said Stewart. ‘I’ve told you already; she can’t. Now, let’s help Rose, shall we?’
    Ellie managed to get Frank standing on his own two feet. ‘That’s the ticket, Frank. This is an emergency and we need you to help. First, can you find Rose’s handbag for us, and then another pair of shoes for her to wear?’
    He sniffed, but did as he was asked.
    The doctor sent them to hospital for an X-ray. Rose didn’t lose consciousness, but her colour was poor and she breathed as lightly as a bird. Ellie made a call on her mobile to Thomas only to find he wasn’t picking up, so she left him a message to say they were having to wait at the hospital till Rose had been dealt with.
    It transpired that nothing had been broken, thank God, but Rose had to have some stitches in the cut on her leg. Then they had to wait for a tetanus injection and painkillers from the pharmacy. Also for a sling. Rose was instructed to keep her wrist up for some days.
    It was teatime before they got Rose back home, cleaned up and dosed with painkillers. Ellie helped her battered housekeeper to change her clothes and slip into bed for a rest with the television on and the sound turned down low. Rose had been dozing off every few minutes since leaving the hospital, and Ellie thought she’d probably fall asleep any minute. With any luck, there’d be no lasting ill effects from her tumble.
    Frank put away four shortbread biscuits, a banana, two pieces of toast and butter, a chocolate bar and half a pint of milk, before declaring that he wanted to watch the telly with Rose. Curled up in an armchair beside her bed he, too, was fast asleep within minutes.
    Ellie took stock of herself. There were smears of Rose’s blood on her skirt, and she felt sticky and uncomfortable. She knew Stewart wanted to talk about Diana, but Ellie didn’t feel up to it. ‘Give me five minutes, Stewart. I need to wash and change. Then I’ll make us some sandwiches and a cup of tea. All right?’
    He nodded, big shoulders relaxing. ‘Would you mind if I had a cup of coffee instead? I’ll make it.’
    â€˜Make some for me while you’re at it.’
    Ellie hauled herself up the stairs to her bedroom and stepped out of the light summer dress she’d put on when she got up that morning before . . . before everything happened. She threw it into the laundry basket. The bloodstains might come out with a good soak, or she might have to have it cleaned, but for the moment she had more important things to think about.
    She pulled on a pretty pink dress with a scalloped neckline and checked that it hung straight at the back. Nothing destroyed your poise quicker than finding the back of your skirt tucked up into your pants.
    As she sought in vain for a lipstick – she did have one somewhere and it might give her morale a boost – she allowed herself to think about the forthcoming interview and what Stewart might have to say about Diana.
    Ellie’s daughter was not ageing well. Not as well as Ellie, who carried just a smidgeon too much weight to look fashionable, and who never bothered with make-up if she could help it, but whose prematurely silver hair curled prettily around her head, whose skin was still good, and who always looked as if she were on the point of smiling.
    Diana, on the other hand, had lines of discontent and ambition etched into her skin, she wore her almost-black hair in a severe helmet and was so string bean thin that she could wear the most outrageous of today’s fashions; provided they were in black, of course.
    Diana had arrived early that morning, before Rose had fallen off the ladder and Ellie’s life had become even more complicated than usual.
    â€˜Mother, I need you to help me out or I’ll