Since Ben and Joss Beckett took over The Fair Maid and Falcon, they have had to deal with ghosts, gangsters and well-dodgy goings-on. Despite that they have their own family of twin daughters and dogs, and a fabulous ‘found family’ of friends.
August ground towards an end. It was hot, dry and enervating, enlivened by the odd crack of dry thunder. And the pub was jumping from opening time until we closed the doors on the last nightly revellers.
Ben and I quietly discounted helpful advice about how to maximise our heatwave profitability – like opening early for breakfast or having the pub open on every day of the week. Breakfasts would require yet another full kitchen brigade: staff we just didn’t have. And opening Sunday evening and Monday simply felt like a bridge too far. To clarify, for those who are not our regular customers, we have never opened on Sunday evenings and we made the decision to also close all day Monday a couple of years ago, when we calculated that the profit margins were healthy enough so to do.
To be brutally honest, without that weekly break I don’t know how we would have coped. All our usual staff got some time off, while the cleaning crew came in on Mondays and gave the place what their redoubtable boss referred to as ‘a good bottoming’.
And that’s where we were on a breathless Monday afternoon. The twins were in the orchard, with Sian, Jed and Finoula, pursuing their fascination with gardening, while me, Ben and the dogs lazed gently in the deep shade of our north-facing patio. We were idly talking about a staff bonus when the weather finally broke for good and also speculating about the lack of any more unwelcome visitors.
“I really hope Mr Seanmóir has put an end to our troubles.” Ben said. “I’d about had enough.”
“Me too, but it seems that when he preaches his gospel the congregation listens.”
“Preaches?”
“As far as I am able to ascertain Seanmóir means preacher.”
“Ascertain?”
“I googled it but I ain’t sure I got the spelling right.”
He chuckled. “Only you.”
He was just leaning in for a kiss when we were interrupted by the sound of running feet. Sian careered around the side of the house and hurdled the gate in one. She screeched to a halt in front of us.
“You need to come to the orchard. Now. Leave the dogs and come. Please.”
Her face was sheet pale under her tan, so we adjured the dogs to remain and followed her trim little figure through the car park and across the orchard to where Finoula was talking quietly to the twins and Jed was busily erecting what looked like an oversized cloche under a venerable tree.
Ben cantered over to our daughters, who looked solemn but not overly upset.
“What’s up?” I asked, keeping my voice as level as possible.
Roz grasped her daddy’s hand firmly. “Esme says the hidden ones are found. And you needs to tell the preaching man.”
“I expect I do. And also the police.”
“And Uncle Mark,” Ali put in.
“I’ll do all of those things, but first can you tell me what happened? Clearly and carefully.”
“We can.” They spoke as one child, which was happening less and less often as they grew and was indicative, I thought, of the need of comfort. Ben must have thought it too because he sat on the crisp brownish grass and gathered them into his lap. I put an arm around Sian, who snuggled close as the girls told their story.
“We have been weeding around the raspberry canes, and when we finished we went to clean our trowels in the long grass under that tree. We had rubbed away the dirt when we saw a something shiny. We bent down to look, and saw a golden ring in the earth. It was round something white and hard like a dog bone. We didn’t want to touch it so we called Jed, who bringed Finoula to see with her mind. She said the hidden ones was discovered and took us over here to talk. Jed went for a big cloche to cover what we found and Sian ran to fetch you.”
I bent and kissed them both. “You are mummy’s very good sensible girls. Can you and Sian take Daddy back to our garden and ask him nicely for an ice cream each. I have to do some phoning, then I will come and eat ice cream too.”
They went without a backward glance and I turned to Finoula and Jed.
“I have a feeling this is going to turn into a proper three-ring circus.” Then I looked at the cloche and felt a tug of sorrow for what I assumed was going to be a mother and baby.
Finoula extended a hand and I took it in both of mine.
“She was almost ready to give birth. They laughed when she understood that the child would die too. Bastards.”
Esme spoke aloud. “Will you tell her brother?”
“If Seanmóir is her brother I’m calling him right now.”
“He is. And you have the thanks of she who was hidden to protect the evil ones.”
Esme faded away and I took out my phone. Three calls later and I had done all I could.
“I wish we could give her some privacy,” Finoula said.
“We might be able to do just that.” I showed Jed my teeth. “Don’t we have a load of bamboo fencing that turned up one night from who knows where.”
He nodded, though the lines of strain remained around his mouth.
“What do you have in mind?”
“If I can get you some muscular assistance, would it be possible to fence across the boundary between here and the car park? And I’ll get the lane coned off so access from that way is stopped.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Us’ll set that in train.”
I was about to phone Ben and get him to hunt up some muscle, when the man himself appeared followed by a dozen husky young lads.
“I emptied the bothy,” he said. “Esme deigned to speak to me. Said you would need muscle.”
“We do. Because we’re going to give that poor girl some privacy.”
“What can I do?”
“Nothing involving tools. But you and Simeon could get the road cones from the beer store and cone off the lane up to the memorial garden. Let’s stop the nosy bastards from sneaking up that way.”
Ben and Simeon went and Jed took charge of the fencing crew. By the time the local police, in the shape of a sturdy middle-aged WPC in a squad car and DS Graham Murray in his souped-up Beamer, arrived a tall fence was taking shape.
Graham came over to me.
“What’s afoot Joss?”
“There’s what looks to be human bones buried in the orchard?”
“Bugger. New bones?”
“I don’t think so. There doesn’t seem to be any flesh attached. But not centuries old neither.”
“Show us.”
Jed took them over and lifted the edge of his cloche.”
Graham sighed. “I’ll call SOCO in. And I need to speak to the person who disturbed the earth.”
It was my turn to sigh. “I’d prefer you not to.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was Roz and Allie.”
“Oh right. Fuck. I need advice. But I will have to talk to them.”
“I’m sure you will. But I’d like to ask that they are only spoken to once.”
The WPC looked confused.
“Roz and Allie are my twin daughters. They are six years old.”
“Well shit. That rather muddies the water. Were they digging?”
“Not where the bones are. They had been weeding around the raspberry canes over in the corner. Came over here to clean their trowels in the longer grass under the tree. Saw something shiny and called for adult assistance.”
“They did good, then.”
She looked at Graham. “A word of advice Sarge?”
“Advise away.”
“Best leave it until SOCO determines precisely what we have here. Then we’ll talk to the kids. Once. With their parents present. Record it and then it’s all neat and tidy.”
He nodded. “Whose idea was the fence?”
“Sort of mine. I wanted to give the bones some privacy. They seem awfully naked somehow.”
“What about the back lane?”
“We coned that off too.”
“Good. Keep the wowzers at bay.”
I was wondering how long it would take for our off the cuff precautions to be breached when a bus load of roaring boys turned up from who knew where and appointed themselves guardians of the orchard. I left them in conversation with Ben and the representatives of law and order and went to see my daughters.
Finding them on the grass on the shady of our private garden I sat down beside them.
“Are you all right my darlings?”
They came and cuddled one either side of me.
“We’re a bit sad for the poor lady who was buried in the orchard. But Grandmother ‘splained us that we did good to find her.” Roz sounded subdued but not unduly upset.
Ali put up a hand and touched my face. “It was funny, Mummy, because I could hear Grandmother too. And smell her scent.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t like that all the time.”
Roz leaned over and took her sister’s hand. “It’s okay Ali. She won’t do it any more. It was only so she could tell us that the lady and her baby is free now because we found her.”
“I know. And I was glad to hear it.”
“It’s just a bit unsettling to hear the voice of a person you loved.” I said.
Ali smiled. “It was. But if we helped the buried lady I don’t mind.”
“Oh you helped her. And you did precisely right. I’m very proud of you. There is a thing, though.”
“What’s that Mummy Beckett?” They spoke together although this felt more like solidarity than leaning on each other for reassurance.
“At some time soon, you are going to have to tell some police people how you came to find the bones.”
“We can do that.” Ali said calmly.
“But not mention Grandmother or Esme,” Roz showed me her dimples.
“Indeed not. Now. Did Daddy get you some ice cream?”
“He did not. Because we wanted to wait for you.”
“And now I expect you want to wait for Daddy.”
“We do, but he’s just coming.”
That was Roz who has supernatural help with some things, so I wasn’t surprised to see Ben’s tall figure come through the back gate. Sian was with him, laughing at something he said and I understood that I had no need to worry about her.
“Knickerbocker Glories all round?” I suggested, to be greeted by rapturous applause.
There will be more from Joss, Ben and their friends, courtesy of Jane Jago, next week, or you can catch up with their earlier adventures in Who Put Her In and Who Pulled Her Out.
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