finished and was walking back down the stairs. ‘Also, a red-and-white spotted dress with short sleeves, and I can’t see Petal’s red shorts anywhere, so my guess is that she was wearing those, ready to change into her Britannia costume. Are her yellow raincoat and wellingtons still here?’
‘I haven’t seen them,’ the policeman responded. ‘There’s a scruffy, off-white adult raincoat on the hook by the back door. Is that Miss March’s?’
‘Yes, and Petal’s yellow coat is usually next to it. So she must be wearing that. It doesn’t look like Petal ran out of here in fright, does it? No six-year-old picks up a change of clothing, including clean socks, do they? I doubt Petal would even think to put on her coat.’
‘Umm! Yes, you’re right there,’ DI Girling said thoughtfully. He took a notebook from his pocket and wrote down theitems she’d identified as missing. ‘Can you think of anything else that might be missing?’
‘I can’t see her toy dog, a floppy, brown-and-white thing, she used to cuddle it when she was tired, or if you read to her. Cassie never let her take it to the shops or anywhere like that, it had to stay on her bed.’
Simon came over to Molly. ‘Did you see Cassie’s diary up there?’
‘No, it wasn’t there,’ she said.
Simon looked at DI Girling. ‘Have the police already found it and taken it away?’
DI Girling looked suddenly more animated. ‘There was no diary on the list of items which were taken away. What was it like?’
‘Big, seven by ten inches, I’d say, a dark-blue leather cover with a metal clasp. It was a five-year one, and Cassie said she wrote it up every day.’
‘Where did she keep it?’ DI Girling asked.
‘I saw it on the table when I came for a meal one evening,’ Simon said.
‘It was mostly on the dresser,’ Molly said, going over to it and looking in the drawer. ‘Cassie told me that maybe she’d use it one day as a basis to write a book.’
‘She said that to me, too.’ Simon nodded. ‘We used to talk a lot about writing when I came by. She asked me how you know where to begin a book, and whether it’s better to write in the first person or the third.’
‘Did she let you read any of the diary?’ DI Girling asked Simon.
‘Oh no, she hated the idea of anyone looking at it,’ Simon said firmly. ‘She struck me as a very private person. She saidonce that, if she did ever write a book, the most daunting thing for her would be getting someone to read it when she’d finished to give a critique.’
DI Girling turned to Molly. ‘Did she say anything about her diary to you?’
‘Only that writing down what happened to her helped her rationalize things. She said she wrote down stuff like people being nasty to her because she was an unmarried mother with a mixed race child. She said that seeing it on the page made it clear to her that they were ignorant and bigoted, and they were to be pitied. She claimed that stopped her hurting.’
DI Girling looked a bit bemused at that. ‘She kind of put her head on the chopping block coming to live here in an all-white area, didn’t she?’ he said. ‘Now, if she’d gone to live in Bristol, no one would’ve turned a hair. Did she ever say why she came here?’
‘I got the idea she wanted to hide away,’ Simon said. ‘Did you get that idea, too, Molly?’
Molly nodded. ‘Yes, she was a bit of a hermit. She’d go into Bristol once a week on the bus, and in the school holidays she’d take Petal to Wells, or Bath, but the rest of the time she was just here in the cottage. She grew vegetables, she’d cook, knit and read. She didn’t even have a wireless.’
‘What did she live on? Did she ever say?’
‘Very little,’ Molly said. ‘She had to count every penny. She had a cleaning job in Bristol, and that’s why she went there every Thursday. She usually came into the shop for food after she got back, too.’
‘Did she tell you who she worked for?’
‘No, and I
‘I haven’t seen them,’ the policeman responded. ‘There’s a scruffy, off-white adult raincoat on the hook by the back door. Is that Miss March’s?’
‘Yes, and Petal’s yellow coat is usually next to it. So she must be wearing that. It doesn’t look like Petal ran out of here in fright, does it? No six-year-old picks up a change of clothing, including clean socks, do they? I doubt Petal would even think to put on her coat.’
‘Umm! Yes, you’re right there,’ DI Girling said thoughtfully. He took a notebook from his pocket and wrote down theitems she’d identified as missing. ‘Can you think of anything else that might be missing?’
‘I can’t see her toy dog, a floppy, brown-and-white thing, she used to cuddle it when she was tired, or if you read to her. Cassie never let her take it to the shops or anywhere like that, it had to stay on her bed.’
Simon came over to Molly. ‘Did you see Cassie’s diary up there?’
‘No, it wasn’t there,’ she said.
Simon looked at DI Girling. ‘Have the police already found it and taken it away?’
DI Girling looked suddenly more animated. ‘There was no diary on the list of items which were taken away. What was it like?’
‘Big, seven by ten inches, I’d say, a dark-blue leather cover with a metal clasp. It was a five-year one, and Cassie said she wrote it up every day.’
‘Where did she keep it?’ DI Girling asked.
‘I saw it on the table when I came for a meal one evening,’ Simon said.
‘It was mostly on the dresser,’ Molly said, going over to it and looking in the drawer. ‘Cassie told me that maybe she’d use it one day as a basis to write a book.’
‘She said that to me, too.’ Simon nodded. ‘We used to talk a lot about writing when I came by. She asked me how you know where to begin a book, and whether it’s better to write in the first person or the third.’
‘Did she let you read any of the diary?’ DI Girling asked Simon.
‘Oh no, she hated the idea of anyone looking at it,’ Simon said firmly. ‘She struck me as a very private person. She saidonce that, if she did ever write a book, the most daunting thing for her would be getting someone to read it when she’d finished to give a critique.’
DI Girling turned to Molly. ‘Did she say anything about her diary to you?’
‘Only that writing down what happened to her helped her rationalize things. She said she wrote down stuff like people being nasty to her because she was an unmarried mother with a mixed race child. She said that seeing it on the page made it clear to her that they were ignorant and bigoted, and they were to be pitied. She claimed that stopped her hurting.’
DI Girling looked a bit bemused at that. ‘She kind of put her head on the chopping block coming to live here in an all-white area, didn’t she?’ he said. ‘Now, if she’d gone to live in Bristol, no one would’ve turned a hair. Did she ever say why she came here?’
‘I got the idea she wanted to hide away,’ Simon said. ‘Did you get that idea, too, Molly?’
Molly nodded. ‘Yes, she was a bit of a hermit. She’d go into Bristol once a week on the bus, and in the school holidays she’d take Petal to Wells, or Bath, but the rest of the time she was just here in the cottage. She grew vegetables, she’d cook, knit and read. She didn’t even have a wireless.’
‘What did she live on? Did she ever say?’
‘Very little,’ Molly said. ‘She had to count every penny. She had a cleaning job in Bristol, and that’s why she went there every Thursday. She usually came into the shop for food after she got back, too.’
‘Did she tell you who she worked for?’
‘No, and I
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