The Locked Room (Ruth Galloway #14)(7)

She tries not to stare at the objects being carried into the house but can’t help making a few value-judgements: tea-chest marked ‘Books’ (good), birdcage (bad), chaise longue (perplexing). Kate rushes upstairs to ‘do homework’ which Ruth suspects consists of texting her friends. Nelson bought Kate a mobile phone two Christmases ago and, although Ruth had disapproved at the time, it has proved a lifeline for a pre-teen living miles from any of her classmates. Ruth feeds Flint – who makes it clear that the food still in his bowl is no longer acceptable – and sits down by the window to do her own work. Should she go next door to say hallo? What would Cathbad do?

She has just decided that Cathbad would knock on the door with a bottle of locally sourced wine when she sees a figure walking down her path. Ruth hurries to open the door.

Her new neighbour is a pleasant-looking woman of probably Ruth’s own age. She has brown hair pulled into a messy bun and is wearing paint-stained dungarees.

‘Hi. I thought I’d come and say hallo. I’m Zoe.’

‘Ruth.’ Ruth extends her hand. ‘Would you like to come in for a cup of tea or coffee?’

‘That would be lovely if it’s not disturbing you.’ Zoe nods towards the open laptop.

‘No, it’s OK. Just answering a few work emails.’

‘What do you do?’ asks Zoe, following Ruth into the house.

‘I teach archaeology at the University of North Norfolk. UNN.’ Ruth always thinks that her institution has a very unpleasing acronym. It looks even worse written down.

‘That must be so interesting. I’m a nurse.’

‘Will you be working at the Queen Elizabeth?’

‘No, I’m a practice nurse. I’m starting with a GP surgery in Wells. Westway.’

‘Sounds great. I’ve got some good friends in Wells.’

‘It’s beautiful there. Well, it’s beautiful everywhere in Norfolk.’

Ruth warms to her neighbour. She likes people who appreciate her adopted county. Unlike Nelson who never stops moaning about the dullness, flatness and general lack of northern grit. And unlike Ruth’s mother, who thought Norfolk was godforsaken. And, in her case, she meant it literally.

Ruth and Zoe chat about work and family and pets. Zoe is from Lincolnshire, divorced with no children. She has a Maine Coon cat called Derek. Ruth explains about Kate and Flint.

‘Oh, I think I saw Flint in the garden earlier. Is he ginger? He’s gorgeous. Derek was a house cat when I lived in Lincoln but I’m hoping he can go out here.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be able to. It’s a very quiet road. It only leads to these three houses.’

‘I love the quiet,’ says Zoe.

‘Me too,’ says Ruth. It occurs to her that she might have found a friend but, before she can say more, Kate bounds in with demands to have a frog costume by tomorrow. ‘We’re doing an assembly about the environment.’ Zoe smiles and says she had better go. At the door, she adds that she can sew and would be happy to help with any future costumes. Better and better, thinks Ruth.





Chapter 5


‘. . . and making sure to wash your hands thoroughly whenever you come in. Experts suggest singing “Happy Birthday” twice over while you do it.’

Jo beams around the room. Nelson groans inwardly. Is this what his life has become? Listening to a woman in jogging clothes (‘athleisure-wear’ according to his woman officers) telling him to wash his hands? Jo asks if there are any questions and Judy would like to know if there are contingency plans in the event of the virus taking hold in the UK. Nelson shoots Judy a reproachful look. Don’t encourage her. Jo says importantly that she is on a coronavirus working party. Then, thank goodness, she leaves the room and Nelson can get on with his briefing.

‘There are a couple of things that bother me about the Gaywood suicide,’ he says. ‘I’d like you, Judy, to speak to the adult children. See if you can get a sense of the mother’s mood in recent months.’

‘Do you really think it could be foul play?’ asks Tony Zhang. He’s the newest member of the team and manages to get an unseemly relish into the words ‘foul play’.

‘There’s no sign of it,’ says Nelson, repressively. ‘There’ll be a post-mortem. That’s routine in cases like this. But, like I say, there are a couple of things. A ready meal in the microwave, for one thing.’

‘People don’t always act logically before taking their own lives,’ says Judy. ‘There are plenty of cases of people buying return tickets, that sort of thing.’

‘I know,’ says Nelson. ‘But it can’t hurt to check up.’ He stops himself from adding ‘there’s a good girl’. He has three daughters, two of them adult professionals, and knows where the line is. Judy is a detective inspector. She should really be leading her own team but, to do that, she would probably need to move from Norfolk. Nelson dreads that day although he knows he should be encouraging Judy to look for jobs elsewhere. Or retire himself.

When the briefing is over, Nelson goes to his office to prepare for a tedious meeting on regional crime targets. His secretary, Leah, brings him coffee and then, unusually, seems disposed to chat.

‘I heard you talking about the Gaywood case,’ she says. ‘That’s quite near me.’