Free Murder in Mind by Veronica Heley Page B

see what I mean. Neither was Monique after a while.’
    â€˜What happened to her?’
    â€˜Paid off. She was older than Evan and probably thankful to be out of it. She moved away, set up in business for herself and we lost touch.’
    â€˜The boy went with Monique?’
    â€˜No, he stayed with Dad. Evan wouldn’t let him go, the only son and heir, that sort of thing. My mother died, I got married and started up my little business. Right out of the blue, Evan rang one day and asked me to quote for redecorating the reception rooms in his house, as he was about to get married again.’
    â€˜The boy . . .?’
    â€˜Not there. I did enquire.’ A frown. ‘Something about an accident? I think it was about that time he went to boarding school. Anyway, Evan wanted a clean sweep. Out went everything that Monique had done to the house, furniture, curtains, kitchen, everything. In came Airy Fairy Fern.’
    â€˜His second wife.’
    â€˜I
think
, though I can’t be sure, that there was some sort of agreement that Fern would provide him with a son and heir who was up to scratch, because she produced a couple of children as soon as she’d got his ring on her finger. I can tell you she led me quite a dance, changing her mind every five minutes, wanting stripped pine one minute, and all white the next.
    â€˜She was a hippy type, you know. Glastonbury, flowing locks, dancing in the nude. I would be summoned to meet her to talk about wall hangings and walk in on her, naked except for some floating scarves. She had a good figure, I’ll grant you, for her age. I don’t know what it was about Evan. You’d have thought he’d have gone for a sensible woman in her late twenties for a second wife, but Fern was knocking thirty-five then and she drank! And smoked! She had a good hollow cough even in those days. No, I did not understand Evan then, any more than I do now.’
    â€˜Fern must have had fun redecorating the house.’
    â€˜She went in for rowdy parties, getting drunk and being thrown out of functions, being caught with a toy boy, collecting speeding tickets, crashing her car. Oh yes, she had fun, if you can call it that. But she put on a lot of weight and, what with this and that, began very soon to look older than she really was.’
    â€˜Ah, she lost her looks? Now let me see, she produced two girls in quick succession.’
    â€˜Freya and Fiona. Think “F” for Fern, and “F” for both her daughters. I was called in to redo their rooms at regular intervals as they grew out of bunny rabbits and fairies. I was asked to decorate one of their bedrooms with black walls, if you please. Actually I persuaded the girl to accept slate grey instead, which looked all right. The other always wanted everything pink. I honestly don’t know which was worse.’
    â€˜What happened to Fern?’
    â€˜Evan got rid of her. I suppose he woke up one day to the fact that her behaviour wasn’t exactly helping his reputation as a good, solid citizen. And there’d been no more pregnancies.’
    â€˜He divorced her?’
    â€˜Uhuh. He bought her the freehold of a shop somewhere in the back streets, set her up as a mystic, all crystals and scented candles, with the lights turned low so that she still looked good. I shouldn’t think she’s a good insurance risk, what with the smoking and the drinking, and I think she had some other health problem. High blood pressure? Not sure.’
    â€˜So marriage number three. This time to a young girl, a model, who calls herself—’
    â€˜Angelika with a “k”. Much, much younger. She wanted the house redecorated to suit her own taste when she moved in, and who can blame her? She wanted shiny walls and huge mirrors everywhere to reflect her beautiful image, plus the kitchen had to be brought up to date. It cost the earth, as you can imagine. To give her her due, Angelika did