Unforgettable (Gloria Cook) - By Gloria Cook Page 0,102

extreme measures for Esther or Honoria or both of them to take (if they really had) over a case of domestic violence? Esther had been a widow when she married Sedgewick Mitchelmore, all decent and above board; no bigamy. It would be painful but not crushingly humiliating to become known as a battered wife. But Esther had suffered an even more painful event. One of the most excruciatingly painful things to happen to a woman, Dorrie knew, was to lose her child. Esther’s husband had viciously beaten her child out of her body. She might have been able to live with her husband beating her but perhaps not with him being responsible for the death of her child. Could Esther have wanted revenge? It was understandable. Could she have killed Chester by design or perhaps unintentionally in heartbreak or temper? Had Chester really died in a motorbike crash? Had the crash been faked? Dorrie would never know for certain; she had no intention of looking into the man’s death. She might have been silly in believing Esther was really a man, but she felt it was not fanciful to wonder if the facts pointed to Neville Stevens, a sneak thief, discovering some sort of evidence that Esther had murdered Chester. That he had told his lover Mary Rawling, that together they had made a blackmail bid, all leading to Honoria, through her dubious connections, to hire a professional assassin. It seemed a likely explanation to Dorrie for the manner of the couple’s deaths, rather than them falling foul of a black-market gang.

Now it seemed to Dorrie that the sisters had been concocting a story to enable them to slip away from the village, probably by Esther declaring she would spend a healing winter abroad with Honoria, and neither would come back. By the time Camilla came down for the wedding the lady of Petherton would not be important enough for Camilla to seek gossip about. The reporter for the national newspaper had shunted the sisters’ plans urgently forward, in a different direction.

Dorrie expected she would hear from Honoria quite soon but she doubted (and hoped, of course, not wanting Esther to be really ill) that Esther would have gone anywhere near Harley Street.

Thirty-Four

Tilly ran into Dorrie’s open arms and sobbed on her shoulder. ‘Thank you so much for coming, Mrs Resterick. Finn and I are struggling to leave Petherton. We can’t believe Mrs Mitchelmore’s got cancer, that she’s never coming back.’

‘I know, dear, I find it hard to believe too.’ Dorrie stroked Tilly’s soft hair where it hung below her little felt hat. She smiled at Finn, standing on the gravelled path, holding Tilly’s small brown suitcase and few bags of belongings, while clearing his throat and wiping a tear from his eye.

Taking a mighty swallow he came towards them. ‘I was really fond of her. She was always very good to me. Mrs R, do you know how long she’s got? I’ve heard Mrs Sanders is taking her to Switzerland. Do you think the doctors there will know some sort of advanced treatment that will give her more time?’

‘We can hope and pray, Finn, but Mrs Sanders says Mrs Mitchelmore is being very brave and doesn’t want anyone to worry about her. Whatever happens she will be well looked after. Verity will be along soon in Jack’s five-seater to take you and me to Meadows House, Tilly. You’ll have a good position there.’

‘It will be lovely working with Cathy. Mrs Mitchelmore has generously paid me two months wages, and Mr Jack said I don’t have to start work straightaway, but I’d rather get stuck in, don’t like being idle and there’s lots of work going on in the house. Mrs Mitchelmore is such a kind lady, she’s given Mrs Teague and Ellery enough to retire on early and they’re going to share a cottage.’ Tilly moved a few steps away and stared at the shabby old house. ‘I wonder what will happen to this place now.’

‘I guess it will have a new owner eventually,’ Finn sighed.

‘But it won’t be the same, and Nanviscoe won’t be the same without Mrs Mitchelmore running the place so well.’ Dorrie summed up the feelings of the three.

‘Will you step up to the mark, Mrs R?’ Finn asked.

‘Oh, most definitely not, organizing and planning isn’t for me. I’d rather be available for others, if you know what I mean.’

‘Definitely do,’ Finn told her affectionately. ‘Hate to think how Mum and I and Eloise would