Tuesday.’
‘That’s right. I’m writing his obituary. I wasn’t aware Tina had modelled.’
‘She was one of the top girls of her day. On the cover of Vogue and in high demand.’
‘She could still model, she looks terrific.’
Jenny nodded. ‘I was in the charity shop when her husband’s funeral cortège went by and I saw her. You’d never think she’s almost sixty.’
‘That old?’ I protested.
‘We’re not exactly light years away from the big Six-O ourselves,’ Jenny said wryly, and poured cups of coffee. ‘Do you ever look at a picture of someone in the paper and think ‘grief, they’re ancient’, then discover you’re older than they are?’
‘Often.’
‘Me, too. There’s a theory that, as the decades progress, we all start to think we’re fifteen years less than our actual age, and I reckon it’s true. I find it hard to believe I’m in my fifties.’
‘Yes, fifties means staid and clapped-out and sexless, until you hit them yourself. Then –’ I shimmied my hips ‘– you realise fifties are vibrant with a capital V. How do you know how old Tina Kincaid is?’
‘Because I remember reading about her being five years younger than Joe Fernandez and he’s sixty-four. He was on television the other night, joking about the relevance of the Beatles’ song. At one time there were rumours about him and Tina Kincaid – Tina Sinclair, as was – getting married.’
‘I thought he already was married?’
‘He is, but it seems that when she joined his programme they began an affair. She’d recently been divorced from a husband who dealt in rare books, he was a highfalutin type, and Joe –’ Jenny indicated quotation marks ‘– ‘helped her to recover’.’
‘I never knew that,’ I said, though the comedian’s appearance at the wake took on a different slant.
‘They didn’t advertise their affair, but it lasted a good number of years and then, suddenly, it was over. His wife suffered from an illness, ME or MS or something, can’t remember, and the tale was that when it came to the crunch Joe couldn’t bring himself to desert her.’
‘Or didn’t fancy the bad publicity that deserting an ill wife might bring.’
‘Could be.’
‘Then Tina chanced across Duncan Kincaid and – hey presto!’
‘But was it by chance?’ Jenny said. ‘Or had she heard he had plenty of cash, knew he was a widower and recognised an opportunity? Seems she’d been living in Dursleigh for a while before they met, so –’
‘She had?’ I consider I’m well informed about the village, but I wasn’t aware Tina had resided locally prior to her marriage. Nor that Duncan Kincaid was her second husband. ‘How do you know all this?’
‘Eileen, who works in the charity shop, told me. Eileen never stops talking. If she’s not describing her and her husband’s latest health scare – she’s forever at the doctor’s with some complaint or other, while he, poor soul, suffers from erectile dysfunction –’
‘That must’ve been some description!’
Jenny grimaced. ‘It was – she’s recycling local gossip. She reckons there’s something iffy about Tina Kincaid’s background.’
‘Iffy?’
‘Eileen’s convinced she has something to hide. Seems that when Tina and Duncan got married no one from her family attended and there’s not been sight nor sound of a relative ever since.’
I recalled Giles Kincaid’s ‘white trash’ remark. ‘Eileen thinks Tina could’ve banished her family from the scene because they’re down-market?’
‘Down-market or they’re all mass murderers or nudists, she hasn’t a clue. She’s just a busybody who loves to create tittle-tattle.’
‘Tina told me her father died when she was little and her mother isn’t around now, either. And if she was an only child –’ I moved my shoulders.
‘It must be sad to grow up without a dad and I can’t imagine not having any family. True, my parents and sisters are up north, but we’re
‘That’s right. I’m writing his obituary. I wasn’t aware Tina had modelled.’
‘She was one of the top girls of her day. On the cover of Vogue and in high demand.’
‘She could still model, she looks terrific.’
Jenny nodded. ‘I was in the charity shop when her husband’s funeral cortège went by and I saw her. You’d never think she’s almost sixty.’
‘That old?’ I protested.
‘We’re not exactly light years away from the big Six-O ourselves,’ Jenny said wryly, and poured cups of coffee. ‘Do you ever look at a picture of someone in the paper and think ‘grief, they’re ancient’, then discover you’re older than they are?’
‘Often.’
‘Me, too. There’s a theory that, as the decades progress, we all start to think we’re fifteen years less than our actual age, and I reckon it’s true. I find it hard to believe I’m in my fifties.’
‘Yes, fifties means staid and clapped-out and sexless, until you hit them yourself. Then –’ I shimmied my hips ‘– you realise fifties are vibrant with a capital V. How do you know how old Tina Kincaid is?’
‘Because I remember reading about her being five years younger than Joe Fernandez and he’s sixty-four. He was on television the other night, joking about the relevance of the Beatles’ song. At one time there were rumours about him and Tina Kincaid – Tina Sinclair, as was – getting married.’
‘I thought he already was married?’
‘He is, but it seems that when she joined his programme they began an affair. She’d recently been divorced from a husband who dealt in rare books, he was a highfalutin type, and Joe –’ Jenny indicated quotation marks ‘– ‘helped her to recover’.’
‘I never knew that,’ I said, though the comedian’s appearance at the wake took on a different slant.
‘They didn’t advertise their affair, but it lasted a good number of years and then, suddenly, it was over. His wife suffered from an illness, ME or MS or something, can’t remember, and the tale was that when it came to the crunch Joe couldn’t bring himself to desert her.’
‘Or didn’t fancy the bad publicity that deserting an ill wife might bring.’
‘Could be.’
‘Then Tina chanced across Duncan Kincaid and – hey presto!’
‘But was it by chance?’ Jenny said. ‘Or had she heard he had plenty of cash, knew he was a widower and recognised an opportunity? Seems she’d been living in Dursleigh for a while before they met, so –’
‘She had?’ I consider I’m well informed about the village, but I wasn’t aware Tina had resided locally prior to her marriage. Nor that Duncan Kincaid was her second husband. ‘How do you know all this?’
‘Eileen, who works in the charity shop, told me. Eileen never stops talking. If she’s not describing her and her husband’s latest health scare – she’s forever at the doctor’s with some complaint or other, while he, poor soul, suffers from erectile dysfunction –’
‘That must’ve been some description!’
Jenny grimaced. ‘It was – she’s recycling local gossip. She reckons there’s something iffy about Tina Kincaid’s background.’
‘Iffy?’
‘Eileen’s convinced she has something to hide. Seems that when Tina and Duncan got married no one from her family attended and there’s not been sight nor sound of a relative ever since.’
I recalled Giles Kincaid’s ‘white trash’ remark. ‘Eileen thinks Tina could’ve banished her family from the scene because they’re down-market?’
‘Down-market or they’re all mass murderers or nudists, she hasn’t a clue. She’s just a busybody who loves to create tittle-tattle.’
‘Tina told me her father died when she was little and her mother isn’t around now, either. And if she was an only child –’ I moved my shoulders.
‘It must be sad to grow up without a dad and I can’t imagine not having any family. True, my parents and sisters are up north, but we’re
Similar Books
