Free Fethering 02 (2001) - Death on the Downs by Simon Brett, Prefers to remain anonymous

of which he sought to deny. He had met her once or twice when she’d come up for exploratory chats with Tamsin and hadn’t disguised the fact that he thought her only one step away from charlatanism.
    “I’m very sorry to hear about the rumours going round the village,” Jude continued. “I’m sure it’s nothing to do with Tamsin.”
    “What do you know about it?” Miles Lutteridge demanded brusquely. In their previous encounters he’d always managed to stay the right side of politeness. Worry was taking its toll on his civility.
    “I don’t know anything for certain,” Jude replied evenly. “I just think it very unlikely that Tamsin would have stayed around this area.”
    “Do you mean you know where she did go?” The glint in his eye revealed both hope and suspicion. “I bet she went off with one of your lot.”
    “By ‘my lot’, do you mean some alternative therapist who was trying to help her with her illness?”
    “If ‘alternative therapist’ is what you want to call it, yes. I mean some New Age quack doctor who took my daughter for everything she was worth by giving her false hopes he’d find her a cure.”
    “Are you talking about someone specific?” asked Jude.
    But Gillie decided the conversation had become too adversarial for polite society. “Miles,” she intervened, “it’ll be all right, I promise.”
    “How can you make promises like that? What meaning do they have? You aren’t a god. You can’t bring Tamsin back to life, Gillie.” He was getting very overwrought now. Tears glinted in his eyes.
    “I don’t need to bring her back to life. She is still alive.”
    “Can you give me any proof of that?” he bellowed.
    There was a long silence while husband and wife held each other’s gaze. Gillie seemed about to say something, but decided against it. She looked down and shook her head.
    “See!” He spat the word out. “Why does it happen to my daughter? First she gets some phoney illness. Then she starts mixing with alternative therapists.” He loaded the words with contempt. “And now she’s probably dead!”
    “Miles, she isn’t!”
    But he’d gone. Afraid to have his tears witnessed, Miles Lutteridge had stormed out of the room.
    Jude talked to Gillie for a while, but little new was said. The mother retained her conviction her daughter was alive; the father was convinced she was dead. And all Jude was aware of was how much this new situation had driven a wedge into their marriage. While everything had been going well, Miles and Gillie Lutteridge seemed to have been fine. Tamsin’s illness made the first crack in their unity, pointing up the differences between them—Gillie’s belief in the illness and her search for a cure, Miles’s disbelief and desire to pretend it wasn’t happening. And the discovery of the bones at South Welling Barn had made that rift wider still.

TEN
    H aving cracked that first clue, Carole’s mind moved up a gear and she had nearly completed the Times crossword by the time Jude joined her in the Hare and Hounds. They ordered cottage pie and yes, both did have a glass of white wine.
    “Just the one,” said Carole automatically. “Driving.” Then she asked about her Mend’s visit to the Lutteridges.
    “Odd. Very odd.” Jude screwed up the skin around her large brown eyes. “Miles was in a terrible state of panic, but Gillie seemed unnaturally calm.”
    “Is she normally a calm person?”
    “From the outside, yes. If you didn’t know her, you’d have no idea what she’s thinking. But over the time I spent with her and Tamsin, I did get to know her quite well, and she’s not calm—at least not where her daughter’s concerned. But this morning she kept saying she knew Tamsin was all right.”
    “Positive thinking.”
    “Maybe it’s just that. I kept wondering whether maybe she was telling the truth. She knows that Tamsin’s all right.”
    “But if she did know that, surely she’d tell her husband? If he’s in as bad a