The Bullet That Missed (Thursday Murder Club #3)(36)

‘What was his real name?’

‘Clive,’ says Pauline.

‘Well, I wish I’d met Clive too,’ says Joyce. ‘I wonder if he and Gerry would have got along?’

There is a pause, and both women laugh again. A waiter brings them a cake stand, loaded with tiny pastries and sandwiches. Joyce claps her hands.

‘I love a cream tea,’ says Pauline. ‘Now, while I eat a tiny eclair, why don’t you tell me why we’re here?’

‘I thought it would be nice to have a chat,’ says Joyce. ‘Get to know you, have a gossip.’

Pauline holds her hand up. ‘Joyce, spare me.’

‘OK,’ says Joyce, taking her first bite out of a two-bite sandwich. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Bethany Waites.’

‘You shake me to my core in surprise, Joyce,’ says Pauline. ‘Do you think you will want your eclair? I could swap it for a beef and horseradish?’

They make the trade.

‘I keep thinking back to the notes that Mike mentioned,’ says Joyce.

‘OK,’ says Pauline. ‘Do you think you’ll want your lemon tart by the way?’

‘No, please,’ says Joyce. ‘It’s just that you don’t always find things in the most obvious place, do you? I lost my tape measure the other day, for example, and it’s always in my kitchen drawer. Always. But I needed it, to settle an argument with Ibrahim about whose television was bigger, and I opened the drawer, and was it there? It was not. It was not in the obvious place. In the end it was on the bookshelf, heaven knows why. I didn’t put it there, and it certainly wasn’t Alan, was it?’

‘Have you lost your train of thought, Joyce?’

‘Not a bit of it,’ says Joyce. ‘I just mean that while everyone is off looking at Jack Mason, I wondered if I might look at South East Tonight, and see if anyone there might have killed her? For an entirely different reason. Does that make sense?’

‘As much sense as any of you make,’ says Pauline. ‘Ask me anything.’

‘So someone was leaving threatening notes for Bethany. In her bag, on her desk.’

‘So I hear,’ says Pauline.

‘Could it have been you?’

‘No.’

Could it have been Fiona Clemence?’

‘Could have been Fiona Clemence,’ says Pauline. ‘I doubt it, but not impossible.’

‘Jealousy?’

‘I don’t think jealousy is the right word,’ says Pauline. ‘They were both strong women. And in those days people liked to make strong women compete with each other. Like you couldn’t have two strong women in the same room at the same time. The world would explode.’

‘Perhaps I should speak to Fiona Clemence,’ says Joyce. ‘Do you think?’

‘I think you would like to speak to her, Joyce. That’s what I think.’

Joyce passes Pauline her lemon tart. ‘No harm in it. Now, the other day. What were you saying about Bethany’s clothes?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ says Pauline.

‘Houndstooth jacket and yellow trousers,’ says Joyce. ‘You asked who would wear that?’

‘Well, you know,’ says Pauline.

‘I don’t know,’ says Joyce. ‘Why mention it?’

‘Can I tempt anyone to another Prosecco?’ asks a waiter.

‘Yes, please,’ say Joyce and Pauline. As he pours, the two women are politely silent, save for the odd ‘ooh’ as the glasses fill.

‘Odd thing to wear, is all,’ says Pauline, and takes a healthy glug. ‘Not her style.’

‘Pauline,’ says Joyce. ‘Do you know something you’re not telling me?’

‘I think you’d work that out, don’t you?’

‘I’m not sure I would with you, no,’ says Joyce. ‘You’re not protecting someone?’

‘By talking about Bethany’s clothes? No,’ says Pauline. ‘I’m just interested in clothes. That’s the thing I would look at.’

‘They’re all concentrating more on offshore accounts than trousers,’ says Joyce.

‘Well, that’s why you’re a gang,’ says Pauline. ‘You don’t all have to concentrate on the same thing.’

‘And you mentioned that the CCTV was very blurry? That was an unusual thing to say.’

‘Joyce,’ says Pauline. ‘You were all sitting around with your theories and I just wanted to join in. Just wanted to have something to contribute. You’re quite an intimidating bunch when you get together.’

Joyce laughs. ‘I suppose. That’s mainly Elizabeth though, not me.’

‘Sure,’ says Pauline. ‘Tell me about Ron.’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘The bad stuff,’ says Pauline. ‘Anything I’ve missed while I’ve been staring into those beautiful eyes.’

‘Where to begin,’ says Joyce. ‘He can’t dress, he refuses to eat healthily, you can’t disagree with him, he’s too loud sometimes, especially in public, some of his attitudes are outdated, and he once gave me an hour-long lecture when I said I’d voted Lib Dem at the local elections.’