about you, Mandy? Have you got a family.’
‘No, I’m on my own now,’ there was regret in her voice. ‘since my daughter started university.’
‘Do you work?’
She nodded. ‘Today’s my day off, but I work at the cottage hospital in Beauchamp.’
‘Are you a doctor, then? Or a nurse?’
Mandy shook her head. ‘No, I’m in admin. You’d be surprised how often I find myself dealing with folk from Woodcombe. From what you were saying, I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw Mrs Tinker there one of these days.’
Alice looked at her watch. It was almost eleven o’clock. She had nothing arranged for the rest of the day, but this did not stop her. She really didn’t feel like spending the morning revealing her personal secrets to the local gossip. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Mandy. I’ve got to rush. I’m meeting somebody in town. Lovely talking to you. Bye.’ And she made her getaway.
On her way back to Woodcombe, she rather regretted not asking if Mandy knew anything about Daniel Tremayne. But on reflection, she knew it had been a wise decision.
Probably just as well
, she said to herself. To somebody with such acute gossip antennae as Mandy, her interest would have immediately been noted, embellished and repeated.
When she got home, she went round to see Mrs Tinker. She found her out of bed, but looking every one of her eighty-seven years. She was wrapped in a blanket, sitting right alongside the Aga, in spite of the spring sunshine outside. Her face was very pale. She gave Alice a weak smile. Danny the dog got up to lick Alice’s hand.
‘Would you like me to make some tea, Mrs Tinker?’
‘That would be nice, dear.’ Alice went over to the sink, washed the dog’s greeting from her hands and made the tea. Over her shoulder she told Mrs Tinker about her coffee companion.
‘Amanda’s the biggest gossip in Woodcombe, maybe the whole of Devon.’ The old lady snorted to herself. ‘And, if she doesn’t know it, she’ll invent it.’
‘I rather got that impression. Mind you, I suppose all villages have got them.’
‘And it’s not as if she’s so perfect either. I bet she didn’t tell you about the skeletons in her cupboard.’
‘Just that she worked at the hospital. Is there more?’ In spite of her reservations about gossip, Alice found the idea of hearing gossip about a well-known gossip to be quite appealing.
‘She didn’t mention her husband, or rather her ex-husband, I bet.’
‘No, not a word. Just that she’s on her own now. What’s the mystery?’ She brought the mugs of tea over to the Aga and took a seat alongside Mrs Tinker. She waited expectantly for the story, but in vain. Instead, she heard Mrs Tinker sigh, and saw her mug of tea slip from her hand. Alice dived down to catch it but too late, it broke on the floor and splashed tea everywhere. Alice knelt down to pick up the pieces, offering Mrs Tinker some encouragement as she did so. ‘Don’t worry, it’s only broken into three big pieces. It’ll be easy to clear up.’
There was no response.
‘Are you all right, Mrs Tinker?’ She looked up. The old lady had toppled forward until her face was resting on her chest. She wasn’t moving. Alice sprang to her feet, grabbed her by the shoulders and straightened her up. Her eyes were closed, but at least she was still breathing. She ran for the phone in the hall and dialled 999. Once she had told the operator what had happened and the ambulance had been called, she went back into the kitchen. Danny the dog was sitting at Mrs Tinker’s side, his nose on her lap, making plaintive whining noises.
‘She’s not very well, Danny.’ Alice sat down and took the old lady’s hand in hers. The dog shuffled across to sit directly in front of her, the mournful brown eyes even sadder than normal.
‘She’ll be all right, Danny.’ But even she could hear the doubt in her voice.
Chapter 19
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