The Mill on the Shore

The Mill on the Shore Read Free Page A

Book: The Mill on the Shore Read Free
Author: Ann Cleeves
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distressed. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She can’t think it through. But she wasn’t sufficiently brave and the guests listened sympathetically, admiring Meg’s calm, thinking she would make a short loving speech to Jimmy’s memory and that then they could go back to the booze.
    ‘The verdict of the inquest was that James took his own life when the balance of his mind was disturbed. It was a reasonable decision considering his medical history. We all know that since his accident he’s suffered periods of depression. But it wasn’t a true verdict. I know that James didn’t kill himself. He wouldn’t have done it. As the days have passed since his death I’ve become more convinced …’ Her voice broke off. ‘I just can’t let it go!’ she said desperately. ‘There has to be an investigation. I have to know if there was a dreadful accident or some malicious intent.’ She stopped again. Perhaps she expected some reaction or encouragement but there was only awkwardness, a cough, an uneasy murmur from the back that Meg had been under considerable strain for years and it was hardly surprising if she broke down now.
    Meg looked around her and suddenly seemed her old self. She smiled.
    ‘It’s been a terrible day,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’ll understand that I want to be on my own now.’
    And she left the room without saying anything more. There was a stunned silence and the crowd broke up. Ruth stood at the front door and watched them run through the wind to their cars. She had expected some comment about Meg’s state of mind but no one spoke to her. There were only sympathetic and embarrassed glances as they dashed away.
    When she returned to the common room Caitlin was draining dregs of wine from the empty bottles.
    ‘What was all that about?’ she demanded. She was flushed and unsteady. ‘What the hell was she trying to say?’
    ‘I rather think,’ Ruth said quietly, annoyed by Caitlin’s flippancy, wanting to shock, ‘I rather think she was trying to say James had been murdered.’
    Caitlin went very pale, dropped heavily into a chair and began to laugh out loud.

Chapter Two
    Cathy Cairns was pleased when Aidan Moore asked for a lift to the church with them. She thought her husband Phil would want to talk about James. She had avoided the subject since his death and was still not quite sure what to say. In Aidan’s presence, surely, even Phil would restrain himself to polite and superficial expressions of sorrow.
    They arrived at the church early and waited outside for the family to arrive, shivering in the cold. Phil who usually seemed impervious to extremes of temperature bounced around like a puppy, slapping himself to keep warm. He was a plump jolly man with a thick black beard and boundless nervous energy. He could never stand still. At last Meg’s car drew up and it was like a royal procession when she and the children paraded into the church, the flashlights snapping as the local press took pictures.
    Cathy, as usual, felt the shock of recognition as Emily climbed out of the car, then the old bitterness and anger. The girl looked so like Hannah at the same age that she wanted to go up to her and take her into her arms. She turned away with tears in her eyes. Phil, who had never noticed her reaction to Emily, patted her shoulder and said: ‘Nay, lass, don’t cry. He had a good life,’ which made her smile despite herself because ‘good’ was never an adjective to describe Jimmy Morrissey in any context.
    Cathy had been married to James Morrissey briefly in the early seventies. During the courtship she had been overwhelmed by him, infatuated beyond reason, but after the wedding she had seen quite soon that it would not work out. The main problem was that he was never there. He was at the height of his fame and besides the routine trips abroad to film for the BBC he was invited to lecture, to advise, to promote internationally the interests of conservation. He had been

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