‘You do not mention a father.’
‘There is no father. He left them, during the war. It’s all very complicated and Robert never talks about it. You see, there was a family tragedy. There’s a big lake at Pye Hall and it’s said to be very deep. Robert had a younger brother called Tom and the two of them were swimming together in the lake. Robert was fourteen. Tom was twelve. Anyway, Tom got out of his depth and he drowned. Robert tried to save him but he couldn’t.’
‘Where was the father at this time?’
‘He was a mechanic at Boscombe Downs, working for the RAF. It’s not that far away and he was at home quite a lot but he wasn’t there when it happened. And when he found out – well, you’d have to ask Robert, not that he remembers very much of it, I’m sure. The point is that his parents just tore each other apart. He blamed her for not looking after the boys properly. She blamed him for being away. I can’t tell you very much because Robert never speaks about it and the rest is just village gossip. Anyway, the upshot was that he moved out leaving the two of them living alone in the Lodge. They got divorced later on and I’ve never even met him. He wasn’t at the funeral – or if he was, I didn’t see him. His name is Matthew Blakiston but that’s about all I know.
‘Robert grew up with his mother but the two of them were never happy together. Really, they should have moved. They should never have stayed near that horrible place. I don’t know how she did it, walking past the lake where her own son had died, seeing it every day. I think it poisoned her … It reminded her of the boy she’d lost. And maybe part of her blamed Robert even though he was nowhere near when it happened. People do behave like that, don’t they, Mr Pünd. It’s a sort of madness …’
Pünd nodded. ‘It is true that we have many ways of coping with loss,’ he said. ‘And grief is never rational.’
‘I only met Mary Blakiston a few times, although of course I saw her in the village quite a bit. She often used to come to the surgery. Not because she was ill. She and Dr Redwing were good friends. After Robert and I got engaged, she invited us round to the Lodge for tea – but it was horrible. She wasn’t exactly unfriendly but she was so cold, asking me questions as if I was applying for a job or something. We had tea in the front room and I can still see her with her cup and saucer, sitting in her chair in the corner. She was like a spider in a web. I know I shouldn’t say things like that, but that was what I thought. And poor Robert was completely in her shadow. He was so different when he was with her, quiet and shy. I don’t think he said a word. He just stared at the carpet as if he had done something wrong and was about to be told off. You should have seen how she treated him! She didn’t have a single good word to say about him. She was dead set against our marriage. She made that much clear. And all the time the clock was ticking away. There was this huge grandfather clock in the room and I couldn’t wait for it to strike the hour so we could be on our way.’
‘Your fiancé no longer lived with his mother? At the time of her death?’
‘No. He was still in the same village but he’d moved into a flat above the garage where he works. I think it was one of the reasons he took the job, to get away from her.’ Joy folded the tissue and slipped it into her sleeve. ‘Robert and I love each other. Mary Blakiston made it clear that she didn’t think I was good enough for him but even if she hadn’t died, it wouldn’t have made any difference. We’re going to get married. We’re going to be happy together.’
‘If it does not distress you, Miss Sanderling, I would be interested to know more about her death.’
‘Well, as I say, it happened on a Friday, two weeks ago. She’d gone up to Pye Hall to do the cleaning – Sir Magnus and Lady Pye were away – and somehow she tripped when she was doing the hoovering and fell down the stairs. Brent, who works in the grounds, saw her lying there and called the doctor but there was nothing anyone could do. She’d broken her neck.’
‘Were the police informed?’
‘Yes. A detective inspector came round from the Bath constabulary. I didn’t actually talk to him but apparently he was very thorough. The wire of the Hoover was in a loop at the top of the stairs. There was nobody else in the house. All the doors were locked. It was obviously just an accident.’
‘And yet you say that Robert Blakiston is accused of her murder.’
‘That’s just the village talking and it’s why you’ve got to help us, Mr Pünd.’ She drew a breath. ‘Robert argued with his mother. The two of them often argued. I think they had never really escaped from the unhappiness of what had happened all those years before and in a way it was hurting both of them. Well, they had a nasty row outside the pub. Lots of people heard them. It started because she wanted him to mend something in the Lodge. She was always asking him to do odd jobs for her and he never refused. But this time he wasn’t happy about it and there was a lot of name-calling and then he said something which I know he didn’t mean but everyone heard him so it doesn’t matter if he meant it or not. “I wish you’d drop dead”.’ The tissue came out again. ‘That’s what he said. And three days later she was.’
She fell silent. Atticus Pünd sat behind his desk, his hands neatly folded, his face solemn. James Fraser had been taking notes. He came to the end of a sentence and underlined a single word several times. Sunlight was streaming in through the window. Outside, in Charterhouse Square, office workers were beginning to appear, carrying their lunchtime sandwiches into the fresh air.
‘It is possible,’ Pünd muttered, ‘that your fiancé did have good reason to kill his mother. I have not met him and I don’t wish to be unkind but we must at least entertain the possibility. The two of you wished to marry. She stood in the way.’
‘But she didn’t!’ Joy Sanderling was defiant. ‘We didn’t need her permission to get married and it wasn’t as if she had money or anything like that. Anyway, I know Robert had nothing to do with it.’