Free Murder in the Afternoon by Frances Brody Page B

box by the fire. Bobbing down, she put the teat to the lamb’s mouth. ‘I can listen and faff at the same time, and I’ll make us a pot of tea in a minute. Eh, it’s a bad business, Ethan going missing. I went down there with eggs this morning, hoping Mary Jane would have news.’
    Her attention went to the lamb and for a moment we sat in silence.
    Sitting in the comfortable room with its blazing fire, I relaxed for the first time that day. I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be working. Though the farmyard had a run-down look, this house could not have been a greater contrast. It smelled of freshly baked bread. The black lead fireplace and hearth shone from serious polishing. Gleaming brass pots and warmers hung from hooks on the wall. A blackened kettle sang on the hob.
    The flagged floor had been treated with something red, perhaps a bright lead paint, and was strewn with peg rugs of different ages, sizes and colours. The furniture comprised a heavy old oak dresser displaying gleaming crockery, a solid table covered in a practical oil cloth, sturdy dining chairs, and a couple of rockers by the hearth. A smaller scrubbed table stood by the large flat sink.
    ‘Sorry about this. I’ll give you a cup of tea in a shake.’
    ‘Not to worry about that. You have your hands full.’
    ‘Not so full that I don’t mind my manners. But you’re right. Work on a farm is never done. That’s why neither me nor Bob was here Saturday when Harriet come by.’
    ‘If it’s such hard work, perhaps you won’t be sorry to move on.’
    She sighed and looked so full of regret that I felt tactless to have mentioned it.
    ‘I’ll be right sorry to leave this farm, but it’s been hand to mouth for years, and worse since the tragedy of last year.’
    ‘That quarry seems an unlucky place.’
    ‘Aye. Bob were that upset that he wasn’t here for the lass, and just as upset that …’ She paused.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Oh nothing. I shouldn’t say. Me and my big mouth.’
    Who could be more welcome to a detective than a person with a big mouth? ‘Mrs Conroy, I’m trying to find out what happened on Saturday. If you can help in any way, I’d be most grateful.’
    ‘Well, Ethan took it badly when Bob told him he was selling up. This farm has been Ethan’s bolt hole when he and Mary Jane didn’t see eye to eye. They fell out about it, and Bob felt right bad. So Bob was dead upset not to have been here for Harriet, as if he’d let Ethan down twice.’
    ‘Where was Bob that afternoon?’
    ‘In the far field, clearing a ditch. With the size of this place, it’s all hands to the deck most of the time and we’re coming to the end of the lambing so it’s twenty-four hours some days. I’d gone to check the ewes while Arthur was milking.’ She patted the lamb and stood up. ‘I’ll make that tea now. Arthur will be ready for a cup.’
    Through the window, I saw a girl sweeping the yard. She looked as if she ought to be at school.
    ‘Is that your daughter?’
    ‘Oh no. I have no children. She’s just a kid that does for me.’
    ‘She’s very young.’
    ‘She’s gone thirteen. I keep her out of charity really. I’m sure there’s older lassies in the village would do better, but I can’t turn her out.’ Mrs Conroy tapped on the window. ‘She can have a cup of tea and take some to the men.’
    The girl turned quickly. She looked a sullen little thing. A moment later she dropped the broom and came through the door, wiping her feet. She ignored the two of us but went to the lamb, stroked its head and spoke a word or two.
    Mrs Conroy called to her. ‘Take out this tray to Arthur, and if you see Mr Conroy let him know we’ve a visitor.’
    The girl went out, leaving the two of us at the table. Georgina Conroy returned to the topic of the missing Ethan.
    ‘I made Mary Jane and the bairns stop here for their dinner on Sunday.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘Not that she had much appetite.’
    ‘That was good of