• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

‘That’ll be Bernard,’ the brown-haired woman said, pulling a face. ‘Useless he is, absolutely useless, isn’t he, Jessie?’ She folded her arms, hitching up her bosom as her mouth tightened. ‘It’s because of him that Eddie got out. We were lucky we weren’t all murdered in our beds.’ She raised a knowing eyebrow. ‘That’s probably what happened to Lucy and Hannah and Mrs McMurdo.’

‘And Dave – lovely boy, Dave,’ added Jessie wistfully

‘What?’ asked Ace, wondering whether this Eddie character could be connected with Joyce. ‘Murdered by Eddie?’

‘Oh, no,’ said Jessie, dearly horrified at the thought. ‘Eddie wouldn’t hurt a fly. No, I mean leaving the door open.’

Connie nodded conspiratorially. ‘It’s dreadful, isn’t it?’

‘Is it?’ Ace was starting to get confused about who’d vanished, who’d been murdered and who Eddie was. Where was Miss Marple when you needed her?

Connie nodded again, vigorously. ‘It’s a wicked world out there nowadays. You read about all those terrible things in the papers.’

‘Don’t get us started,’ Jessie said, rolling her eyes and placing a hand on Connie’s arm. ‘Norma’s in the Peonie Room, isn’t she, Connie. Or have they moved her?’

‘She was last time I heard – just along there on your left,’

Connie agreed.

‘Thanks,’ Ace said warily, half expecting the two of them to lunge at her with sharpened crochet hooks. ‘You’ve been really kind.’

She watched Connie and Jessie set off downstairs. Get a move on, she told herself. If those two run into Bernard, he’ll have security after me before I know it. With sudden annoyance, she realised that she hadn’t asked about this Eddie. Maybe she’d catch the two old dears later – if they didn’t disappear in the meantime.

Ace listened at the door for a moment before trying the handle. It would be ironic if Joyce’s mum were the person that the doctor was seeing. She slipped inside.

The curtains were drawn, a shroud of thin daylight cast across the room. Under a flowered bedspread, an elderly woman slept. What now? thought Ace, glancing around the room. Her eyes briefly took in the hairbrush and perfume spray on the dressing table, a framed photo, a glass of water and an alarm dock beside the bed. A chair was pulled up alongside the bed.

Had Joyce been here recently? Ace suddenly realised that she should have asked Connie and Jessie. Another reason to try to find them on her way out.

Ace froze as she heard soft footsteps outside the room. She glanced round – if she were caught, she’d be in deep trouble. As she stared at the door handle, it began to turn.

Chapter Three

The Doctor smiled broadly at Mary as he let himself in through the front door. She was polishing the reception desk, and the rich smell of beeswax filled the air.

‘Back early, Doctor?’ she said, glancing up.

‘A couple of letters to write,’ he said, folding his arms on the desk. ‘I must say, you keep this place beautifully clean and tidy.’

‘Why, thank you, Doctor,’ beamed Mary, breaking off from her polishing for a moment. ‘Did you find Mrs Brunner, then?’

‘Ace, er Dorothy, is asking around in the village.’

‘Well, she’ll have no shortage of people willing to gossip,’

Mary said, a tight-lipped expression of disapproval crossing her face as she returned to her polishing. The sound of the radio, playing something by the Carpenters, drifted along the hall from the kitchen.

‘We’ve only just begun,’ the Doctor murmured to himself with a quiet smile.

‘You like the Carpenters then, do you, Doctor?’ Mary asked.

‘They have their moments – although I’ve had to persuade at least three different alien races not to invade the Earth on the strength of Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft. ’ He tipped his hat to her and trotted up the stairs.

Claudette hurried along the corridor, almost tripping in her haste. She wished she hadn’t agreed to come in on a Saturday, but she had and there was nothing she could do about it. The pile of fluffy towels in her arms tottered and threatened to