‘That’s horrible.’ Rory was shocked. ‘I didn’t take to the vicar but that’s an awful thing to happen. What about him? You said people sympathized with him, and you can see why; do they like him, though?’
Harriet considered the question. ‘It’s early days yet,’ she said slowly. ‘Our old vicar was extremely popular and died in harness so it would be tricky at first for anyone new to come here, big shoes to fill, kind of thing. John Forrester had only been in situ for a couple of months before the tragedy struck so in a sense he’s not had time to establish himself in the normal way. He’s devastatingly attractive, of course, even though he’s not strictly handsome, and a lot of the females in the parish are rather taken with him.’ She grinned, looking slightly sheepish. ‘I can understand that; he’s very charming and he looks fabulous in his vestments. His sermons are well thought out, not too long but not skimped. He’s good at the pastoral side and the committees he’s inevitably on are pleased to find he’s firm and decisive, while managing to be tactful at the same time, and that’s quite a rare skill.’
‘You don’t like him,’ Rory accused her. ‘Never mind how attractive and charming he is, or how well he does his job, you still don’t like him.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she argued but shrugged as he looked sceptical. ‘Oh all right, but this is strictly entre nous. He’s everything I said, and more, but I somehow feel, whatever he does and says, that he’s acting a part. I can’t put it more directly than that and it’s not a crime. It may simply be that he finds that the way to cope with his wife’s death. Or it might just be that he’s an actor, as many clergy are at heart, politicians too; there’s certainly a kind of glamour about him and people who are born like that can’t help putting on a performance. It’s so instinctive to them that they don’t realize they’re doing it.’
‘I feel pretty confused, you know.’ Rory sipped his third cup of coffee. ‘All this talk of mysteries and missing people may be moonshine, but you can’t get away from the fact that Mr Attlin was hit by a car. And you’re adamant that he wouldn’t have imagined that?’ She nodded and Rory carried on. ‘Plus there’s the metal-detector guys last night. They were definitely there and up to something, but whether they’re part of the other weird stuff happening round here, or just a coincidence, is beyond me.’
‘Edith says John Forrester wasn’t the only one making up to her yesterday,’ Harriet said, watching him closely. ‘I noticed it myself. Brendan was hovering round her, but that’s nothing new. He was around at Christmas when she was home and I think she did go out for a drink with him, but nothing else happened, she says. What was odd, though, was that Gordon Dean was being very free with his compliments and that’s not like him; his tastes usually run to older, more sophisticated women. And of course the Texan chap, Mike Goldstein, he was buzzing round her too.’ She gave him a direct, blue-eyed glance. ‘Come to think of it, what do you think of Edith?’
He coloured slightly, the flush bright against the sallow, fading tan. ‘I like her,’ he said frankly, ‘but she holds back. We’ll be talking and laughing and getting on fine, really friendly, maybe something a bit more, and then she’ll suddenly stop and look upset. I don’t know what it is, whether I’ve annoyed her, though I don’t think it’s that. She was okay before we went to that party but since then she’s been really odd.’
‘She hasn’t mentioned anything to me,’ Harriet said, frowning as she thought back to her conversation with Edith. ‘I wouldn’t worry too much. She’s a very straightforward kind of girl so if there’s something about you that’s bothering her, you’ll find out sooner or later. And it can’t be anything too serious or she’d have had you booted out of the house by now, make no mistake.’
At 7.30 that evening Edith was peering surreptitiously out of a window in the hall, watching the drive, when Rory’s footsteps behind her made her jump.
‘Blimey,’ he exclaimed. ‘What’s the matter with you? You jumped right out of your skin.’
‘I wasn’t expecting you to be creeping around.’ She was flustered and glared at him. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Rory.’ She held out an olive branch. ‘It’s all this cloak-and-dagger stuff getting on my nerves, treasure hunters and Grandpa’s accident and Harriet suddenly turning into the local wise woman who’s seen something nasty in the woodshed.’