Free Death in the Cotswolds by Rebecca Tope Page B

sure,’ I admitted, hanging my head. ‘I think I might have known her less well than I thought I did. It’s a scary feeling.’
    Most people would have come out with some truism about nobody really knowing anybody else. Instead, this woman took my hand, holding it lightly in hers. ‘I know how that goes,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid it gets worse. You forget exactly what they looked like.’
    I tested this, finding to my relief that I could conjure Gaynor’s face with very little effort. The clear blue eyes, wide-spaced; the thin lips and pointed chin. ‘I can still visualise her,’ I reported.
    ‘I’m still not sure about the Barrow,’ Thea said. ‘It’s a pagan site, is it?’
    ‘It’s a burial place, pre-Christian. It’s quiteatmospheric in the early mornings, before the traffic gets going. The traffic spoils it.’
    ‘Traffic spoils everything,’ Thea muttered. It felt like a lapse into something personal. Then she remembered herself. ‘So that’s why Gaynor went there? For the special atmosphere?’
    I stared at the sheepskin on the floor in front of the Rayburn, noticing a grubby mark on it. ‘I don’t know,’ I said, forcing myself to think. ‘Even if she hadn’t been – you know – I’d have been surprised to see her there. I’ve never known her to go there before.’
    ‘Perhaps somebody took her there by force.’
    ‘Maybe. But that would be difficult, wouldn’t it? She could have screamed or run away.’
    Thea nudged my tepid tea towards me. ‘Drink up,’ she urged.
    I took a half-hearted sip. ‘I think she must have gone because of the thing with Oliver,’ I decided. ‘And interrupted something going on and got killed for it. By a total stranger.’
    Thea didn’t pick up the reference to Oliver. Instead, one eyebrow kinked upwards in a gentle scepticism. ‘I think it hardly ever is a total stranger,’ she said. ‘The myth of the bogeyman and all that.’
    ‘Right,’ I nodded. This was more familiar ground. ‘It’s easier to think that, isn’t it?’ I tried to embrace the notion that somebody I knew had murdered Gaynor. It was impossible.
    ‘Phil’s likely to be back soon,’ she said, rather wistfully. ‘They’ll want to ask you lots of questions, I expect.’
    It took me a while to catch up with the meaning behind this. Eventually I got it. ‘He’s doing the investigation?’
    She nodded, with a sigh. ‘It’s technically in his area.’
    I struggled to think. ‘So why wasn’t I taken to the police station? Why this wait?’ I was still very cloudy-minded. ‘What’s going to happen next?’
    ‘They have to do all their forensic work and take Gaynor for a post-mortem and inform her family. The questioning is the next stage.’
    ‘You know a lot about it.’
    ‘I’m afraid I do,’ she said, with no further explanation.
    ‘She hasn’t got any family. I’m probably her closest friend.’ I remembered a few of the questions at the Barrow. Did I know the deceased? Did I have her full name and address? I had supplied the facts automatically, without the need for thought. I supposed that henceforward it would be much less simple.
    ‘How did she earn her living?’
    ‘Her father left her a bit and she sold the house and got a little flat. She manages quite well; I pay her as one of my knitters and she does other handiwork. She can make lace and braid. This is agood area for that kind of thing. There are still a few people who want everything done by hand.’ I heard myself using the present tense, knowing it was wrong, but unable to correct it. It was difficult enough to explain Gaynor, without getting my grammar right.
    Thea breathed in deeply, seeming to brace herself for something. It took me a few seconds to notice. ‘What?’ I asked her. ‘What’s the matter?’
    ‘This is going to seem like a wanton change of subject, so tell me if it’s too much for you. But I suppose we’ve got to talk about something while we wait.’
    ‘Go on,’ I invited,