The Locked Room (Ruth Galloway #14)(19)

Bethany doesn’t have much more to tell them. She has no idea how the bedroom came to be locked from the outside. She doesn’t know if anyone else, apart from Tina, had a key to the house but she thinks it’s unlikely. They take Tina’s address and the names of Avril’s closest friends, her next-door neighbour, Jean, and Maggie from the church.

‘There was also a man called Hugh that she used to see at the library,’ says Bethany. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have an address for him.’

‘We’ll ask at the library,’ says Judy. ‘Thank you. We’ll leave you in peace now, but we’ll stay in touch, keep you updated on any developments. And, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. You’ve got my card.’

‘Thank you,’ says Bethany. ‘You’ve been very kind.’



They decide to call on Jean first. The house next door is bigger than Avril’s but, Tanya notes, it doesn’t have the veranda.

‘I can’t believe it,’ says Jean. ‘Avril, of all people.’

‘Were you close?’ asks Judy.

‘As close as neighbours can be,’ says Jean, gesturing towards the garden wall as demonstrating the physical distance between the houses. In fact, by Tanya’s standards, the houses are quite far apart, set within large gardens. It’s not like the suburban street where Tanya grew up, where she could lean out of the window of her semi-detached house and pass notes to her friend Rachel – in retrospect, her first crush.

‘How long did you know Avril?’ asks Judy.

‘Ever since she moved here,’ says Jean. ‘It must be five years ago now. I’ve been here almost thirty years. I knew the previous couple well too. This is a friendly area.’ Jean is probably older than Avril, thinks Tanya, but what her mother would call ‘well preserved’, with tanned skin and short white hair.

‘How did Avril seem when you last saw her?’ asks Tanya.

‘Fine,’ says Jean. ‘We talked about the weather. You know, like you do.’

It doesn’t sound to Tanya as if the two women had a very close friendship. She asks if Jean saw anything unusual yesterday morning.

‘Unusual?’ says Jean, bridling slightly. ‘What do you mean, unusual?’

‘Just anything out of the ordinary,’ says Judy, with a quick glance at Tanya. ‘Any callers. Anything unexpected.’

‘I just saw the cleaning lady going in at about eleven,’ says Jean. ‘But I don’t spend all day looking out of my window. The first thing I knew was when the ambulance arrived. I went next door then to see if I could help but Tina said that Avril had . . . well, passed.’

‘Passed’ is Tanya’s least favourite euphemism for death. It seems far too casual somehow.

‘Do you know Tina Prentice, the cleaner?’ asks Tanya.

‘Everyone knows Tina,’ said Jean. ‘She was devoted to Avril.’





Chapter 10


Tina Prentice is certainly very upset about Avril’s death. She tells Judy and Tanya this whilst preparing lunch for two children, who look about two or three, feeding a white fluffy dog and making coffee.

‘I have the grandkids on Wednesday and Friday,’ she explains. ‘And my daughter’s dog. I clean on Tuesdays and Thursdays. On Mondays I work in a care home. Oh, and I take in ironing.’ She gestures at a pile of neatly folded clothing on the kitchen table. Tina lives about ten minutes’ walk from Avril’s bungalow in a semi-detached that Tanya at once categorises as ‘ex-council’. It’s very comfortable, though, with a cheerful yellow kitchen and wooden floors. Tanya can see chickens in the garden. She gives the place a solid six.

‘When do you have a rest?’ asks Tanya.

She means it seriously, but Tina laughs and says, ‘I’ll relax when I’m dead. I have Saturdays off. On Sundays I usually do a roast for the family.’

‘How long have you worked for Avril?’ asks Judy, sitting at the table. The children, a boy and a girl, in their booster seats, eye them solemnly. Tina moves the clothes and puts sandwiches and fruit in front of them. Tanya feels her stomach rumbling and hopes Tina hasn’t heard.

‘Like a sandwich?’ asks Tina.

‘No thanks. We’re fine,’ she says. She’ll have to get Judy to stop off on their way back to the station. Tanya is very keen on eating regularly. It’s the best way of burning calories.

‘I’ve worked for Avril since she moved here from Scotland about five years ago,’ says Tina. ‘She and her husband, Tony. Such a lovely man. They wanted to retire on the Norfolk coast but Tony died only a year after they moved here. Cancer.’

‘That must have been tough for Avril,’ says Judy.

‘Very tough,’ says Tina, now preparing chicken feed. ‘But she got on with things. That was the sort of woman she was. She got involved in the community.’

‘Could you tell us what happened yesterday?’ says Judy. ‘Sorry, I know this must be hard.’

Tina shoots a glance at the children, but they are still busy with their lunch.

‘I went round to Avril’s at eleven as usual,’ she says. ‘I remember it was a lovely day and there was a heron by Avril’s pool. I took a picture of it. Avril and Tony loved birdwatching. It was one of the reasons they moved here. Avril wasn’t in but that wasn’t unusual. She worked part-time at the library and did lots with the church. I cleaned the kitchen and hoovered the sitting room but when I went to Avril’s bedroom it was locked.’ She looks again at the grandchildren. ‘Do you two want to feed the chickens?’ she says. She helps them down and sends them into the garden with a pail. Then she turns back to Judy and Tanya.