Free A Crowded Coffin by Nicola Slade Page A

refectory, but no more than that. And now it’s way past midnight,’ he reminded her. ‘I think I’ll be off to bed.’ At the door he remembered something. ‘Hang on, what were you saying about young Elvis? I know you’ve got an over-active imagination, Harriet, but you surely can’t link him to some rolling stone of a chap who did a bunk when his life probably got too complicated by debts or women, or both?’
    ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ she agreed meekly. ‘Everyone who’d been in The Angel that night was questioned, Elvis included – he told me tonight. But then, he was the one who found Walter the other night. Complete coincidence, I’m sure.’
    At his questioning glance she explained. ‘Elv
eece
was coming home Wednesday after a gig in Andover and he saw tail lights heading off down the farm track. Luckily he had the sense to go and check it out and found Walter only minutes after he’d fallen and hurt himself. If he hadn’t been on the scene so promptly, God knows what would have happened.’
    Sam shook his head at her. ‘Conjecture, Harriet, based on gossip and a fevered imagination.’ He went off upstairs, leaving her frowning.
    The trouble was, she fretted, recalling recent conversations with local friends, that however illogical and without a shred of evidence, the entire village believed that Colin Price had come to a sticky end. The press of local opinion was compelling, even though common sense told her that it was nonsense,
    No, you’re right, Sam, she said to herself as she turned off the lights and shut the cat in the kitchen. It’s just another oddity, that’s all. Too many oddities: Colin Price disappearingafter asking about Walter and Penelope Attlin and the vicar; Elvis being at the pub at the same time that Price was last seen although I could have sworn Karen told me they hadn’t been here till April; and now Walter’s accident – if that’s what it was.
    With a shiver, Harriet recalled her conversation with Rory.
Oil
. Black gold deep in them thar hills. If it was true … if someone believed or actually
knew
there was oil there…. Three coincidences….

    Edith ran into her grandmother at about eleven the next morning.
    ‘Oh, Edith, I’m glad you’re up, darling.’ Mrs Attlin was looking remarkably bright-eyed and bushy-tailed considering she had still been wide awake at about one in the morning. ‘I’ve just had a phone call from Gordon Dean. He wanted to know if you might be at his drinks party today. It’s a noon start.’
    A groan from Edith brought a reproving glance. ‘I’m sorry, Edith, I forgot to tell you about it. I’d written to decline for Grandpa and myself – I knew it would be too much for us, even before this business with his collarbone. However, Gordon called this morning to extend the invitation to you and Rory, as you weren’t here, either of you, when he originally asked us.’ She shot Edith a firm glance. ‘I told him I thought you and Rory would be delighted. No, I know you don’t really want to go, but if you’re going to be at home for a while, you might as well make an effort and I’m sure Rory won’t mind accompanying you.’ She dealt her trump card. ‘Grandpa would like it if you went; you know how he feels about our responsibility to maintain links with the neighbours.’
    That was unanswerable so Edith nodded with an ill grace and went off to find Rory who looked equally unenthusiastic.
    ‘Lara asked me last night,’ he said. ‘I told her I didn’t think I’dbe able to make it but if your grandfather wants us to be there, there’s not much we can do about it.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Oh well, there’s still some time till we have to get tarted up, why don’t you show me around and tell me some more of the family history. I don’t know any of it; nobody seems to have told my father anything. I know that, because I asked him about it when I was a kid.’
    His lips tightened and she saw the shutters come down, so she