Barking Up the Right Tree

Chapter 2

8

I expected Alice’s house to resemble Rosecroft, but the two properties were designed very differently. Where Rosecroft had a small hall, my neighbour’s front door led straight into a living room which was shrouded in semi-darkness, since the front window was concealed behind thick velvet curtains. A window at the side of the house was also hidden behind long drapes. Alice switched on a central light and I saw the room was furnished with pink and purple chintz-covered chairs. A dark wood coffee table stood in the centre of the room, within reach of both chairs and the matching two-seater sofa. Beneath it, covering most of the carpet, was a heavy patterned rug.

Alice led me to her kitchen at the back of the house, and instructed me to put my shopping bag on the table. This proved tricky, as the table was covered in a random collection of crockery and cutlery, carrier bags and packets of biscuits, trays, tins and a variety of vegetables. Once I had deposited the shopping, I tried to look outside without betraying my interest in her garden which, from what I could see, was even more overgrown than mine, with tall grasses and giant nettles and other plants that I assumed must be weeds since clearly no one had been taking care of the place for a while. Other than the proliferation of weeds, there was no sign of anything unusual out there, and no indication of why anyone would want to protect it with a metal fence.

Frustrated by my failure to discover what dark secret might be hidden in Alice’s house, I tried to broach the subject that was puzzling me.

‘You’ve got a very strong fence out there,’ I ventured.

Alice paused in putting her shopping away and visibly tensed.

‘My fence?’ she repeated, turning away from me to continue with her task. ‘Can you pass me the milk from that bag?’

‘Yes,’ I ploughed on. Aware that I must be sounding faintly ridiculous, I was glad Toby could not hear me. With a sudden flash of brilliance, I tried a different approach. ‘It’s just that it looks really strong and I need to replace my own fence on the other side. It’s falling down. You must have noticed. So I wondered where you got your fence from, and how much it was. It’s unusual to see a metal fence, isn’t it?’

‘Is it? Yes, I suppose you could be right. The old fence was falling apart and I wanted something that would last. Galvanised steel panels are not only strong, they’re maintenance free. They don’t need varnishing, they’re sturdy and storm resistant, and they don’t rot. They’re cost-effective as well, because they go directly into the ground. It makes so much sense to me. To be honest, I’m surprised more people don’t go for them.’

Alice’s explanation sounded like an advertisement for metal fences. Murmuring about how fascinating that was, I turned away from the window, disappointed to discover the truth was so much less dramatic than the scenarios I had dreamed up. Even if I hadn’t just lost interest in Alice’s secrets, it would have been difficult to pursue the topic without exposing the reason for my interest so I let it drop, instead asking whether there was anything else I could help her with. Alice smiled wistfully.

‘You remind me of my daughter,’ she said with a curiously yearning expression on her face. ‘She always likes to help people.’

‘Where is she?’ I asked. ‘Is she at university?’

Maud had already told me that Sophie was away travelling, but Alice seemed keen to talk about her daughter. Listening to her was the least I could do. Of course, Alice had no inkling I had suspected her of harbouring an unspecified dark secret, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty all the same, and made up my mind to be kind to her.

‘You must miss her dreadfully,’ I said.

‘She’s a wonderful girl,’ she said, her expression softer and somehow less distant.

‘You must be lonely without her,’ I said, beginning to glimpse a possible reason for Alice’s withdrawal from society.

‘Yes, but she’s having an amazing time, exploring so many different places,’ she said brightly.

‘When did she leave?’

Alice sniffed, and her expression grew guarded again. ‘As soon as she finished school, she was planning her trip. Of course her travels had to be modified because of the pandemic, due to all the restrictions. At the moment she’s in India and making her way to Thailand and Vietnam.’

‘It must be tricky getting around,’ I said.

Alice shrugged and turned away. ‘Oh, there’s always a way if you look for it.’

‘I suppose so,’ I agreed. ‘So do you Skype with her, or have Zoom calls?’

‘No, but she writes to me. I get letters from all over the world,’ she added, her eyes bright with excitement just thinking about the letters she received.

‘How wonderful. Not many people take the time to write letters these days.’

‘It is really lovely. I don’t know what I’d do if she stopped writing to me.’ Her voice faltered slightly.

‘What does she say in her letters?’

Genuine interest must have shown in my face, because Alice smiled shyly. ‘I could read some of them to you, if you like.’

All the time we were talking, Poppy had been barking frantically, which was unlike her. Anxious to see what she was up to, I thanked Alice and agreed to return another day, without my dog. Taking my leave, I was mortified to see an array of leaves and bright red petals strewn beside the path. Scolding Poppy, I replaced the ruined geraniums as neatly as I could, and hurried away before Alice noticed the mayhem in her flowerbeds. I hoped it wasn’t a foretaste of things to come when I had mended my fence and could leave Poppy to amuse herself in my garden. In the meantime, she seemed quite happy to spend time out in the yard at the tea shop. I was a little nervous about leaving her alone in the house, but my curiosity to find out more about Alice and her absent daughter overcame my qualms about abandoning my dog.

‘What I want to know is, how is Sophie getting around with all the travel restrictions?’ I asked Hannah, when we had a free moment in the tea shop that afternoon.

‘People manage,’ she replied, lifting a tray of scones out of the oven, red-faced. ‘It’s hardly our business what Sophie wants to do, anyway.’

Hannah’s scones made the heat of the kitchen worthwhile. I had tried to copy her recipe, but my scones lacked the light texture of my friend’s, although mine were tasty enough. Hannah assured me it was just a question of practice, but in the meantime, she continued making batches of scones and cakes for the tea shop customers, while I was supposed to be practising baking at home.

‘But don’t you think it’s odd?’ I persisted.

‘What’s odd is that you are so interested in what Sophie’s up to, when you haven’t even met her,’ she replied tartly. ‘Now, is that tea ready yet? We have customers waiting and you’re going to want to run out to play with your dog soon, so come on, let’s get to work.’

‘And what has Poppy got against her? She’s such a friendly dog usually,’ I said, unwilling to let the subject drop.

‘She obviously senses your unease around Alice,’ Hannah replied.

That made sense. Poppy was a very sensitive and intelligent dog.

‘Now can you please get on with setting the tray before all the customers get fed up with waiting and walk out?’