Part 4 (2/2)

'I'm not senile.' The man glowered at her. 'I went to her funeral. You don't get up after one of those.'

'Not usually, no. What can I do for you?'

The man looked down, his face abruptly red. He didn't answer.

'The thing is, as we've already established, I'm not Iris, so I probably can't help you anyway. You're better off going to the chemist. Or the doctor. Or A&E.' Not my b.l.o.o.d.y kitchen.

He looked up. 'You're turning me away?'

'No. It's not like that. But I can see it's something you're embarra.s.sed about and if you do tell me, I'm not sure it'll be worth it as I don't know how I could help. I run a crafts and antiques stall and I barely knew my great-aunt and I've just moved in and people keep turning up and won't leave me alone.'

The man chewed his lip. 'Iris mixed me a cream. It soothed my chilblains.'

'Chilblains?' What was embarra.s.sing about poor circulation?

He nodded defiantly.

'The problem is, I don't know how to make the cream. And there wasn't anything left in her work room. It was cleaned out as far as I could tell. I don't even know what's in it. I don't know where to start.'

The man got creakily to his feet saying, 'I won't bother you again.'

Gwen felt like h.e.l.l. 'Won't you stay for a cup of tea, at least?'

'I won't bother you,' he said again, his mouth set into a stubborn line.

'I really am sorry.' Then Gwen spotted the fruit cakes she'd just taken out of the oven. She got one of the tins down from the cupboard.

'Take this.'

'What is it?'

'Fruit cake. Drop the tin back to me when you've finished.'

'Will it help my chilblains?'

'No, no. I just feel bad about you coming out in this cold and-'

The man had the tin and was tucking it noisily into a carrier bag that had appeared from his coat pocket.

He stuck out his hand and they shook awkwardly. 'I'm Fred Byres. Number six Meadowmead.'

'Nice to meet you,' Gwen said.

He raised a hand and disappeared down the path at a surprisingly fast clip, rustling.

Gwen took a deep breath and then dialled the number on the solicitor's letterhead and asked for Cam. When she heard his voice, she sagged against the wall.

'It's Gwen. Harper.'

His voice changed, went tight. She couldn't blame him. He'd made it quite clear that he was still angry with her for the way she'd left things all those years ago. Time heals was a big fat lie. 'I was wondering if I could talk to you about my aunt.' She looked around the hallway; the doors leading off were like eyes watching her. 'I feel a bit weird living in her house when I didn't know her. I've been sorting through her stuff and it just feels wrong. I feel like an intruder.'

'So go home.' Cam's voice was flat.

'I don't want to,' she said carefully. No need to explain that she didn't have one. Or, rather, End House was it. 'I'm going to stay.'

Cam didn't say anything and Gwen could almost hear his sneer down the line.

'At least for the time being,' she added, wis.h.i.+ng with all her being that he wasn't so hostile. Or that it didn't bother her so much.

'Why don't you ask your family? What about your mum?'

'They didn't get on. Something happened when I was a kid and we weren't allowed to see her any more. We weren't allowed to use her name, actually.' Gwen forced a laugh to show she knew it sounded overblown and ridiculous. Not the kind of way that she, rational, normal, Gwen Harper would ever behave.

'I didn't know her very well,' Cam said. 'Just in a professional capacity.'

'Please. Anything at all would help.'

'Didn't you say you live next door to her old carer? She'd know more than me.'

'Cleaner. And I'd rather get a different viewpoint. I know it's an imposition, but I won't take up much of your time. I'll come into town and we could have coffee. Or lunch. I'll buy you lunch.'

'Bribery is illegal, you know.'

Gwen smiled, relieved at the lightening in his tone. 'Whatever it takes.'

There was a sudden loaded silence. Then she heard him sigh. 'Tomorrow. One drink after work.'

'That's brilliant, thanks so much-'

He cut across her. 'And you're buying.'

The next day, Gwen parked Nanette as close as possible to the town centre, realising too late that she would've been better off just walking from the house. She ended up in a small pay and display car park, and trekked the mile to Cam's office. Irritatingly, he was waiting inside his Lexus at the kerb. She pulled open the pa.s.senger door and he jumped slightly. 'h.e.l.lo.'

'Is the pub far, because my car is practically back at End House, closest I could get.'

'Oh, yes. Sorry. Parking is a pain.'

'It's fine,' Gwen said, and got into the car. She needed to dial down the hostility, get things with Cam onto a polite, grown-up footing. He wasn't looking at her, though, which was annoying. Then he spoke to the steering wheel. 'I was just about to call you and cancel, actually.'

'Oh?'

A high-pitched chiming noise interrupted them. Gwen winced and looked around for the source of the awful sound.

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