Free Framed in Cornwall by Janie Bolitho

and sat down, uninvited. ‘Look, Rose, I apologise if I upset you, but are you really convinced she wouldn’t kill herself?’
    ‘One hundred per cent.’
    Jack stretched out his long legs and stroked his chin. ‘We’ll have to wait for the inquest but we’re making discreet inquiries.’
    ‘Oh?’ Rose continued ironing, annoyed that he should turn up unannounced.
    ‘Mm, very discreet because there was no sign of forced entry and from all accounts nothing seems to have been taken. Her purse was there with money in it and—’
    Rose stood still. ‘You mean you believe me?’
    ‘I’m not saying that, I’m simply saying that nothing points to it being anything other than suicide except that she wasn’t registered with any local doctor and it wasn’t paracetamol which she swallowed. And it seems a bit extravagant to find a doctor out of the area if you intend taking your own life because there’re enough drugs behind the counter of any chemist’s shop to do the trick.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘So, is there any chance of you nosing around? You know the family.’
    ‘I see. Once more I’m supposed to do your job for you.’ She flung her hair back over her shoulder angrily.
    ‘Oh, Rose, you’re always so defensive. I thought you’d be pleased. Do as you wish. I really came here to see if I could buy you a drink. I thought you’d need cheering up.’
    He is very handsome, Rose thought, and I’m attracted to him, but if he can irritate me this much now, how much worse would it be if the relationship were more serious? She unplugged the iron, wondering if the job would ever be done. ‘All right then, but somewhere local.’
    ‘The Star?’
    ‘The Star’s fine.’
    They made no overt signs of affection in public, it would have been out of character for them both. Instead they strolled down the narrow pavement of the hill in single file, stopping for a minute to watch a fishing-boat turn in through the mouth of the harbour. There was a cat’s cradle of masts alongside the north pier and the smell of fish was stronger there.
    The bar was basic, designed for working men who came in in their boots, but the walls were covered with photographs of local boats, the sea sweeping over their bows or engulfing them altogether, white spume flying, seagulls in their wake.
    Rose knew many of the customers, as did Jack, who had been to school with some of them, and they were both at ease amongst these men. Their lives were dangerous but their living depended on the sea. They were loud, boisterous and often crude but this was one of their pubs and if others didn’t like it they could leave. To the uninitiated the events which took place in the local bars would seem bizarre but Rose knew she would never be happy anywhere else.
    They stayed for two drinks then Jack offered to walk her home. He noticed there was more colour in her solemn face. ‘I’ve got next Wednesday off, fancy going out somewhere for the day?’ He sometimes got the impression that she was about to say she didn’t want to see him any more but she said yes, if a little distractedly, and he said he would pick her up at ten.
    At her kitchen door he hesitated. Rose’s head was bowed as she unlocked it. ‘Thanks, Jack. ’Bye.’
    ‘Yeah. See you.’
    Rose closed the door and leant against it. ‘Oh, Dorothy,’ she whispered as she tried to stem the tears. Life seemed such a mess at times. Barry and Jack, both demanding her attention, Martin, left basically on his own, and Dorothy dead. ‘Oh God.’ She had not rung Barbara back and she was supposed to be going out with Laura that afternoon. At least she could sort one day out. Picking up the phone she chatted briefly to Barbara saying she was all right and that she would love to come to the party. How callous it sounded but Rose knew she had to start living properly, she had to start making things happen. Barbara sensed her need to be alone and did not keep her talking.
    ‘Laura? It’s me. Look, do you mind