‘Oh, right, yes, Caro’s brother and his family popped in briefly to see her – so I gave them a quick tour,’ he lied. Then he carried on up the stairs to the attic and went in first. The clock radio still lay on the floor. Caro had stripped the bed – there was no way they were going to sleep in this room again, although he hadn’t yet figured out where they would sleep tonight. The spare beds they’d brought from Carlisle Road were all dismantled and stacked, at the moment, in the library. They would probably have to make do on the sofas. Barker had a full team working on the ceiling repair and was confident they’d be able to move back into their bedroom by tomorrow afternoon.

‘I’ve not been up here before,’ the builder said. ‘What a very pretty room. Reminds me of a little hotel in France where Jasmin and I stayed some years ago!’

‘That’s funny,’ Ollie said, grinning, but feeling very uncomfortable being back here, despite the bright daylight streaming through the window. ‘Caro and I said the same thing – it’s just like a place we stayed in a few years ago, near Limoges.’

‘Beautiful old bed – a real antique. Worth a few bob.’ Then Bryan Barker frowned. ‘A bit odd, though. I would have put it the other way, facing the window rather than the door.’

‘Actually,’ Ollie said, guardedly, ‘that’s what I wanted to discuss with you. How easy would it be to rotate it – a hundred and eighty degrees – without dismantling it?’

‘Rotate it a hundred and eighty degrees?’

‘Yes.’

Barker looked at the bed, around at the walls and up at the ceiling. Then he pulled an industrial-looking tape measure from his back pocket and measured the length, width and height of the bed. Next, he did the same for the room dimensions. When he had finished he did some mental calculations. After some moments he shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t be possible, Ollie, not without taking it apart.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely sure.’

‘How easy would it be to take it apart?’

Barker lifted one corner of the mattress and looked at the nut. ‘Doesn’t look like this has been touched in years.’ Then he checked around the entire bed, lifting each corner of the mattress in turn. When he had finished he said, ‘Well, it all comes apart. The easiest way would be to unscrew and reverse the headboard and the footer as they’re not welded to the frame.’

‘And if we actually wanted to rotate the entire bed?’

The builder gave him a puzzled look. ‘The legs would come off all right, with a bit of effort, but that still leaves the frame.’ He thought for some moments, looking even more puzzled. ‘If we took all four legs off, then we could rotate the frame – but –’ he shook his head – ‘it’s just over two metres long. The room is just under two metres wide.’ He opened one of the cupboard doors and peered inside. Then he stepped back. ‘We’d have to chop out the cupboard doors and then remove all the shelves. The only way would be to remove the legs, then take the frame out of the room, down the stairs, turn it and bring it back up again. But why do you want to make it so complicated?’

‘There’s no way two people could rotate this bed, in this room, on their own and without tools?’

‘Not in a million years,’ Bryan Barker said. ‘If it’s not a personal question, why are you asking?’

Ollie smiled. ‘I’m not very good at spatial stuff. Caro and I had a bet about it last night.’

‘And you reckoned it could be done?’

He nodded.

‘Hope you didn’t put too much money on it. I need you to pay my bills!’

Ollie stared warily around the room, wondering silently, as he had been all morning. What had happened in here last night? What the hell had happened in here?

Then he patted the builder reassuringly on the shoulder. ‘Relax, I didn’t bet the ranch.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

32

Thursday, 17 September

Twenty minutes later, after wolfing down a ham sandwich, and then a chocolate bar that he found in the fridge, Ollie walked back upstairs and along to the tower, momentarily preoccupied with thoughts about where he and Caro would sleep tonight.

The other spare rooms were in very poor condition, with rotten floorboards, peeling wallpaper, damp and black patches of mould. The big, extra-wide red sofas in the drawing room, which they’d bought some years ago and were great for lounging back in and watching television, seemed a lot more appealing.

That settled, his thoughts returned again to last night. He was still trying to find an explanation for what had happened. The only one so far, and it was a weak one, was that the bed had always been that way round and somehow they were mistaken in thinking otherwise. But he wasn’t convincing himself.

And just what the hell had Bryan Barker seen today? The O’Hare family? There had been four of them, according to the headstone in the graveyard. Two adults and two young children.

As he entered his office, his mobile phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number on the display.

‘Oliver Harcourt,’ he answered, warily.

The voice sounded elderly but richly sonorous, as if from someone long used to public speaking. ‘It’s Bob Manthorpe, you rang me earlier?’

The previous vicar of Cold Hill, Ollie realized. ‘Reverend Manthorpe, yes, thank you so much for calling back.’

‘Not at all, what can I do for you?’

‘Well, the thing is –’ Ollie stepped through the maze of packing cases and stacked files to his desk, and sat down – ‘my wife and I – we’ve just moved into a house called Cold Hill. I understand you were the vicar in the village some years ago?’

There was an extremely prolonged silence. Ollie wondered if they had been disconnected – or if the old man had hung up. Then he heard his voice. ‘Cold Hill House?’

‘Yes.’

‘It was being restored, I recall, a long time back. A very beautiful place indeed. Jolly good. Hope you’ll be very happy there.’

Ollie could detect the unease in his voice. ‘Thank you, we hope so too. I wanted to ask you a few things about your time here.’

‘Well, you know, I’ve been retired for some years. And these days my memory’s not what it was.’

‘Is there any chance we could meet? Just for a quick chat? It’s really quite important.’

‘Well, I suppose so.’ He sounded hesitant. ‘I’m free all afternoon today if you’re able to pop over?’

‘Where are you?’

‘Do you know Beddingham?’

‘Yes – just outside Lewes.’

‘I’m in a little cottage just off the roundabout at the bottom of Ranscombe Hill – the junction of the A26 and A27.’

Ollie did a quick calculation. It was about twenty to thirty minutes’ drive from here. He looked at his watch. It was 2.20 p.m. Normally he had to pick Jade up from school at 3.30, but she was staying on late today for a school orchestra practice and he’d agreed to collect her at 5.30. ‘I could be with you by three,’ he said.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Manthorpe said, then gave him a few more details on how to find the house.

Ollie went down to look for Bryan and Chris, and told them he was going out for a bit. Then he climbed into his car and headed out. Driving down the hill and into the village, although he knew it was ridiculous, he still found himself keeping an eye out for Harry Walters.

A short while later he headed down the A23 towards Brighton, then turned left at the roundabout at the bottom of Mill Hill, and up onto the A27, driving fast, thinking about all the questions he wanted to ask the retired vicar.

He passed the sprawling, tree-lined campus of Sussex University to his left, and glanced ruefully at the stunning superstructure of the Amex football stadium to his right. He’d been a season-ticket holder since it opened, but because of buying the house, and having to cut down on all expenses, he’d had to let that go for this new season. Hopefully, he’d be back before too long. He was already missing the Saturday afternoon gatherings there with his mates.