The Long Call (Two Rivers #1) - Ann Cleeves Page 0,11
in that sort of thing. No sex before marriage. They’re Christians of the happy-clappy arm-waving variety.’
‘Any male lodgers?’
There was a pause before she answered. ‘Simon Walden. He’s been here since October. Caz brought him in. He’s one of her lost sheep.’
Jen thought that might be important; she’d come back to it. ‘Could you describe Mr Walden?’
‘He’s a bit older than us. Pushing forty. We’re planning a party for him in a few weeks’ time. If he decides to behave himself.’
Jen was intrigued, but again refused to allow herself to be distracted. ‘Weight? Height? Any distinguishing marks?’
‘A bit taller than him.’ Gaby nodded towards Ross. ‘But about the same build. He has the tattoo of a bird on his neck. An albatross. He says he carried guilt round with him like the Ancient Mariner, so he had the tat done to remind him.’
Now Jen allowed herself to be distracted. ‘Do you know what he meant by that?’
Gaby shook her head. ‘After a few drinks he can get like that. Maudlin. Or angry.’
‘But you let him stay?’ This was Ross. He lived with his perfect wife in a tidy little house on an estate on the edge of Barnstaple. He must be hating this place, the muck and the clutter. He certainly wouldn’t share his home with strangers.
Gaby shrugged. ‘He doesn’t often lose it. Caz can manage him. Besides, he cooks like a dream.’ She stopped speaking and stared at them. ‘Are you telling me Simon’s dead?’
‘We don’t know yet. It’s possible.’
Gaby turned away from them. Jen thought she might be crying but when she looked back, she was quite composed and when she spoke her tone was still light, brittle. ‘Shit, if he’s dead, there’ll be no more amazing Friday night feasts.’
‘Have you got a photo?’
‘Just a minute. We took a joint selfie a couple of weeks ago. I put it on Facebook, but I’ll still have it on my phone.’ Gaby flicked through her phone and then passed it across to Jen. There were three faces crammed into the image. Two women – Gaby and a short, round woman with big specs – then in the centre of the picture a man. Simon Walden. The body on the beach. In the photo his head was turned slightly and Jen could see the tattoo.
‘I’m afraid that’s him,’ Jen said. She passed the phone to Ross, so he could see for himself that they had an ID for their victim.
‘Did he kill himself?’ Still the tough, flip shell didn’t crack.
‘Why? Would that surprise you? Had he talked about suicide?’
‘He had really dark moods sometimes. That’s how Caz met him. She works for a mental health charity. And she’s too bloody soft for her own good.’
‘Is this Caroline?’ Jen took the phone back from Ross and pointed to the short woman with the glasses.
‘Yeah, that’s her. My landlady. My mate now too. We’re as different from each other as chalk and cheese, but I love her to bits. I’m not sure she can quite cope with the chaos I’ve brought into her house…’ She waved her arm at the recycled furniture and art. ‘She knows she’d be bored without me, though. And it’s a bit cheerier than the place where she works: an ancient church hall filled with suicidal addicts and depressives.’
‘What about you?’ Jen asked. ‘What do you do?’
‘I’m the artist in residence at the Woodyard. I help horrible adolescents with behavioural problems to find themselves through art. And teach bored middle-aged women who want to dabble in watercolour. They got funding for me for three years.’ She looked at Jen to check that she didn’t have to explain the Woodyard Centre. Jen nodded to show she recognized the name. ‘That’s the day job. But mostly I paint. Painting’s my true love. I went to art college when I left school and the Woodyard gives me my own studio space.’
‘You must be very talented.’ Jen sensed a slight sneer in her own voice. Jealousy perhaps. She’d have loved to be able to paint. ‘How do you and Caroline know each other?’
‘Through her father, Christopher. He’s on the board of the Woodyard and he was one of the people who interviewed me for the residency. I’m not local and when they appointed me, I needed somewhere to live. He put me in touch with Caz, who’d just bought this place and was looking for someone to share. Then Simon came along.’ There was a sudden edge to her voice.