The Seven Letters Read online

  ‘Freddy’s family, they sound a right bunch.’

  ‘I know, but I’m hoping they’ll fill in the gaps. Freddy’s been intriguing me. Hat told me that the remaining members of his family live in the almshouses of a big estate, and then there’s someone called Daniel who lives in France. There’s two cousins and an ancient aunt in Ledbury.’

  ‘Not close enough to come and help with the house then?’ asked Matt.

  ‘No, the aunt is very frail and the cousins have an illness, that’s all I know.’

  He pulled out a map book and traced a finger across to Ledbury.

  ‘Well, they are here.’ He tapped the map with his index finger. ‘About fifteen minutes out of Ledbury. What do you say we have lunch in town and go there for two?’

  The Cotswolds gave way to open, green fields and cattle grazing. The turned earth was terracotta and red brick farms were dotted along the route. The journey was straightforward and the weather beautiful.

  Bruno was a tall man, his skin was nut-brown and the teeth in his broad grin looked whiter for it. He took Matt’s hand and gave him a hearty handshake. I was kissed on the hand and we were shown to our seats in the little garden under a broad pergola. When Bruno returned with the menus he spoke in French with Matt.

  ‘Been here a lot, then?’ I asked after Bruno went. I had felt a bit left out.

  ‘I have, actually. I work a lot with Bruno’s PR man, James. He helps French people who want to set up in England. To be honest, I think he’d be better off doing it the other way round, more English people going to start businesses in France and all that, but he makes a good income. He and I both speak the lingo, so it’s a good fit.’

  I perused the menu. Running across the top was a beautiful fisheye lens photo of the restaurant’s interior and, at the bottom, another one, a white fish and fresh samphire on a blue plate, crusty bread in a basket and a glass of white wine.

  ‘Did you do these pics?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘They are really lovely.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  “But…’

  ‘There’s always a but, isn’t there?’ he said, winking.

  ‘I was going to say that the layout and type are a bit hit and miss.’

  ‘I know, that is the downside. James’ daughter does it, two years at Art College, now a hairdresser, so she’s supremely well-qualified.’

  ‘Will you tell him about me?’

  ‘Of course, he does need to re-think that side of his business. Send me some samples of your work and a CV. I’ll put a good word in for you.’

  ‘So, what slow food are you having today, Popeye?’

  Lunch was superb. Matt was telling me about his life. I told him more about me and I can honestly say I loved being with him. He was kind, generous and thoughtful and so different from my ex. I couldn’t imagine him ever hurting me. We left for the almshouses at two, with a quick stop off at the chocolate shop before we reached the car.

  The road snaked out of the town and passed through pretty villages and hamlets, the countryside more and more expansive as we travelled on. The Malverns appeared on the right and fell away again as we turned left into a small village hidden in a dip in the valley. The church was on a bright triangle of green, with sheep-nibbled turf around it. Behind was an arc of cottages and a large manor house, three storeys high. The house was overlooking a wide expanse of moor and a couple of sheep, with lambs grazing around the gate. I parked the car and we stepped out on the green.

  Matt was so impressed, he whistled. ‘What a place, photo opp or what? Look at the light over there.’ There was a deep, hyacinth blue sky with dark clouds tearing across it and below it a slash of emerald green pasture.

  ‘Looks like rain,’ I said, just as the sun broke through the cloud and beamed on the moor; it was changing by the second. ‘Or, maybe not!’

  ‘So where are the almshouses?’

  ‘Those?’ I pointed towards the crescent of thatched cottages.

  ‘No, look, next to the big house there’s a sign.’

  It was an old metal road sign painted black with white type on it, most of it scratched away. The words “Alms Cottages,” were still visible, but barely legible. The small houses were hidden behind some oak trees a hundred yards along an unadopted lane. As we walked towards them, Matt whispered out of the corner of his mouth; ‘Spookier and spookier, Scooby.’

  There were four, all identical. The wooden frames of the leaded windows were covered in layers of thick red gloss and the arched doors were heavy, studded wood. We rang the doorbell of number two where the cousins lived. The bell was a long piece of metal that I pulled downwards with some effort and was rewarded with a solitary clang. After a long pause there was the sound of an inner door opening and then the front door was being unlocked. There were at least three bolts, if not four, barring our way. Matt raised an eyebrow and I had to stop myself laughing.

  The face that greeted us was that of a very thin woman with pale blonde hair, a white face and blue veined hands.

  ‘Hello, I’m Connie Webber,’ I said. The woman merely stared at me without acknowledgement. I wondered if she’d heard me at all. ‘And this is my friend, Matt Verney.’ Still there was no reply, her face was blank. ‘Harriet phoned to say we were bringing over your cousin Freddy’s things.’ There was another pause.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ she said at last. ‘Do come in, I am Merioneth.’ She had a soft, barely perceptible voice. We stepped over the threshold and then into the tiny lounge. It was very simply furnished with a two-seater sofa, an armchair and a dresser. Through the door I could see an equally spartan kitchen with a small fold down table, two chairs and an original Butler sink.

  ‘I will fetch my sister,’ Merioneth said quietly and with that she went into the kitchen and turned sharp right. I could hear the trace of her tread on the stairs, but only just.

  ‘I think she may be a ghost.’ Matt’s whisper was so loud, it sounded as though he were performing on stage.

  ‘Sssh.’ I nudged him.

  He whispered again, but lower: ‘We won’t be able to tell when she’s coming back.’ I glanced around, something about the house was making me nervous, it felt strange, unsettling.

  The sisters appeared together, one with her hair loose and down her back, the other, Merioneth, had hers drawn neatly up behind her head. Other than that they were identical. They both wore pale green Laura Ashley dresses, thick flesh coloured tights that bunched around their thin ankles and flat, black lace-up shoes.

  ‘I am Aeronwen,’ said the second twin, extending a white hand. It was icy cold. At that moment I realised that except for the fireplace, which was empty and swept clean, there was no other form of heating. The place felt damp and cold as if it was never properly warmed.

  ‘Can we get you something to drink?’ asked Merioneth.

  ‘Tea, please.’ I said, and glanced across at Matt who nodded his agreement. Merioneth sloped off to the kitchen, feet dragging on the floor like a very old lady. I tried to guess their age, they looked like relics from the thirties.

  ‘We don’t have a lot of visitors,’ explained Aeronwen. ‘We both have M.E. you see and tire very easily.’ She rubbed the back of her hand, her fingers travelling over thin, blue-veined skin. ‘I’m afraid my sister and I have become quite reclusive, but we’ve always enjoyed each other’s company.’

  I felt sorry for them. Where were the books, the magazines, television? The things to do? There wasn’t so much as a jigsaw puzzle.

  ‘We are Plymouth Brethren,’ she said as if she was reading my mind. ‘We read nothing but the word of the Lord.’ She indicated to the other window behind us. Once we had turned round we could see the large leather bound Bible on a lectern.

  Matt’s eyes bulged when I caught sight of him, he was manfully forcing back the desir
e to laugh.

  ‘I see,’ was all I could say. I waited for Matt to tell them he was of Puritan stock himself, but he wasn’t going there. Merioneth arrived with a wooden tray, the sort you use in cafeterias, and a plain, brown teapot. The cups were white Pyrex decorated with little red flowers, of the sort I haven’t seen since my childhood in the seventies.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, as she placed everything on a low side table and handed us our drinks. ‘We’ve brought two boxes of Freddy’s things with us.’

  ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘Scripts, photographs.’ My heart skipped a beat when I thought of all the pictures of nude women we had on board. ‘There are some posters, books, bills, theatre memorabilia mainly, and stuff like that.’

  ‘I hardly think that sort of thing would be of interest to us,’ said Aeronwen, recoiling as if we were sent from the devil himself. ‘With all due respect, and thank you very much, I think they would be best delivered to number four.’

  ‘Number four is?’

  ‘Our Aunt Alberta and her housekeeper, she is the one who is more likely to want such things. She knew Freddy very well, more so than us.’

  I tried to imagine the Freddy I knew in the same room as these two women. He used to belch when he was drinking and tell saucy jokes and say ‘up your Aunt Fanny,’ as he swallowed back a slug of whisky making his eyes go wild and his voice hoarse. He was a reprobate, there was no mistaking that.

  Was a reprobate I thought, was. ‘We’ll drop them there, then,’ I said. ‘But, I wonder, are you able to help me with a few questions about Freddy?’

  ‘Well, we’ll try…’ said Merioneth without any conviction.

  ‘We found a picture, it’s in the car, of Marlene Dietrich?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The Hollywood film star, nineteen forties?’

  They shook their heads, looking mutually blank.

  ‘Anyway, on it she’s written something about Freddy and her both being German; it’s written to Freddy, in German.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Are you aware that he was German?’

  ‘Certainly not, that is not possible, he was British as you or I,’ said Aeronwen. She was obviously the more forceful of the twins. ‘But you see, we didn’t know him as a young man. We were born when he was twenty or so –’

  ‘Twenty one, in fact,’ said Merioneth thoughtfully. ‘We were born the very year he was twenty one.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ I said flatly. ‘So you knew him as he became a playwright, really?’

  ‘Yes, but we only knew of him, really, you see we would never be involved in any of that, because…’ Merioneth drifted off again, not completing the sentence.

  ‘I see,’ I said once more, not sure of where to go next.

  ‘What did you know of him?’ asked Matt, taking up the baton.

  ‘Well, he was very funny and, of course, famous. Our Uncle Elwyn adored him, and the two of them – he and his wife – followed him everywhere. They were very proud, you see.’

  ‘Yes, I can imagine, what parents aren’t?’ There was a moment of silence.

  ‘Oh, no, no, not parents, they were his guardians.’

  ‘Oh, yes of course, his mother wasn’t married.’

  The two ladies looked at each other disdainfully. ‘Well, naturally, we don’t like to talk about all that, I’m sure you understand. We can, however, vouch for the fact that he was most happy with our Uncle Elwyn and Aunt Catherine. They gave him everything a boy could wish for, including a fabulous education, albeit High Church.’ Aeronwen exchanged a look of disapproval with her sister. ‘The two brothers, our father and our uncle, were chalk and cheese religiously, but as brothers –’

  ‘As brothers they were very close indeed,’ Merioneth said softly.

  ‘Oh yes, they were,’ Aeronwen agreed.

  ‘Do you know anything about Freddy’s mother, anything at all?’

  ‘No, nothing, except that our father was very upset that Uncle Elwyn took her under his wing, as you might say. One minute she was working for him, the next he had her son living at his house; obviously people talked.’

  ‘So, she actually worked for him, they weren’t related at all?’ Matt cut in.

  ‘Exactly so, and of course he made Freddy his ward and then he left him all that money, financed his plays and bought him a house.’

  ‘How generous,’ I said. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to receive such unsolicited kindness. I caught Matt’s eye and he raised his eyebrows. ‘What did he do for a living, Elwyn?’

  ‘He was an investor, properties and railways and that sort of thing. He lived here in the mansion and that’s why we’re left behind here in the old almshouses. He bought them for us. You see, our father had no money at all. He was a lay preacher, he didn’t believe in wealth of any kind. He always told us ‘The Lord will provide’ and he was right because He has.’ The thought occurred to me that in fact Uncle Elwyn with his good business head and his sound investments and great kindness had actually provided, but I carried on, regardless.

  ‘Would your aunt be able to tell us more about Freddy?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m sure she will,’ said Aeronwen. She glanced surreptitiously at her sister. ‘But we need to hope it’s one of her lucid days.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Claudette laid out lamb cutlets, sprinkled with mint, each one a mouthful of heaven. She tried as hard as possible not to crave just one bite. There were timbales of potato dauphinoise, little round stacks of layered cream and potato. She breathed in the aroma deeply and let the smell of it settle deep inside her. The smell of Apple tarte Tatin wafted by as Perrine passed her holding the pudding aloft and placed it on the end warmer. She too inhaled the smell.

  ‘What I wouldn’t give to have that sort of dessert every night and not to have cooked it.’ She giggled then, checking herself, added, ‘only I wouldn’t give what they give.’ She had a wicked smile.

  At that precise second the double doors were flung open and a blast of colour and noise entered. There were five women, hair shimmering in the light from the chandeliers. The floor echoed with the clicking of finely pointed stiletto shoes. The smiles and laughter were infectious. It was as if the dreary streets outside had brought in a troupe of goddesses who had lost their way. The clock chimed nine as if in celebration. Claudette stood gazing at them whilst Perrine slipped out of the door.

  ‘I am so hungry I could eat a horse,’ said the tallest one, a platinum blonde. She was wearing a long silk dressing gown in peacock blue. Under it a thin chemise made of the same, and lace-edged panties to match.

  ‘All that work this afternoon,’ laughed another, her bright red hair falling in waves around her head. ‘We should name you Voracious Venus – Freya doesn’t do anything for you.’

  ‘At least mine are one after the other and not at the same time,’ Freya retorted. ‘I have some self-respect.’

  The other three laughed. ‘Double the money, double the fun, eh, Apollonia?’ said one. They poured themselves a glass of wine and clinked glasses.

  ‘Hey, what are you staring at?’

  It was the smallest one, she had dark, almost black, bobbed hair and around her head was a diamante band with a black feather in it. She wore a red and black basque and short black negligee. Claudette froze as she realised they were all looking at her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m new, Cl…Françoise.’ She bit her lip, she had done it again.

  ‘Clançoise. Interesting name.’ A woman entering the room stopped and looked straight at Claudette. She was very tall, helped by her hair braided and wrapped around her head which gave her extra height. A sheer dress clung to her full, round figure and highlighted her broad hips. She loomed over Claudette as she drew close.

  ‘Where are you fr
om?’

  ‘Vacily, it’s–’

  ‘Why are you here?’ The eyes were icy, searching.

  ‘Leave her alone, Bella,’ Lilia had arrived, her eyes heavily made up, her face languid, she was barefoot and wearing a gold and red kimono.

  ‘We’ve met, she’s very sweet. Madame always changes everyone’s names.’ She was slurring. ‘You have no right to interfere.’

  Bella searched Claudette’s eyes again. ‘That true?’ she asked.

  ‘No, my name is Françoise, I’m sorry I was going to say Clarice sent me up here,’ Claudette lied. This was treated with peals of laughter. ‘Clarice, Clarice,’ they mocked her voice.

  ‘That’s Madame F! No one calls the old bird Clarice,’ said Freya, helping herself to the lamb and half a portion of potato.

  ‘I suspect you’re a bit scared of her, are you?’ said Lilia, pouring herself a glass of wine. ‘We all are truly. You come to me if she’s hard on you. I’ll get my attack dog Bella onto her.’

  ‘Bella sneered.adame Odile should inform us if we have a new maid,’ she said, ‘she could be anybody.’

  ‘I am Jacques’ sister,’ Claudette told her.

  ‘Oh, well, why didn’t you say?’ Bella’s face lit up. ‘Why, Jacques is our friend, he runs our errands for us and he looks after us.’ She threw a look at the other ladies, a curl in her lip. ‘Doesn’t he, girls?’

  ‘A bit too much looking,’ said Apollonia. They all laughed again.

  ‘As long as he doesn’t touch us, Pollo, that’s when you have to worry about catching his dandruff!’ Lilia said, giggling.

  ‘Amongst other things,’ Bella added as another peal of laughter ran around the room. With that they sat down to eat, fussing and talking amongst themselves. They ribbed each other and talked about their hair and make-up. They were all fresh and ready for their night’s work. As Claudette went to leave, Bella turned round in her chair and snapped hold of her wrist. ‘I hope we didn’t upset you back then with that little bit of a joke about your brother,’ she said. ‘Only, you didn’t seem to mind too much, I was watching your face.’ Close up she had oval eyes, green like a cat. Her throat was long, ice white.