Murder at the Laurels Read Online Free PDF Page B

lived in a flat in a big Victorian house in London. When my father died, Frank took over the house and we had to move out. I assume my father had left it to Frank, or perhaps it was jointly owned and it passed straight to Frank. I don’t know. I was only about twelve, so all I knew was that we had to leave.’ Fran stared into the empty fireplace. ‘It caused a lot of bad feeling.’
    â€˜I can imagine,’ said Libby, indignantly. ‘Why couldn’t they just live in the other flat?’
    â€˜Frank did. It was after he married Eleanor that we had to go. I don’t really understand what went on. My mother wouldn’t speak about it, and we didn’t have any further contact with them from then on.’
    â€˜So what about Charles?’
    â€˜He was Eleanor’s nephew. I vaguely remember him at their wedding. It was a huge shock to hear from him.’
    Libby looked thoughtful. ‘Why, do you suppose? I mean, after all these years – thirty or so, I suppose – should she decide she wanted to see you?’
    â€˜It’s more than forty years, actually, and I really have no idea. In fact, Charles didn’t say she wanted to see me. Perhaps it was his idea.’
    â€˜I’d ask him. Will you go to the funeral? You’ll see him then, won’t you?’
    â€˜Oh, yes, he’s offered to give me a lift. Funny, I haven’t even met him, yet.’ Fran leaned down to put her mug on the hearth. ‘But I shall speak to him when I go back tomorrow, because I just have this feeling that everything’s not quite – right.’
    â€˜Because of the dream? And the feeling in her room?’
    Fran frowned. ‘I suppose so. And I want to find out about this Barbara Denver, who Charles says is a sort of cousin.’
    â€˜Barbara Denver? Good grief!’ Libby sat forward.
    Fran looked up, surprised. ‘Do you know her?’
    â€˜We all know Barbara Denver. And her precious son.’
    â€˜Great!’ Fran settled more comfortably into her armchair. ‘Tell me all about them.’
    Libby stared up at the ceiling. ‘She was small and pale. Fair hair and slightly buck teeth. Wore her hair in a single plait. Terribly neat. Barbara Stone, she was then.’
    â€˜You’ve known her a long time, then?’
    Libby nodded. ‘Known of her. Since we moved to Kent. She modelled for a bit, but not very successfully. Still, it brought her into contact with old man Denver, and she would never have met him otherwise.’
    â€˜So who was he?’
    Libby finally lit her cigarette and blew out a long ribbon of smoke with relish. ‘Old man Denver owned Blagstock House. ’Course, he wasn’t so old, then, but he was a good twenty years older than Barbara. He was something big in the city.’
    â€˜So how did he meet Barbara?’
    â€˜His wife organised a charity fashion show.’
    â€˜His wife?’ Fran was surprised.
    â€˜Oh, yes, he was married then. Large committee woman. Did a lot for charity. That’s why she organised the fashion show, and, as a local girl, Barbara was included.’
    â€˜So what happened?’ Fran prompted, after Libby had fallen silent. ‘Did she divorce him, the wife?’
    â€˜Eventually. He got Barbara pregnant.’
    â€˜Heavens! So he did the decent thing?’
    Libby shook her head. ‘Not really. He tried to keep it quiet – offered Barbara money for an abortion, you know the sort of thing. But she wouldn’t have it and kicked up a terrible fuss. I don’t know the details, but the upshot was that he moved out of Blagstock House and set up home with Barbara. His wife divorced him after the statutory two years, or whatever it was then, took a huge settlement and moved to France.’
    â€˜So they moved back into Blagstock House? With the baby, presumably.’
    â€˜Young Paul, yes. And then she insisted he married her.’
    â€˜Which he did.