Stone Cold Red Hot - страница 8

“Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee?”

“Coffee please, no sugar.”

She was a large-boned woman, in her fifties at a guess with grey shoulder length hair, a sallow complexion and chunky black-framed glasses. She wore dark slacks and a baggy woollen sweater, bottle green with flecks of colour in it, sprinkled with dog hairs.

From the chair I could see the garden, long and wide with a couple of apple trees at one side and a wall at the end. Flower borders ran the length of the lawn which had a wavy path down its centre. Two honey coloured Labradors were sniffing around the lawn and occasionally diving onto each other. An old larch-lap fence divided the garden from its neighbours on either side. I stood up to see what was visible of the Pickering’s garden to the left. I could make out the roof of a garden shed and a circular clothes dryer, the tips of a row of conifers at the far side, nothing more.

Mrs Clerkenwell returned with mugs of coffee.

“Roger has explained to you why I’m here? That he’s asked me to trace his sister, Jennifer?”

“Yes. Though I’m not sure what help I’ll be. I’ve often wondered what became of her.”

“What was she like?” I asked.

“Very lively, high spirits. Obviously got on well at school. Very bright, on the ball. She and Roger used to walk the dogs, he was not much more than a toddler when they first started. They’d take them down to the recreation ground or up to the park. Along the river sometimes. Once or twice she came along with me to a craft fair, I run a stall on a regular basis. She was a nice girl, I liked her.”

“And then she left home?”

“Yes, Keele wasn’t it? English degree. Couldn’t wait to get there. It was that terrifically hot summer, the drought. ‘76. You remember?”

I nodded. “And after that?”

“I never heard from her. Not that I expected to. I was only the next-door neighbour,” she laughed.

“Did you know that she’d not kept in touch with her family?”

“Not for some time, no. I think it was that Christmas, I saw Barbara and I asked her about Jennifer; how was she getting on, when would she be back – that sort of thing. She was quite abrupt. Told me that Jennifer had dropped out of university and that they’d no idea when they would hear from her again. I was surprised, I must admit. I never thought Jennifer would have given up her studies like that. Perhaps the course wasn’t what she’d expected. Anyway, Barbara obviously didn’t want to talk about it and we were never very chummy so that was it.” She wrinkled her nose and the heavy glasses bobbed up and down.

I took a swig of my coffee, it was cool enough to swallow.

“When Frank died I thought Jennifer might be back for the funeral but she wasn’t. It’s not the sort of thing you can ask about really, though people noticed. So, I knew she’d not been back to visit but I hadn’t realised that there had been no word at all until Roger called the other day.”

Mrs Clerkenwell had made no mention of a possible pregnancy, presumably Barbara Pickering had not referred to the disgrace her daughter had brought on the family as she had when talking to her son.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit extreme,” I asked her, “to sever all contact, just because she dropped out of university?”

“Well, yes,” she said hesitantly, “but then Barbara gave me the impression that it was Jennifer’s doing.” She frowned and thought for a minute. “Mind you, I don’t know what sort of reception she’d have got if she had come back and wasn’t making anything of her life.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, they were awfully strict. Some of it was to do with all their rules, from their church, the do’s and don’ts. They wouldn’t touch a drink and everything was either approved or denied. I could see Jennifer was rejecting all that even before she left home. They were very…intolerant I thought. We had a bit of a run-in years back. I was trying to organise some ecumenical services, different churches coming together and I knew Barbara and Frank were ‘Children of Christ’ but they were impossible; they’d no interest in building bridges, you’d have thought I’d made an improper suggestion the way they reacted. He started going on about undesirables and riff-raff and how could they vet the people involved.” She laughed. “I don’t know. I never knew them well but it didn’t strike me as a very happy household.”