The Things You Didn't See(33)
‘The farm isn’t his though,’ Holly said slowly, sipping her drink so Godwin couldn’t see just how much she needed to say this. ‘It’s Maya’s. I heard that on Friday she’d decided to sell.’
Philip’s eyes darkened and he webbed his hands together in a gesture that looked as though he was planning something clever. ‘The thing with women wanting equal rights over property and wages when they’re married to the breadwinner, is that it cuts both ways. Hector has rights, even if his name isn’t on the deed. He’s married to Maya, and he works the land. We’ve instructed a solicitor to clarify the legalities, given she wasn’t of sound mind, and to challenge any contract she might have signed.’
‘You’ve done this since Friday,’ Holly asked, ‘even though Maya’s in a coma?’
Philip’s head moved to one side, as if quizzical. ‘Of course, that’s unfortunate, but the big picture is the land. Individual feelings are really neither here nor there to me.’ His voice gained resonance, bouncing around the tiny flat like he was speaking to a class, spinning Holly back so she felt like a ten-year-old again. He was the teacher with all the answers, and she had a question. ‘Did Maya not seem of sound mind then, when you saw her on Friday?’
Philip sighed now, lifting his laced hands behind his head, affecting weariness. ‘Well, she’s always been an odd creature, rather rude I always thought. Traditionally after a shoot one eats at the host’s table, but Maya made us eat in the barn. The housekeeper had put on a good enough spread, a sort of afternoon tea, but the environment was hardly conducive for a pleasant meal. Cassandra had arrived, and my impression was that there was some trouble. Maya declared the house was out of bounds. We ended up sitting on hay bales, with plates on our knees. Most embarrassing, especially given Dave Feakes from the Port Authority was our guest. And then Maya topped it all by declaring she’d sell to him, and with Alfie Avon listening. It was complete sabotage!’
‘But did she seem suicidal?’ Holly asked, irritated by his condescending tone, his lack of compassion.
‘Not at all!’ he said, his small sharp teeth showing. Jet, as if sensing the change in atmosphere, gave a yelp and moved behind the sofa. ‘She seemed to me like a woman very much determined to live as she saw fit, and the rest of us could go to hell.’
Holly left the Headmaster’s Residence with the spaniel and a strong sense of Godwin’s anger at Maya. There was no question that all he cared about was the land, and it gave him a motive for wanting her dead.
16
Cassandra
I’m glad to see Holly, and she’s got Jet, which means Godwin has no further reason to call on us. But the dog’s full of energy. I can tell Godwin hasn’t walked him today, though he promised he would.
‘Shall we take him out?’ Holly says, as the spaniel jumps up at me, then her. ‘A walk might do you good. Plus, I want to talk to you about what he said.’
I’m glad of the suggestion. Glad of her company. Glad that I’m not alone in trying to find out who shot you.
And it is good to get out of the house, out of the smoky kitchen and away from the dark thoughts about why Daniel is lying to me. Why everyone wants me to think you shot yourself. Why no one, except Holly and me, is prepared to see the truth. I need fresh air to snap me out of it so I can think clearly. I pull on my winter coat and shout into the empty hall that I’m going out, but no one answers. Dad is either still asleep in the spare room or unwilling to come out. Cold air catches in my throat and I see from the low sun that it’s going to be a gloomy day. We pass houses and cars I know so well, though I feel lost.
Jet pushes through my legs to sniff the ground with his black snout, yanks on his lead. He doesn’t know this area. He’s an energetic spaniel used to roaming free through farmland and I let him pull me to the end of the road, Holly by my side, the two of us breathing in the November air. Jet finds a long stick that drags on the ground, and he dances at my feet, twisting around his lead, barking at me to throw it. I free him, throw the stick into scrubland and he barks madly when the hedge stops him getting at it.
‘Cass, you’re not alone in thinking Maya didn’t shoot herself. Godwin agrees that she wasn’t depressed on Friday.’
How ironic, that the only other supporter for my theory should be him.
‘But he’s angry with your mum for agreeing to sell the farm. He’s seeking legal advice, to see if her decision to sell can be challenged. It’s also clear that there’s no love lost between him and your mum.’
This makes me feel sick. ‘You think he could have shot her?’ I ask.
Holly pauses, then sighs. ‘I think he’s a very unpleasant man, but to shoot a woman in cold blood would take someone evil, wouldn’t it? I wouldn’t rule him out, but I don’t think him having a motive and being a horrible person makes him a potential killer. We should consider other people. Who do you think it might be?’
I shake my head – the task seems too huge to contemplate. There is a name that springs to mind, but I can’t say it aloud: Ash. I touch my collarbone, feeling the old scar, wondering if I really am sick or if I’m the only one thinking clearly. Holly doesn’t push me, but each time she looks my way I feel she understands. For now, that’s enough. We walk side by side in silence, but this respite can’t last. We’ll be back at my house and the reality of what has happened will once again take over everything.