Phyllis

Phyllis smiled to herself as the car bombed down the A39. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this far from St. Tredock. Her mother hadn’t believed in holidays and so the furthest they’d ever ventured was Weston-super-Mare for a few joyless weekends. When her mother died, Phyllis had considered going on a proper holiday and had even got as far as picking up passport forms from the post office, but something had always stopped her. It was the same thing that had stopped her selling the wretched house and moving out of St. Tredock altogether. The what if?

“We’ll have to stop halfway and let Craddock out for a pee,” she said, but Nova didn’t respond. The girl hadn’t said a word since she’d almost run over Phyllis half an hour ago. Even when she’d stopped the car, all she’d done was open the passenger door and indicate for Phyllis to get in. They’d driven in silence ever since, Nova hunched over the steering wheel as if she were Michael Schumacher in the Grand Prix. Still, Phyllis didn’t mind; she was on her way to find Michael Watkins and finally get to the bottom of the case.

She glanced out the window and saw a signpost for Bodmin Moor, and the smile disappeared from her face. This was one detail Phyllis still needed to work out. Why had Michael abandoned his car in the middle of the moor, sixty miles from his final destination? Two possible explanations presented themselves. One—and Phyllis hated to admit this even to herself—was that Arthur had been correct, and Michael had arranged a rendezvous with a mysterious stranger on the moor, at which point he’d abandoned his car and traveled the remaining distance in an alternative vehicle. If that was the case, it would suggest that his whole “disappearance” had been both voluntary and premeditated, and Michael was currently shacked up in the cottage with his lover and ten grand in cash.

The second explanation, and the one Phyllis’s instincts told her was nearer to the truth, was her original theory that Michael’s disappearance was neither premeditated nor voluntary. Cynthia and/or Graham Pierce had finally caught up with Michael on Bodmin Moor, where they forced him out of his vehicle and into theirs. They’d then driven him to Lizard Point, where he was being held hostage while Cynthia no doubt emptied their bank account and eloped with her lover. In which case, Phyllis and Nova’s road trip might be about to turn into a full-blown rescue mission.

A loud ringing noise filled the car and Nova grimaced.

“That’ll be Craig.”

“You don’t have to answer it,” Phyllis said.

Nova leaned forward and pressed the screen. “Hi, Craig.”

“Hey babe, where are you?” His voice filled the car on loudspeaker. “Mum said she just got home and you’re not there.”

Nova didn’t immediately reply, and Phyllis watched the young woman chew her lip. It felt obtrusive to be listening to a private conversation, but at the same time, one could tell so much about a person by the way they spoke to their loved ones.

“Have you gone early to collect your mum?” Craig said, when Nova still hadn’t answered.

“No, her internal flight got canceled so she missed her connection. She’s getting a new one, but she won’t be here until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh no, that’s awful for her! But that means she’ll miss the rehearsal too? Shit, my mum really wanted everyone there tonight to practice their parts.”

“It’s all right, Craig; all my mum’s got to do is walk me down the aisle and do a reading, I’m sure she can handle that,” Nova said, and Phyllis could hear an edge of irritation in her voice.

“Where have you gone, then? It sounds like you’re in the car.”

Phyllis saw Nova’s hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “I’ve just gone for a little drive. I needed to get out of the house for a bit.”

Craig sighed, louder than was entirely necessary. “Mum said the favors are only half-finished and you’ve not folded any of the orders of service. You could at least have done those before you went out.”

“I’m sorry, but I can do them later.”

“It’s not like she’s asked you to do much, Nova. It’s just two tiny jobs, and you can’t even be bothered to do those.”

Phyllis scowled at the man’s tone. She was no expert on relationships—she’d never been married and had only ever courted one man, a very long time ago—but Phyllis was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to tell your future wife off the day before your wedding.

“I just needed to clear my head, but you can tell your mum I’ll—”

“I’m not your messenger, Nova. You should tell Mum yourself if you’re going to let her down.”

“For goodness’ sake, the girl said she’s sorry so leave her alone.”

The words were out of Phyllis’s mouth before she realized she’d said them. There was silence on the other end of the phone line. Next to her, Nova inhaled sharply.

“Nova, who’s that?” Craig said.

“I’m Phyllis Hudson, a member of your fiancée’s book club. I’m helping Nova save her job.”

“For Christ sake’s, Nova, what is wrong with you?” The man’s voice was so loud it made Phyllis jump. “You promised me you’d keep out of trouble, but here you are, pissing about with that bloody book club and putting yourself in danger yet again.”

“It’s not dangerous, I’ve got Phyllis here with me,” Nova said.

“Is that the old busybody with the smelly dog? How the hell is she going to help protect you?”

“How dare you!” Phyllis said. “Craddock isn’t smelly.”

“?‘My troublemaking days are over,’ you said, Nova. Is this what our marriage is going to be like, you lying to me and then running off behind my back?”

“I wasn’t lying to you when I said that. But then Phyllis and the others came to see me, and we had a breakthrough with where Michael might be. And Mum’s flight was delayed, so I knew I had time to do this. If I can find Michael and recover the stolen money, it won’t just save my job; it’ll save the community center too.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, if that center closes it won’t be because of you.” Craig snapped. “And yet still you apparently think it’s more important than our wedding.”

“Of course I don’t think that.”

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is, having Mum call me up and say my fiancée’s done a runner? You can’t just—”

The line went dead. Phyllis sat back in the seat, crossing her arms in satisfaction.

“What did you do that for? You can’t just turn off my phone, he’ll think I hung up on him!”

“Well, you should have, quite frankly. And what’s so wrong with being a busybody? Miss Marple was a self-professed busybody, and it helped her solve dozens of crimes.”

Nova groaned. “For God’s sake, Phyllis, turn it back on. I need the satnav.”

“I can direct us perfectly well with this,” Phyllis said, pulling an old AA road map out of the passenger door compartment. “Does your fiancé always talk to you like that?”

“Of course not. He’s just worried about me.”

“Why on earth is he worrying about you? You’re a grown woman, not some helpless child who needs a man’s permission to leave the house.”

“He’s not treating me like a child. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Phyllis swallowed down a stab of indignation. “I might not have much personal experience of romantic relationships, but I know plenty about controlling ones, thank you very much.”

“Trust me, it’s not how it looks. Something happened back in London, and ever since then Craig’s been a little overprotective. It’s only because he loves me.”

Phyllis sniffed. “I’ve heard that excuse before, when I correctly deduced Sheila Clark’s husband was hurting her on purpose. Sheila tried to defend him, too, but I had the evidence I needed to report him to the police. She left him eventually, and now she’s happily married to the man who used to clean her windows.”

Nova let out a long sigh. “Look, I realize you’re just trying to help here, but I promise you that Craig isn’t like that. As I said, it’s only because of what happened in my old job. He just doesn’t want me getting hurt again.”

“What happened in your job?”

Phyllis watched Nova’s brow furrow as she weighed up whether to tell her or not. Then her shoulders sagged.

“Before we moved to St. Tredock, I was a youth worker at a community center in London. Although it wasn’t easy and there were lots of complex issues to deal with, I loved the job and thought I’d do it forever…”

Nova trailed off, her eyes locked on the road ahead of them.

“So, why didn’t you?”

“There was this one sixteen-year-old boy, Declan, who used to come to some of the sessions I ran. He’d had the crappiest start in life. His parents were addicts, he’d been in and out of care, and when I first met him, he’d been expelled from two schools and was on a final warning at a third. But he was a smart kid, really smart; he loved Manga graphic novels and used to read them faster than anyone I’ve ever known. And you should have heard the way he talked about them, he was so insightful.”

“It sounds like he’d have been a welcome addition to our book club,” Phyllis said.

“God, yes, he’d have given you a run for your money!” Nova smiled, but then her face fell serious again. “Anyway, as a youth worker, there are all these strict rules in place to protect both you and the young people you work with, like no physical contact and you’re never allowed to be alone with them. But I admit, I used to break the rules a bit with Declan, letting him hang out at the center when I was doing boring admin jobs after hours. I knew I shouldn’t have been on my own with him, and I’m not making excuses for what I did, but I was still reeling from the grief of losing my dad. And when I chatted to this kid about his books, I felt a million miles away from everything that had happened. But I was so naive.”

Nova paused again, and the only sound was Craddock’s throaty snores in the backseat.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Phyllis said, because as much as she wanted to find out Nova’s story, she could tell it was hurting the girl to retell it.

“One day, Declan came to see me at the center. I was on my own locking up, but I let him in for a chat. I realized pretty quickly something was up. His pupils were dilated, and he was really agitated, like he couldn’t stand still.”

“Drugs?” Phyllis asked, and Nova nodded.

“He kept going on about how everything was shit and unfair, and I eventually managed to get out of him that there’d been some incident at school, a fight with another kid, and he’d been expelled. I tried to calm him down and get him out of the center, but I must have said the wrong thing because he just flipped. The next thing I knew, he’d pulled out a knife and was holding it against my throat.”

Despite herself, Phyllis inhaled sharply. She’d always known there must have been something bad in Nova’s past, given how jumpy the girl could be, but she’d never imagined it was something like this.

“A passerby heard my shout and came running into the center. Declan fled, but the police caught up with him pretty fast. It turned out he’d pulled the same knife on a lad at school who’d taken the piss out of his mum, and so the two offenses meant he didn’t stand a chance.”

From the backseat, Craddock let out a loud, protracted yawn. Nova shook herself, as if waking from a daydream.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Phyllis said.

“It was my fault. I should never have allowed myself to be alone in a vulnerable position with him, and I rightly got fired for breaking the safeguarding rules.”

“Fired? That hardly seems fair; the whole thing must have been terrifying for you.”

“To be honest, I think it scared Craig more than it scared me. It was one of the reasons we moved down here, because he was so worried something like that might happen again if we stayed in London. And that’s why he overreacted just now, because he’s scared I’ll put myself in a dangerous situation again, and this time the outcome will be worse.”

“What happened to the boy?” Phyllis asked.

Nova sighed again. “He ended up getting six months in a youth offenders unit, although I heard he got released recently.”

“Does that worry you?”

Nova shook her head. “I don’t think he ever meant to hurt me, he was just high, confused and scared. If anything, I’m more worried for him. It can be hard to move on from something like that. One mistake at the age of sixteen can define your whole life, especially if those around you won’t let you move on.”

Phyllis felt suddenly cold, despite the car heater blasting out, and she pulled her coat around her shoulders.

“It sounds like it was very traumatic, but I still don’t think this should be an excuse for your fiancée speaking to you like that.”

“He—”

“I understand what happened must have been a shock for him, but that doesn’t mean he can wrap you up in cotton wool. You have to be allowed to carry on living your own life.”

“I know, and I don’t think he wants to wrap me in cotton wool,” Nova said. “I guess just with all the stress of the wedding, he’s feeling particularly sensitive at the moment. I’m sure it’ll all be much easier once tomorrow is out of the way.”

Phyllis had never heard a bride talk about their wedding as something to get out of the way, but she decided not to say any more. As Miss Marple knew, sometimes it was better to say nothing at all. And so they drifted back into silence as the car drove on west, carrying them toward Michael Watkins.