The Locked Room (Ruth Galloway #14)(25)

‘We have our regulars, of course,’ says Wendy. ‘Some people come to the Eucharist every day.’

‘Was Avril one of your regulars?’ asks Judy. They are sitting at the back of the church by a display showing the repairs needed for the tower. Judging by the graphs, the work will be completed some time in the next century.

‘Yes, she was,’ says Wendy. ‘She was very devout in her quiet way.’

‘Did she ever seem worried about anything?’ asks Judy.

‘Of course she was worried,’ says Wendy. ‘That’s what the church is here for. For worried people. That’s why we’ll always be here.’

‘Was she worried about anything in particular?’ asks Judy.

‘I can’t really say,’ says the vicar.

Is this because she doesn’t know, wonders Judy, or because of the seal of the confessional? Do Protestants even go to confession?

‘Avril seemed like a very nice lady,’ says Tony. Judy sees that his guileless charm is the right tack to take. Mother Wendy visibly relaxes.

‘She was. She was the sort who always kept busy. Doing the flowers, helping with the cleaning rota, collecting for charity.’

‘My mum’s the same,’ says Tony. ‘Always doing things for other people. I think she forgets to look after herself sometimes.’

Is this too heavy-handed? No, Wendy is smiling mistily at Tony. ‘That’s just it. Sometimes we forget to love ourselves.’

‘Is that what Avril was like?’ says Judy. ‘A bit hard on herself?’ She remembers Hugh saying that Avril ‘put a brave face on things’.

‘A bit,’ says Wendy. ‘She came from the Scottish Presbyterian tradition, of course. It’s all very Calvinistic and strict. Unlike us lot in the C of E.’ She laughs, sending a pigeon flying from the rafters.

‘Did Avril ever have suicidal thoughts?’ asks Judy.

‘She never mentioned suicide to me,’ says Mother Wendy, serious again. ‘But that doesn’t mean that she didn’t think about it.’

‘Do you know if Avril ever attended the service for the Outcast Dead in Norwich?’ asks Judy.

Wendy looks surprised. ‘Yes. There’s a group of us from the church who go every year. Such a lovely idea. To remember all those poor plague victims.’

‘Avril’s daughter mentioned a friend called Maggie,’ says Judy. ‘She said she was another churchgoer. Do you know who she meant?’

‘Poor Maggie,’ says Mother Wendy. ‘It was such a shock when she went.’



It turns out that where Maggie ‘went’ was to the afterlife. To heaven, if that’s the way your mind works. She died suddenly of a heart attack in January. ‘I think Avril was very upset about it,’ said Mother Wendy. ‘We all were.’

‘How old was Maggie?’ asked Judy.

‘Seventy but that’s no age these days,’ said Wendy, ‘and she was as fit as a fiddle, always exercising. Not a couch potato like me.’

‘Do you think that Maggie’s death might be suspicious?’ asks Tony as they drive back to the station.

‘I think we ought to investigate a little,’ says Judy, ‘but the coroner obviously didn’t see any cause for an inquest.’

‘Maybe losing Maggie is what pushed Avril over the edge.’

It’s rather a violent image, thinks Judy. She sees a figure teetering on a precipice. A shadowy figure appears behind them and sends them tumbling to their death. She suddenly thinks of Samantha Wilson and the demise of her cat, Trudy. According to her daughter, Saffron, Samantha had been ‘devastated’. Could these two bereavements have been triggers for suicide? Thinking of Samantha reminds Judy of something else.

‘Samantha Wilson went to the service for the Outcast Dead,’ she says. ‘Like Avril Flowers.’

‘What does that mean though,’ says Tony, ‘other than they were both religious?’

‘Suicides could be considered outcast dead,’ says Judy. ‘Their graves used to be unmarked, outside consecrated ground. It could show that Avril and Samantha were already thinking that way.’

‘Mother Wendy talked about plague victims,’ says Tony. ‘That made me think about coronavirus.’

Judy gives her colleague a sharp look. It’s unlike Tony to be so melodramatic but, then again, his family are originally from China where, it seems, the virus originated. He might know more than she does.

‘It’s hardly the bubonic plague,’ she says.

‘I expect that’s what they thought about the bubonic plague once,’ says Tony.

The rest of the drive passes in silence.





Chapter 13


Monday, 23 March

Ruth can’t believe how quickly things have changed in the past four weeks. One minute she was lecturing, excavating skeletons, having coffee in fake American diners, the next she is driving home with her car full of files and dividing her sitting room into part-office, part-schoolroom. On 19 March, Prime Minister Boris Johnson said that he was confident that coronavirus could be ‘sent packing’ in twelve weeks. On the evening of 23 March, Ruth sits with Kate on the sofa and watches Johnson saying that the country is going into lockdown. ‘Stay at home, protect the NHS, save lives.’ Ruth thinks the prime minister sounds slightly more coherent than normal, although his hair could still do with a good brush.