False Picture by Veronica Heley Read Free Book Online Page A

murder, not literally, of course, but …
    Which led Bea to acknowledge a tiny crumple of uneasiness at the back of her mind. Had Velma laid on the charm a trifle too thickly? Of course not. Velma had known she was asking Bea a big favour and had acted accordingly. It was natural for her to do the blue-eyed innocent look. Still, there were one or two gaps in her story, now that Bea came to think about it. In the morning she would phone Velma and clarify one or two points.
    She relaxed. The light faded gradually, so gradually that she hardly noticed it. Summer evening sounds carried far, a party in a garden some way away … a barbecue by the sound and smell. Someone was adjusting a television set, changing channels. Lights were switched on here and there. A woman was on a mobile, laughing, chatting, the words indistinguishable.
    The phone ringing.
    Her phone ringing.
    She ran up the iron staircase to the sitting room, only to hear someone leave a message. Max? No. It was Nicole, explaining they were out but would get in touch soon, bye, bye. Bea tried to ring back, but Nicole’s mobile was switched off again. Bother.
    Bea tried Velma’s mobile, but that was switched off, too. Velma wasn’t answering her phone at home, either, so Bea left a message to say that Maggie had moved into the flat and would be reporting next day. Oliver wasn’t back yet. Bea was faintly uneasy about him. And, she had to admit, about Maggie.
    She tidied the house ready for bed, and took one of the art books up with her. After a couple of pages, she laid it down. She realized she was listening out for the youngsters, which was ridiculous, of course. Ten o’clock, and she tried to read a few verses from Hamilton’s bible but couldn’t concentrate. She read something about asking your neighbour for a loaf of bread when he’d turned in for the night, which didn’t make much sense. She read it again. Ah, it meant that if your neighbour went on asking, you did eventually get out of bed, disturbing the whole household, in order to give him what he wanted. Hamilton would have said it was all about being constant in prayer.
    Well, she didn’t know much about prayer, but she was pretty sure that she wasn’t capable of that much persistence … fancy sticking at it long enough to get your neighbour out of bed for a loaf of bread! Her mind wandered to what they’d have to eat at the weekend. Maggie usually saw to all that but if Maggie wasn’t here, Bea had better do some shopping tomorrow. She turned off the light.
    Eleven, and Oliver still hadn’t returned. In all the time Oliver had been living with her, he’d never once been out this late. He had undoubtedly been run over and was lying in hospital, mangled beyond belief. If he wasn’t back by midnight, she’d start ringing the hospitals.
    She lay so that she could see the display on the digital clock on her bedside table. She thought it would be a good idea to pray for Oliver’s safety, but she wasn’t sure she knew any prayers of that kind. Would it be enough just to say,
Please look after him, please
?
    And now she was about it, what about a bit of help for Velma and her Sandy … and she supposed for Philip as well, though it did sound as if Velma’s suspicions were justified … and as for Maggie …
    Bea smiled.
Yes, please do spare a moment to look after Maggie, because I honestly don’t think I ought to have sent her to live in that flat. And yes, I am sorry I did it, it was selfish of me and I really wish I hadn’t.
    The front door closed, soft footsteps went up past her bedroom door, and on again up to the top of the house where Oliver and Maggie had their rooms. Bea relaxed, turned over in bed, and went to sleep.
    The new girl was cut from the same cloth as Charlotte but hid it better. All Brave New World on top, and insecure little beetle underneath. And how she chattered! All about her