As The Pig Turns

up at the station?’
    ‘No, I’m driving down. See you Friday evening.’
    Toni at last saw the Richardses leaving the hotel. Tom Richards kissed his ex-wife on the cheek and strode off. Fiona Richards set off in the opposite direction. Toni had already paid the bill in the café, so she followed in pursuit, with Phil following a discreet distance behind.
    Fiona went into a dress shop, and after only a little hesitation, Toni followed her in just as a formidable sales assistant was ushering Fiona into a changing room, saying, ‘I’ve got the very thing for you. Cerise silk.’ She swung a frumpy outfit off its hanger and handed it into the changing room.
    Fiona Richards was a contrast to the dead Amy, thought Toni, patiently waiting for her to come out. Amy wouldn’t have been seen dead in a frock like that.
    ‘How much is that dress you have just given that lady to try on?’ asked Toni.
    ‘Four hundred and ninety-nine pounds.’
    ‘Bit steep.’
    The assistant looked coldly at Toni. ‘Do you want something?’
    ‘I just want a word with Mrs Richards.’
    The assistant went into the changing room. ‘What do you think?’
    ‘May as well. I need something for the Woman of the Year banquet.’
    ‘Ooh, have you been selected?’
    ‘Hardly. I’m just a housewife. Yes, I’ll take it.’
    ‘There’s a young lady waiting to speak to you.’
    Fiona glanced out of the changing room and then shut the door. ‘I do not wish to speak to her. Tell her to go away. She’s one of those awful detectives.’
    The assistant approached Toni. ‘Come into my office, please. I want a word with you. Come along, or I’ll call the police.’
    Once in the small office, which smelled of perfume and cloth, the assistant said, ‘Mrs Richards doesn’t want to speak to you, and she has made that perfectly clear. You will leave immediately.’
    At that moment, they both heard the shop door bang.
    The assistant looked out of the window and saw Fiona scurrying off down the street. ‘You’ve lost me a sale,’ she wailed.
    Toni ran out of the shop, looking to right and left, but could see no sign of Fiona.
    Phil was remarkably spry for seventy-odd years. He followed Fiona to the car park. She had been moving very quickly, taking a circuitous route through market stalls to the car park.
    She was just about to get into her car when Phil approached her. ‘Excuse me!’
    Fiona surveyed him. Phil had white hair and a gentle face.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘I think I saw a couple of youths trying to break into your car. They saw me and ran off. Maybe you’d better go to the police station and I’ll help you put in a report.’
    ‘The police won’t do anything,’ said Fiona. ‘Useless. But thanks all the same.’
    Phil gave a charming laugh. ‘I don’t know what they would have done if they had confronted me. Bit long in the tooth. You know, you look a bit shaken. Fancy a cup of tea?’ As she hesitated, he added, ‘With my years, you can hardly think I’m trying to pick you up.’
    ‘Oh, all right. I could do with a cuppa. I had lunch at the George and there was too much salt in the food.’
    ‘There’s a new café just next to the abbey,’ said Phil.
    ‘Lead the way.’
    Over a pot of tea and toasted tea cakes in a shady garden at the back of the café, Fiona visibly relaxed as Phil prattled on about the unseasonably warm weather.
    ‘Are you originally from Mircester?’ asked Phil.
    ‘No, I’m a London girl. I think when the kids are old enough, I’ll move back. Never really settled here.’
    ‘But the countryside is so beautiful!’ exclaimed Phil.
    ‘It’s not even real countryside. Neat little fields. Manicured rubbish to keep rich farmers in their four-wheelers.’
    ‘I don’t know that the farmers have all that easy a time of it,’ ventured Phil. ‘I mean, they’re so dependent on the weather.’
    ‘And government subsidies,’ said Fiona.
    Phil decided to quickly abandon that subject.
    ‘Are you married?’ he realized Fiona was asking.
    ‘No. Are you?’
    ‘Was. But we have friendly relations because of the children. Do you know his wife was found murdered the other day?’
    ‘Good heavens!’ said Phil. ‘I read about a murder at Tesco’s in Stow.’
    ‘That’s the one.’
    ‘Why her? Is it because she was at one time married to that policeman who was murdered as well?’
    ‘Probably. I don’t know why she was murdered of all people. She was a silly, common little thing. My ex was