The Locked Room (Ruth Galloway #14)(32)

‘That won’t last,’ says Richard cheerfully. ‘Bye now.’



Sue Elver also answers the phone quickly. ‘I’m at home with my teenage children.’ she says. ‘Any diversion is welcome.’

‘Must be tough for teenagers.’

‘It is. My son was meant to be taking his GCSEs in the summer. Now they’ve been cancelled. It’s all going to be based on teacher assessments. He’s regretting now not having done any work for the past five years.’

Judy has already explained that she’s investigating the death of Karen Head. Now she asks Sue about her friend.

‘I still can’t get over it,’ says Sue. ‘It was why I left teaching really. Just couldn’t imagine school without Karen.’

‘Tell me about her,’ says Judy, knowing that this is the best way of asking this question.

‘Karen was great fun,’ says Sue. ‘That’s what I remember most. We laughed all the time. It’s the only way to survive teaching really, finding things funny. But it was a nice school and Richard’s a good head. I was happy there. Karen was happy.’ She pauses.

‘Was there anything that made her unhappy?’ prompts Judy. ‘Her divorce . . .’

‘Her divorce was as amicable as these things can be,’ says Sue. ‘She still got on well with Chris and they were devoted to Maisy, their daughter.’

Chris had discovered Karen’s body, Judy remembers. She must talk to him next.

‘Can you think of anything that was worrying Karen in the weeks before her death?’

There’s another pause. A more significant one this time.

‘She was seeing someone,’ says Sue. ‘And she said I’d disapprove.’

‘Did she say why?’

‘No, but I got the impression there was an age difference. Something like that.’

‘Did she say anything else about this person?’

‘No,’ says Sue. ‘But I was a bit worried. I wish I’d asked more.’

But people don’t always ask those questions, thinks Judy. And now it’s too late.



By six o’clock, Ruth is exhausted, her head thumping, her vision blurred. This feels more tiring than driving to work and back in the rush hour. Ruth has done two Zoom lectures and three tutorials. She has also overseen Kate’s schoolwork and tempted her out for a walk to the sea. They came back with a pile of ‘interesting stones’ that will probably never move from the middle of the kitchen table. Ruth has also made lunch and sundry snacks for Kate and Flint. Now they are both making noises about supper.

Ruth looks down at her emails. There seem to be even more of these than usual: students asking for reassurance, lecturers unable to log onto Zoom, opportunistic companies wanting her to spend money. Three messages immediately catch her eye. The first is from Janet Meadows saying that the plague exhibition will now be a virtual event. Ruth sends a quick reply commiserating and congratulating. She adds a quick PS. Do you know anything about researching the history of a house?

The next two missives are blasts from her romantic past. The first is Daniel saying that he is thinking of her ‘in this strange new world of ours’. The next is from another ex-boyfriend, Peter Snow.

Hi Ruth. Interesting times, eh? Px.

Ruth met Peter when they were excavating the Bronze Age henge. It had been a magical summer, long days digging and long evenings by the camp fire watching the birds wheeling across the Norfolk sky. Peter wasn’t an archaeologist; he was a historian who turned up one day and offered his help on the site. He had been enthusiastic, so enthusiastic that he almost drowned in quicksand trying to reach the buried timbers. Erik had saved him, crawling over the treacherous ground with his hand held out. That night, Ruth realised not only that Peter had nearly died but also that she loved him. Life was suddenly very precious. Erik’s wife Magda seemed to read her mind and suggested that Ruth and Peter go and collect samphire together. There, by the water’s edge, they had, simply and sweetly, walked into each other’s arms. Peter had encouraged her to apply for the job at UNN and to buy the cottage. They were together for nearly five years and Ruth was so used to Peter that she didn’t at first notice that she’d fallen out of love with him. She ended the relationship, to her mother’s horror, and, apart from a strange, abortive reunion twelve years ago, Ruth hasn’t seen Peter since. She knows he’s now married with a child. There’s no mention of either in his email. Ruth’s finger hovers over the reply arrow.

Hi Peter. Hope things are OK with you. This is a strange, scary time, isn’t it? I’m still working at UNN, though struggling to teach my students online at the moment as well as home-schooling my daughter, Kate. Peter – this might seem odd but do you remember anything about the people who had the cottage before me? I’ve been doing a bit of research. Ruth.

Ruth wonders whether Peter will respond but, when she opens her laptop later that evening, after Kate is in bed, there’s another email from him.

Hi Ruth. Great to hear from you. Funnily enough, I’ve been thinking a lot about the cottage. We had some fun times there, didn’t we? I remember when we first bought the cats. Flint used to climb the curtains but Sparky was scared of everything. I don’t remember anything about the previous owners. You always made it very clear that the purchase of the house was nobody’s business but yours. The only thing I remember is that it used to be called ‘The Cabin’. We used to joke about that. The Evil Dead and all those horror story tropes.