The Locked Room (Ruth Galloway #14)(52)

Judy is touched that he’s remembered her name (and got her rank right) but somehow sad that he’s so pleased to see her. How many visitors does the old man get? she wonders. Vulnerable people are being told to shield which, in practice, means never leaving their house.

‘I just wondered how you were,’ she says. ‘I can’t come in, I’m afraid, and we should keep two metres apart.’ She says this because Hugh has moved closer, peering short-sightedly.

‘I’m fine,’ says Hugh, backing away. ‘I do my exercises every morning and go for a walk round the block. And I like watching the birds in the garden.’

‘What about food?’ says Judy. ‘Are you managing OK?’

‘The local Co-op delivers,’ says Hugh. ‘And I don’t eat that much.’

Judy’s heart contracts but the comment reminds her of the purpose of her visit.

‘I know it’s a strange question,’ she says, ‘but did Avril go to Lean Zone meetings? It’s a slimming group.’

But Hugh answers immediately. ‘Yes, she did. Not that she needed to lose weight. But you ladies are all the same. Even my late wife was, and she was as slim as anything.’

Judy doesn’t argue with this although she’s never dieted in her life. She knows that old people have different attitudes. Her grandmother keeps asking when Cathbad is going to make an honest woman of her.

‘Do you remember if Avril had any friends in the group?’

‘There was one woman. A nurse, I think. Avril used to talk about her sometimes.’

‘Can you remember her name?’

‘No, but it might come back to me. Sometimes things come back to me in the middle of the night.’

‘Well, if it does, could you give me a ring? I’d be very grateful.’ Judy hands over her card.

Hugh holds it very close to his face. ‘Serious Crimes Unit.’

‘That’s just for show,’ says Judy. ‘I’m interested in non-serious crimes too.’

Hugh laughs, a surprisingly robust sound. Judy starts to say goodbye when he interrupts her. ‘You don’t know what’s happened to Tina Prentice, do you? It’s just that she usually rings me on a Sunday and she didn’t yesterday.’

Judy takes a deep breath. ‘I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.’



When Judy gets back in the car, she breathes deeply for a few minutes. In for four, out for eight. Hugh had taken the news pretty well. He’d swayed for a minute and Judy had been afraid that he was going to faint, but he’d recovered himself, getting out a large clean handkerchief and wiping his face with it. Even this had seemed touching to Judy. Who has proper linen handkerchiefs these days? This one had been ironed too. Maybe Tina had done it.

‘This Covid is a wicked thing,’ said Hugh.

Judy agreed that it was. She also promised to check in again on Hugh in a few days’ time. She wonders if she can contact social services but she’s sure they are overwhelmed at the moment and, on the face of it, Hugh seems to be coping well. It’s a lonely life though. She looks back at the house and sees the next-door-neighbour pruning her roses. Should she have a word, ask the woman to keep an eye on Hugh? As she ponders, her phone rings. Bethany Flowers. Avril’s daughter.

‘You left a message,’ says Bethany.

‘Yes,’ says Judy. ‘I just had a couple of questions. Nothing serious. How are you?’

‘I’m OK,’ says Bethany. ‘As well as can be expected.’ She gives a short laugh at the cliché. She sounds far more Scottish than Judy remembers. ‘It’s strange,’ Bethany goes on, ‘at any other time, I’d be able to keep busy, but I’ve been furloughed so I’m just sitting at home, thinking about Mum. James isn’t much help.’

Judy knows that Bethany is married with no children. James must be the husband. She wonders why he isn’t much help. Is he an essential worker or just generally useless?

‘It must be very difficult for you,’ says Judy. ‘As you know, we’re still investigating your mother’s death.’

‘That must be hard to do,’ says Bethany, ‘with everything locked down.’

‘It’s challenging,’ says Judy, touched that Bethany is thinking like this. ‘I was just wondering whether you’d had any further thoughts. Anything about your mum. However small. Anything that might be able to help us.’

‘Not really,’ says Bethany. ‘I’m more thinking about the past. When I was a wee girl.’

‘Your mum used to go to Lean Zone meetings, didn’t she?’ says Judy.

‘Lean Zone? Oh, the slimming group. Mum was always dieting but she never seemed to lose any weight. She didn’t need to anyway, in my opinion.’

‘I’ve just been to see your mum’s friend Hugh Baxter and he said that Avril had a friend at the group. A nurse, he thought.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ says Bethany. ‘Is Hugh all right? Mum was very fond of him.’

‘He seems fine,’ says Judy. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him.’ She wonders if Bethany knows about Tina but doesn’t feel up to delivering any more bad news.

They chat for a few more minutes and then say goodbye. The neighbour is still in her garden, poised with the secateurs. Judy is about to drive away when her phone pings. Cathbad.