The Locked Room (Ruth Galloway #14)(47)

Nelson has been strange ever since he got back from the halls of residence, thinks Judy. He kept ranting on about some student who had pictures of Ruth plastered all over the walls. They tried to trace this boy, Joe McMahon, but to no avail. Besides, as Judy ventured to say, it’s no crime to have someone’s photo on your wall. She’s never been a student but her bedroom at home had been a shrine to Michael Praed as Robin of Sherwood. Come to think of it, that probably explains a lot, from her son’s first name to her relationship with Cathbad.

Judy should be happy at the idea of having some free time. She, after all, is driving home to a house full of people. Cathbad will have cooked supper. Michael and Miranda will want to tell her about their day. Maddie will be on hand for some heavy-duty Grey’s Anatomy viewing later. But Judy knows that, some time over the weekend, she will be looking over the files on Avril Flowers. And on Samantha Wilson and Karen Head.

The family are all in the garden. Judy goes into the downstairs loo to wash her hands several times and then she goes out to join them. Maddie is tapping at her laptop, protected by a parasol. Michael and Miranda are digging their vegetable patch and Cathbad is siphoning recycled rainwater into a watering can. It’s such a peaceful scene, the air smelling of grass and newly turned soil, that Judy almost wants to stand and observe it without anyone seeing her. But Thing notices her immediately and rushes over to welcome her. Cathbad follows more circumspectly.

‘Good day?’

‘OK. Strange. I’ll tell you later.’ She doesn’t want to discuss Joe McMahon or the Lean Zone breakthrough with Maddie in the background, probably online to the Chronicle at this very moment.

‘We’re making a bug hotel,’ says Miranda, pointing at a ramshackle collection of boxes in the middle of the lawn.

‘It’s more like a bug homeless shelter,’ says Cathbad.

Judy thinks of Nelson’s description of the UNN halls of residence. ‘Like a hotel in a war zone.’ She is very glad, once again, that her children are still at home with her, surely too young to be traumatised by this weird limbo-like time. For them, right now, it seems more like paradise than limbo.

‘And we’re going to have a worming,’ says Miranda.

‘A worm bin,’ corrects Michael. ‘I’m going to grow peas and broad beans in my bit of garden.’

‘I’m going to grow an enormous tree,’ says Miranda, determined to outdo him. ‘With silver bells and cockle shells. Like the rhyme.’

‘That’s about torture,’ says Maddie. ‘The silver bells are thumbscrews. I read it somewhere. “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary”. Mary is Mary Tudor.’

The boss had mentioned a poem too, Judy remembers. Stone walls do not a prison make. Nor iron bars a cage. It had been on Joe McMahon’s wall, alongside the pictures of Ruth. She realises that Cathbad is watching her and forces a smile.

‘Has anyone made banana bread? I’m starving.’

Banana bread, followed by a delicious supper, white wine and several episodes of Meredith Grey saving lives all put Judy in a better frame of mind. On Saturday morning they go for a walk on Wells beach, revelling in the miles of sand and the complete absence of tourists. I’m so lucky, thinks Judy, watching Thing run to collect a piece of driftwood. Imagine being locked down in London, or even Norwich. Surely you would go mad without this stretch of blue, this healing space between you and the horizon.

In honour of her work/life balance, Judy has left her phone at home. When she checks it, she’s irritated to see that she’s missed a call from Tina Prentice, Avril’s cleaner. There’s a voice message, somewhat breathless.

‘Hallo, er . . . Judy. You did say to call if I remembered anything. Well I’ve just remembered that I did see someone at Avril’s house that day. Can you give me a ring back?’

Judy does so and leaves a message. Later that afternoon, when the children are watching The Lion King on DVD, Judy rings again and, to her surprise, someone answers. It doesn’t sound like Tina. This voice is younger. More anxious.

‘Hallo? Who is this?’

Judy explains.

‘Mum’s been taken ill. This is Denise, her daughter. She’s gone to hospital.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I hope she’ll be better soon.’

Judy does not like to say the C word but Denise does it for her. ‘They think it’s Covid,’ she says.



So, this is what it’s like, thinks Ruth. This is what it’s like to wake up with Nelson, have breakfast with him and discuss what they’re going to do all day. And, at times, when they are all sitting in the kitchen, eating bacon sandwiches and laughing at Flint’s attempts to ignore Nelson, it really does seem like the purest happiness. At other times, when Nelson turns on the television – without asking – and seems mesmerised by some football programme, it’s less delightful. It’s not even a recent match. There’s no live football, or any other sport, because of the pandemic.

‘Let’s go out for a walk,’ says Ruth.

‘I want to watch the football,’ says Kate, sitting next to her father on the sofa.

‘Who’s playing then?’ asks Ruth.

‘It’s . . .’ Kate stares at the screen. ‘Mun and Ack Milan.’

Nelson laughs. Ruth looks at Flint and is sure that the cat raises his eyebrows.