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.
The rain was almost over the edge of what’s credible as it threw itself at the ground in cold sheets. Stan and Ollie got up from where the wet stuff was bouncing in on them and shepherded the staffies inside. Ollie poked his head out of the open door and gave the twins a steady stare. They waved their hands at him but went inside. Sian followed and shut both halves of the stable door.
I shivered and Ben chivvied us all inside.
“Fuck me,” Morgan whispered. “I thought last month’s storm was bad.”
Simeon leered down at her and she blushed rosily, before bouncing high enough to box his ears.
“It’s not nice to embarrass your girlfriend.”
He grabbed her in a huge embrace, and she peered at his face.
“Whassamatter you big lump?”
“That’s the first time you have ever said you’re my girlfriend.”
She lifted a hand to rub against his jaw. “Sorry, love. I’m just not finding it easy to admit to myself how much I…”
She stopped speaking and I thought she might cry. I searched around for the right thing to say, but Ben was ahead of me.
“Take an hour. Go and have a cuddle and talk to each other. You could have the beginning of something good here. Don’t lose it by not communicating.”
They went and I grinned up at him.
“Did you just give those kids shag leave?”
“Possibly. Probably.” His smile turned more than a bit wicked. “It’s a shame we don’t have the time right now.”
I swarmed into his arms. “Sex maniac.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Nope. Just stating facts.”
After a stolen kiss we went to work. Grinning.
Lunchtime turned out good be busier than the weather might have led me to expect though compared the the heatwave days it was a doddle. By three o’clock we were bussing the last tables and the kitchen brigade was standing down. I leaned against the bar and Ben came to stand beside me.
“Buy you a drink, pretty lady?”
“Yes please, handsome hunk.”
“What is madam’s pleasure?”
I laughed idly. “Surprise me.”
A particularly vicious gust of wind had us looking towards the door and a besuited gent who neatly furled a large black umbrella before placing it in the redundant milk churn that was doing umbrella stand duty. As he straightened up I caught a flash of very pale eyes and had to suppress a shiver. Ben must have seen it too because he whistled softly. Stan and Ollie appeared at my side. I put a hand on each noble brow and awaited developments.
The suited gentleman approached the bar and asked if there was any possibility of speech with Mrs Beckett. I lifted a brow.
“Who wants to talk to me?”
“My name would mean nothing to you.”
“Perhaps not, but I’d take it as a sign of good faith.”
He stretched his lips in a polite facsimile of a smile. “Perhaps it would, but what would you trade for my good faith?”
“Honest answers to whatever questions you have.”
He frowned. “And if I refuse to tell you my name?”
“Then we have nothing to say to each other.”
His jaw jutted like a flint axe-head and he attempted to stare me down. I, however, have been winning staring matches with hard men for a lot of years so I stared straight back. He held my gaze for a long beat then smiled, this time a little more naturally.
“My name is Cormac.”
“And I’m Joss.”
He made me a half bow, then scratched his chin. The scraping sound reminded me of fingernails on a chalkboard, but I held my calm.
“I’m not sure how to proceed,” he confessed.
“Just tell me what you want to know.”
“I’m interested in a body that was recently discovered on your land.”
“If by body, you mean a pile of bones…”
“I hadn’t thought, but now I do, it is likely to have been heavily decomposed.”
“And you know this because?”
“Because the young lady in question disappeared, supposed murdered some forty years ago.”
I treated him to a straight look. “This assumes that you know whose bones were found. You didn’t have anything to do with her demise, did you?”
“I did not. And may I ask why you say her?”
“Because the skeleton found in our orchard had a skeletal foetus inside it.”
He took that like a slap in the face.
“I did not know that.”
“No. It seems you didn’t. But what is your interest in a pile of bones? No matter how sad it’s still just a pile of bones.”
“So why did you hunt for her?” he demanded sharply.
“Nobody hunted for her. She was found by accident.”
“Is that the truth?”
I gave him my coldest stare. “Mister Cormac. I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you. But in return for your name I promised you honest answers.”
He had the grace to look shamefaced.
“I’m sorry. But our information was that you had teams of people digging up the ground behind the pub.”
“Whoever you bought your information from is a liar.” I said steadily. “And I could even guess at a name.”
“What name?”
“Proudly.”
“Because?” His eyes flashed a challenge.
“Because a certain Miss Proudly came at me and got a bloody nose in the process.”
“That works. Rom don’t like losing to gadjo.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I’m not precisely a gadjo. But. She was told to sit and stay by both the Lovell clan and the Smiths. They really aren’t going to be amused.”
“There may be a queue.”
I judged it best to tell him the truth of how ‘Cherry’ had been found.
“I have six-year-old twin daughters, who are very fond of gardening. They helped to set up a row of fruit cages at the top of the orchard. The plants are immature but require weeding. The girls like to weed. When they were finished, they cleaned their trowels in a patch of thick grass under an old apple tree, during which they saw something gleaming in the grass. Not knowing what it was they called for adult assistance. Once we saw it was bones we called the police. Who took the bones away. And that’s where our involvement ended.”
He looked truly deflated. “I am sorry to have bothered you.”
“So you should be. Are you going to tell me what you expected to find?”
“A shrine to a heroine of the Provos,” his voice was edged with real bitterness.
“Do,I look stupid?” I made my voice as acerbic as I could. “Why would anyone with even half a brain want their pub to become a place of pilgrimage for a group of terrorists?”
“What about if their business was on its uppers?”
I couldn’t help laughing although the insult also made me angry. “The Fair Maid and Falcon is probably the most successful pub in the county. I don’t need dubious characters like yourself, or your enemies, in order to be making a stonking big profit. And now, if you’re finished insulting me, and my business acumen, I think we’re done.”
He gaped at me and I looked at him as if he was something the dogs thad brought in from a walk in the forest. Stan growled softly, but the threat was implicit. Cormac bowed his head.
“We’ve been sold a pup haven’t we?”
“You have. And you could have saved yourself a good deal of the egg that’s currently on your face if you’d just googled the pub.”
He spread his hands. “My apologies. I really have put both feet in it haven’t I?”
“You have. And I’d have thought better of you if you had done some research before you came here.”
“Me too. But that girl’s disappearance has haunted me. It’s worse now I know she was pregnant.”
“Would it help to see where she was found?”
“It would. Though I have no right to ask.”
“Indeed you don’t, but I have the right to offer. It will be some small comfort to you I believe. Plus you can go back to your confederates and assure them that no shrine exists.”
He bowed his head. “I can. But for myself I’d like to see where she lay and offer a prayer for her soul.”
“Okay. But you’re going to get very wet.”
“It will be worth a wetting.”
Ben appeared with my wellingtons and the bright yellow oilskins I wore for wet walks in the forest. He also held a fairly disreputable parka and a pair of scruffy boots.
“Not pretty but waterproof,” he said. “And please remember that I expect you to be respectful to my wife.”
“I will. She’s a woman who inspires respect.”
Ben grinned. “She is. Don’t be backsliding will you.” His voice was pleasant but his meaning was quite clear.
I dressed myself in bright yellow waterproofs and our guest covered his suit with the elderly parka and removed his brightly polished brogues before sliding his feet into the oversized boots. I moved to the door and he stepped up to my side.
“Umbrella?”
I shook my head. “In this wind we’d just be chasing it. I’ve a sou’wester and you have a fairly disgusting hood.”
His smile was the most natural I had seen so far.
“So I do. Though I can’t help wondering where your husband found this coat.”
“Me too,” I smiled, unwilling to admit that the last time I saw the parka it had been lining a dog bed.
Outside it was wet and windy enough to make conversation impractical. I crossed the car park and opened the gate that led to the orchard via the overflow car park. The overflow is grassy and the ground squelched under my boots. Another small gate in the far corner led into the orchard where the ground was actually steaming. Pointing to the venerable apple tree under which ‘Cherry’ has been concealed, I stood back.
My companion moved like a very old man as he walked to the spot. I hadn’t thought too much about what a prayer for her soul might entail, but if I had I’d not have considered a hard man on his immaculately tailored knees in the pouring rain with his head bowed.
I averted my gaze, feeling somehow voyeuristic, and waited quietly.
He wasn’t long, and once he finished he followed me back into the dry warmth of the bar without a word.
Ben helped me out of my oilskins while Cormac wriggled out of his borrowed ‘finery’. He tied his shoelaces with careful precision before making me a sort of half bow.
“Thank you for your time and your honesty, Mrs Bennet. I can promise that you won’t be bothered again.”
He left without fanfare or ceremony, closing the door quietly behind him.
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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