Isaac shook his head at the closed door and glared at Mrs Glover who was being dragged into an interview room behind the booking desk. “I want to be in on the interview.”
“Co-operate and it might be just your husband who gets a death sentence,” Sergeant Meadows informed Mrs Glover as he backed out of the interview room and closed the door leaving one of his officers on guard outside the door.
“Is she worried?” Mark asked when the Sergeant resumed his position behind the booking counter.
Meadows nodded. “I would give her a little time to contemplate her situation if I were you, sir. She might not be so bold once reality sinks in.”
“I will question her later. Let her sit in there and stew. We might need to put her in the cells for a bit. It is far more important that we find her husband. I strongly suspect that he is the killer,” Mark bit out.
Isaac didn’t argue with him because he too suspected that Mr Glover was the real killer. What he couldn’t understand was why the Glovers had felt the need to incriminate Tuppence.
“
Go home, Isaac. We will conduct the search and put the notices go in all the towns, villages, and newspapers. It might take us a while, but we will find him. It is far more important that you make sure the man can’t get at Tuppence.” Mark turned to the door. “I am going to have a quick word with my wife before I join the search.”
Isaac watched him go. He felt helpless now his part in the investigation was officially over, but it was for the police officers of the Great Tipton Police Station to find the real killer and put him behind bars with his wife. With a heavy sigh, Isaac reluctantly returned home.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tuppence sat in the luxurious parlour at Aldridge Manor and stared absently into the fire. She was warm for the first time in what felt like an age. She was well fed having just enjoyed the most sumptuous meal she could ever remember having. Moreover, she was safe. But there was still a heavy cloud hanging over her. It was so dark, so oppressive, that she wondered if she could reach up and touch it. What she couldn’t decide was how she was going to remove it, or herself from all the problems she faced.
“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” Gertrude murmured.
Tuppence sat upright and offered the woman a half-hearted smile. “I am trying to decide what I should do with my future. It is safe to say that I cannot return to the farm.”
“Are you sorry about that?” Gertrude perched in the chair opposite the fireplace.
“While I was dragging bales of hay around, I asked myself on many occasions what on earth I was doing. But it was a burden I could never contemplate removing from my life. Life on a farm was my great-grandfather’s choice, and my father’s choice after that. My father always said he was born to be raised on a farm. As a young girl, I never realised what that meant. I do now. There was always a duty, an expectancy, placed upon me that I would join in and help during the busiest seasons. You know, during lambing in the spring, and harvesting in the summertime. It never occurred to me to want to do something for myself, with my own future; to make my own choices. I think that is why I am struggling to think of something else to do with my time if I don’t return to Hilltop Farm.”
Gertrude, who had never once stopped to consider life in that way, mulled it over for several long moments.
Tuppence felt the silence stretch out between them, and initially took Gertrude’s silence for lack of interest. She wished now that she hadn’t said anything. It wasn’t until Gertrude spoke that she sensed a softness in Isaac’s mother that she hadn’t seen before.
“I am sure my son would say exactly the same thing,” Gertrude said softly. “While you are socially and financially miles apart, he too has been raised to fulfil the expectations of his elders. His ancestors built this house like your ancestors built Hilltop Farm. He has been raised to run it, regardless of his own wants in life, very much like you have been raised with the expectancy that you would want to run a farm when the time came that you were old enough to do it.”
“But there hasn’t ever been any expectancy on me to be in this situation. You should know even better than I do that women don’t do the kind of things that I have had to do. My great-grandfather always used to call things he didn’t agree with ‘balderdash’. He would have said ‘balderdash’ to anybody who suggested that I would take over the running of Hilltop Farm one day, but then nobody ever expected my brother to die as young as he did.”
Gertrude smiled. “I never really questioned what my parents wanted for me. I was born to marry; to find a suitable husband with wealth and a title. My expectations in life went no further than making the right connections and being able to run a house other people would be impressed with. I was born to live in the shadow of my husband’s ancestry, and I was happy to. I mean, who wouldn’t love to live in a house like this? But it takes work. It isn’t all luxury and menus in the way that most people think. There are problems to deal with when living in a huge house like this. Something always needs to be repaired. The house is over three hundred years old. The Normans used to live here, for Heaven’s sake. While the place has a history stretching back hundreds of years, I am firmly of the belief that the word ‘history’ has a hidden meaning of ‘expensive’ running through it. Something this old takes time, effort, and a lot of money to maintain. Thankfully, Isaac and his father have been clever enough to create fortunes that means they could afford the running costs of living here, but there are still decorators and maintenance men to organize, staff, cleaning schedules, routine chores, and then the menus and social functions to organise. It is a constant whirl of organising and activity that doesn’t really leave much time for just being a person who enjoys life.” When Gertrude saw the astonishment on Tuppence’s face she sighed and leaned back in her seat. “Oh, I am not complaining. But as a girl, one thinks of a large house like this and sees a handsome knight in shining armour. You know, kisses in the rose garden, and romance under moonlit stars. Life in a house like this is often cold because the place has many draughts the sources of which we can never seem to find. There is little time to relax, and simply enjoy things. Even wandering through the rose garden, I find myself looking for things that need to be trimmed and often make mental lists of things to discuss with the staff. Then there are ongoing battles, petty squabbles, and arguments between the staff that I am required to resolve. There are menus and groceries to order, and that is just ordinary life and doesn’t include the organisation that has to go into the social functions we are expected to host every year.”
“You must be relieved when you can escape it all,” Tuppence murmured. “I never really contemplated the problems with living in a house like this. I just assumed that the staff did most of the work and you were able to enjoy living here.”
“I do, most of the time, but it isn’t all lying around on the chaise lounge and eating grapes out of the orangery all day. It is about managing a long list of chores that is seemingly endless.”
“I don’t understand.”
Gertrude knew that Tuppence was really asking why she was telling her such things. “There are young women who are primped and preened from a young age to look attractive to the most eligible bachelors. The young things are then paraded out to social functions until they find the best suitor on the market. Only then do they get to run their own house, but their lives are still not their own. They are trained to run houses like this but rarely go any further than giving staff orders. The real skill in running houses like this lies with the staff, the people who light the fires even if the wood is wet and the coal won’t burn, in draughty old fireplaces that are so ancient they are black. The real skill is in being able to carry huge trays of food and drinks up three flights of stairs by candlelight without dropping everything or waking everyone up. My life in this house has made me see that. Life without my husband has made me worry about Isaac and the stress providing for everyone puts him under. I have watched him work over the family accounts late into the night, paying bills, wages, and ensuring that each of the estate workers has a list of chores to do the next day. I have seen him pacing backward and forward when the snow is falling, and lambing season is about to begin.”
“This house sounds like my farm,” Tuppence smiled.
“Exactly.” Gertrude leaned back in her seat and pierced Tuppence with a frank look. “I know my son, my dear. I know him far better than he thinks I do. I know that if he were made to marry one of those insipid misses on the social circuit, he would be bored stupid within a fortnight and he would despise me for his misery. He needs someone strong enough to walk beside him, who can take on her fair share of the burden of running this place with practical ease and determination. God knows, I have taken on my fair share over time, but I think I should rather like to do something else for a while.” Gertrude turned to stare dreamily out of the window. “I have long had a yearning to travel abroad. You know, travel the world, and see a bit more of what is on offer before I am too old to see anymore. But I have always felt a duty, a responsibility, not to leave Isaac here to run this place by himself. You see, without someone else here to help him run it, I rather think he would have been inclined to give up the lot and go and find his own life.”
“He needs a reason to keep it going,” Tuppence murmured.
“Indeed. You see, his father ran this place knowing that he would give it to his son when he died, and that his son would have a roof over his head for as long as he wanted it,” Gertrude replied.
“Isn’t that what all parents want for their children?”
“Yes, but Isaac isn’t married. I know that he has resented me being here a time or two, but he really has had little interest in marrying, and he really doesn’t have enough time to run a house like this as well as the estate.”