The Girl in the Picture. Kerry Barrett

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СКАЧАТЬ busy looking after the boys. And I said the same to Ben when he gently suggested that I switched on my laptop.

      ‘The boys,’ I said, vaguely, waving my arm in the direction of the garden. ‘We should probably think about getting some childcare.’

      Ben grinned. ‘I’ve thought,’ he said.

      ‘You have?’

      ‘Margaret,’ he said. ‘She’s Mike’s wife.’

      ‘Who’s Mike?’

      ‘The estate agent guy who rented this house to us,’ Ben reminded me. ‘His wife was a teaching assistant at the village school for years, but she’s retired now and he said she was looking for some part-time work.’

      I was thrilled. ‘She sounds perfect,’ I said. ‘Ring her.’

      So Ben did, and Margaret was just as keen as he thought she’d be.

      ‘She’s coming round to meet you now,’ Ben said, hunting for his car keys – he was off to do another medical on another player. ‘She said she’d love to look after the boys.’

      ‘She hasn’t met them yet,’ I said with a grin as Ben waved goodbye.

      But as soon as Margaret arrived, I knew we had to have her. She was just so capable. She sat at the kitchen table and made Stan laugh as I made tea.

      She’d brought little packets of Lego figures for Oscar, and a whoopee cushion for Stan, and the boys were already smitten with her. I liked her too.

      ‘It’s just afternoons, really,’ I explained. ‘I can take the boys to school and nursery and I’ll pick Stan up at lunchtime and feed him. If you could just come after lunch to watch him, pick Oscar up at 3p.m. and then give them tea, that would be great. I’ll be here – in the study – and Ben works funny hours at the football club so he might be around too. So if you need us, you can shout. Would that suit you?’

      ‘That would suit me very well,’ said Margaret. She was in her late fifties, perhaps, with neat blonde hair and a tidy figure in very clean jeans. I gave her a mug of tea and offered her a biscuit.

      ‘How are you settling in?’ Margaret asked, her eyes roaming my face. I tried to resist the urge to screw my nose up but I failed.

      ‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘Wonderful. Ben loves it. And the boys.’

      ‘And you?’

      ‘Not so much,’ I admitted. I rubbed the palm of my hand over my hair. ‘I’m restless and nervous that we’ve swapped our life in London – that we loved by the way – for this great unknown.’

      ‘Sometimes it’s good to take a leap,’ Margaret said.

      I nodded. ‘It’s definitely the right move for Ben. He’s got his dream job. As long as I’ve known him he’s wanted to run the physio department in a football club. He’s in his element.’

      ‘So you don’t want to tell him you don’t like it here?’

      ‘I don’t dislike it,’ I said. ‘Honestly, I don’t. It’s just different, that’s all. I’ve always been really nervous about taking risks or doing anything spontaneous – this move was risky and spontaneous so it’s no wonder I’m feeling a bit out of my depth. I don’t want to leave. At least, I don’t think I do …’

      Margaret patted my hand. ‘It will get better,’ she said. ‘Once the boys start school and you’re in a routine. And you’ll make some friends in the village.’

      I nodded, comforted. ‘I met a nice woman,’ I said. ‘Priya.’

      ‘Oh yes,’ Margaret said. ‘Pregnant?’

      I grinned. ‘Very pregnant. And I chatted to Ken in the hardware shop.’

      ‘He’s our next-door neighbour,’ Margaret said. ‘Ever so handy when something goes wrong in the house.’

      Again I marvelled at how everyone knew everyone else down here. ‘His friend Hal was there too,’ I went on. ‘And he said he’d heard stories about our house.’

      Margaret looked at me. ‘Stories?’ she said. ‘What kind of stories?’

      ‘Just about some things that happened here,’ I said vaguely, wanting to see what she knew before I told her what I’d heard.

      She nodded. ‘I’ve always thought it was a sad house.’

      ‘Sad,’ I said. ‘Why do you think it’s sad?’

      Margaret looked embarrassed. ‘It’s just silly gossip,’ she said.

      I offered her another biscuit and she shook her head.

      ‘My granddad told me something terrible happened here. I can’t remember exactly but I think someone died. Maybe more than one person.’

      ‘A murder?’ I said, possibly with a bit too much excitement.

      Margaret gave me a sharp look. ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘Or some sort of tragic accident.’

      ‘Your granddad,’ I said more to myself than Margaret. ‘So it must have been a long time before the Seventies, then. I could ask at the police station …’

      I realized Margaret was staring at me in horror and looking like she was about to leave – obviously she thought I was some sort of murder-obsessed criminal.

      ‘I’m a writer,’ I said in a rush. ‘I write crime novels.’

      ‘I’ve never really been one for books,’ Margaret said. She looked quite pleased about it. Or perhaps she was just pleased that the village newcomer wasn’t about to kill her in cold blood.

      I beamed at her. ‘Hal and Ken said they’d heard there had been a murder, but we all assumed it was recent. If your granddad knew about it, though, it could have been much earlier. I’d like to find out more about the history of the house. See if there is a mystery here.’

      Margaret screwed her forehead up in concentration. ‘I wish I could remember more,’ she said. ‘I think my granddad said no one ever knew what had happened. It must have been a really long time ago, though. Before he was born I think.’

      ‘I’ll do some digging,’ I said. ‘It’ll keep me busy.’

      ‘Do you have a lot of work to do?’ Margaret said suddenly.

      ‘I do, actually.’ I didn’t want to think about how I still had a whole novel to write. And maybe I could google the house, or find out who lived here years ago, and see if there was any record of this crime …

      ‘And is your husband here?’ Margaret looked round.

      I shook my head. ‘Pre-season fitness tests or something,’ I said.

      ‘So why don’t I take the boys out into the garden and you can have an hour or so getting yourself sorted out,’ Margaret said. ‘Give you a break, СКАЧАТЬ