‘Perfect.’ He frowned. ‘I wish we could have got a sighting of the man himself.’
‘Me too,’ she said, ‘I need to have a picture of him in my head. Still, we have his full address now, which will help us with our background check. I must say, it’s a huge bonus that you know so many people around here.’
‘Well, I am a local, after all.’
‘What are your thoughts on those hostile acts against Emilia?’ Liz asked. ‘Now you’ve had time to consider them. Do you think it could possibly be someone with an ancient grudge against Germans?’
Matt sat down at the kitchen table. ‘I can’t see that being the reason. Sure, there’s probably one or two old-timers who still hark back to the war, but why now? Even before Leonard died, the Swains had been living here for donkey’s years. Why leave it until now to start hounding her?’
Liz helped herself to mustard. ‘That’s just what I’m asking myself too. I mean, the war ended in 1945.’
‘Supposing while I’m doing my “Bob the Builder” bit tomorrow, you have a chat with Emilia?’ Matt said. ‘Maybe she hasn’t told us everything yet. And if you recall, Will thought that maybe something else was bothering her. See what you can find out.’
‘That’s my plan. Leave it to me, boss. Meanwhile, I’m still intrigued about what’s going on in Holland House. I hate to see our Will looking so edgy. It’s not like him at all.’
Matt stopped eating. ‘To me, he looked just like he did after they lost their little girl, and when Kate was undergoing treatment. I don’t ever want to see them going down that route again.’
They ate on in silence.
* * *
Kate had spent the last part of the afternoon up in her studio but came down for a late supper. When that was finished, they went outside to their vantage point in the garden and sat looking across the saltmarsh.
The sky was still a soft blue, dotted here and there with islands of grey and peach. On the horizon a dark band of night cloud moved slowly across the sky, like a flagship heralding the close of day.
‘This is the best time of all,’ whispered Kate, and started to hum a haunting tune. Will recognised it as one he often heard coming from her studio late at night while she worked.
Will put his arm around her and held her tightly. ‘Rather apt, don’t you think?’
‘Mmm?’
In a soft, surprisingly melodious voice he sang the familiar lyrics. They told of two people, comfortable in each other’s company, looking forward to spending the rest of their lives together, no matter what life threw at them. He stopped, unsure of the next words.
Kate took up the song, until he silenced her with a kiss. ‘No more. I seem to think the next bit is sad. Isn’t it about something parting them? That’s never going to happen.’
‘Never,’ she echoed.
As a moving-in present, Matt and Liz had given them a wonderful old watercolour depicting a cottage and a mill at sunset on the edge of the marsh. The title was Dying Light, and it hung in pride of place above the fireplace in the lounge.
Gazing at the evening sky, Will was reminded of the painting. They touched their glasses together.
‘Will?’ Kate asked. ‘Do you really like it here?’
Her question surprised him. ‘Yes, of course I do. Why? Do I give the impression of not liking it?’
‘No,’ she said softly. ‘It’s just that I love it so much I’d hate for us to move on again.’
‘My darling, after all the hard work we’ve been putting in, they’ll have to carry me out in a wooden box before I uproot from here.’
‘Angela worried me rather — all that talk of too much solitude. I hoped that she hadn’t put you off the house.’
Will laughed. ‘Nothing Angela Lazenby could say about it would influence me in the slightest.’
She took his hand. ‘And you don’t miss the force too badly?’
‘You haven’t given me a chance. I work harder now than I ever did at the nick. And it seems you have a lot more in mind.’
Kate was silent for several minutes. ‘I’ll be doing a lot of the work on the interior myself, Will — wallpapering and painting and the like. It has to be . . .’ she seemed to drift off into her own thoughts for a moment, ‘exactly right.’
He held back his quip about her lack of faith in his workmanship and returned to her question about leaving the force. ‘As to my early retirement, no, I really, truly, enjoy spending all my days with the one I love. All those scrotes and drunks . . . I can’t say I miss them at all, thank you.’ He was lying, and she probably knew it, but it sounded as if he meant it. The mention of scrotes brought him round to Gerald Grove. Kate spent hours wandering the sea bank, as did that unsavoury character. ‘Kate? There’s a man who walks the marsh a lot, he’s called Grove. Should you see him, please steer clear. He’s not the nicest man in the world.’
‘Oh, you mean Gerald. He’s no trouble.’
Will took a breath and held it. ‘You know him?’
‘I’ve spoken to him a few times. He’s studying the wildlife in the area, mainly butterflies and insects. He’s quite interesting.’
This didn’t sound anything like the man Emilia had mentioned. She had described him as unbelievably rude, an opinion endorsed by Emilia’s friend in the Post Office. So why was Grove chatting pleasantly with his wife? ‘He really bothers me, sweetheart. I’d appreciate it if you kept your distance.’
Kate pulled a face but promised to give him a wide berth in future, adding that in any case he did smell rather.
Will reminded himself to mention it to Matt and Liz.
* * *
Somewhere around two in the morning, Will awoke to see the dark shadow of his wife slipping silently out of the bedroom. Moments later, he saw the light go on in her studio and heard her sorting through her painting materials.
He was tempted to go in, ask her if she would like a hot drink or something, but fearing her reaction, decided to let her be.
He moved over to her side of the bed and breathed in her special flowery smell. He’d never been able to tell what it was — a mixture of flowers, sea breezes and washing that had been hung out to dry. It was uniquely hers.
He began to drift off to sleep, trying, as he had so many times before, to name the flower that she reminded him of. Lily of the valley? Roses, or sweet peas? Was it lilacs . . . ? He woke up at first light, as Kate slipped in beside him and immediately fell into a deep slumber.
CHAPTER FOUR
On arriving at Holland House, Liz and Matt stood outside for a few moments, taking in the old building and the vista across the fen. Not having been here for a few months, they noticed at once how much work had been done outside. For years during the residence of old lady Holland, the garden, greenhouse and outbuildings had all been neglected. Now Will was doing a heroic job, considering his injuries, in restoring them to their original order.
‘Hey, you two! How are you doing?’ Will hurried out to join them.
Matt noted that Kate wasn’t with him. ‘We’re fine, Will, thank you. Lovely day again.’
‘You’ve done a really good job here,’ said Liz admiringly. ‘I hadn’t realised you had a proper wishing well. It’s beautiful.’