Chapter 37

The welcome from the Denches' next-door neighbour couldn't have been more different to the one they'd received from Logan and his mum.

Within minutes of knocking the door, Tiff and Penn were seated at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a plate full of digestives.

‘Now, tell me how I can help,' Doris Winslow said, pushing the plate towards Tiff.

After wondering if she particularly looked like she needed feeding, Tiff took a biscuit but held it in her hand. ‘Not sure if you've seen the news, Mrs Winslow, but we recovered a body from one of the Dudley fishing lakes. The man was James Nixon, a very good friend of your neighbours.'

‘Oh no, poor man.'

‘Did you know him?' Tiff asked before taking a nibble of her biscuit.

‘Not really, but he seemed nice enough. He'd smile and wave if he saw me. He pulled my bin back down the path a few times, even cleared the slabs of snow one time. Ahh, that's a shame. Heart attack, was it?'

‘We're not sure yet,' Tiff said. It was the response she'd expected, but that wasn't the reason for the visit.

Mrs Winslow continued. ‘My Derek died of a heart attack. Fitter than a butcher's dog, he was, but it still got him; buying a loaf of bread, he was. All we wanted was a bit of toast, but right there in the supermarket he keeled over and died. They ker-chunked him,' she said, making a motion with her hands that Tiff guessed was meant to be a defibrillator. ‘But it was no good. That was Derek. Once he made his mind up, that was it.'

Tiff wasn't sure how much control the man had had, but the woman's chatting had given her time to eat her biscuit.

‘Olivia seems to have thought the world of James,' Tiff said, bringing the conversation back.

‘Oh, I think she did in her own way. She'd been through the mill with her husband. Lost him to cancer, but it wasn't for the want of trying. If anyone could have prevented his death through passion and commitment, it would have been Olivia. She refused to take a break, wouldn't leave his bedside. She even set up a mattress next to his sick bed so that he wouldn't be alone.'

‘It must have hit her hard when he died,' Penn offered.

‘It's no easier when you know it's coming. There's still that point where one minute they're there and the next they're not. The boy was a big help to her, though I think he was relieved when James came around. Took some of the pressure off him. James made her laugh. They were good friends, and he was helping her heal.'

Tiff realised that with a woman like Doris Winslow, she didn't really need to ask questions.

‘It was none of my business, but I think it was a bit soon for anything serious. Her heart was still with her husband. James going away was the final straw, and now poor Logan has to deal with it all on his own.'

‘Deal with what?' Tiff asked, taking another biscuit as Penn sipped his tea.

‘Well, I don't think she's very well,' Doris said, tapping her temple. ‘Completely understandable. The stress of her husband dying and then the disappearance. You can understand how a few marbles might have come loose.'

Tiff looked past the woman's questionable description of mental health issues to probe further. ‘She's been unwell?'

‘Oh yes. Poor Logan has no real life of his own due to taking care of his mom.'

‘He's told you this?' Penn asked.

‘Oh, not in so many words. He's very loyal to her. He asked me to collect a prescription for him, well, for his mom. I didn't mean to be nosey. The bag was open. They were antidepressants. I didn't say anything. I just told him if he ever needed anything to give me a shout. He was so grateful for the kind words he almost burst into tears.' She shook her head sadly. ‘And much to his shame, I saw what he was dealing with myself.'

‘How so?' Tiff asked, growing more confused. Olivia hadn't struck her as someone on the edge, but could she really judge, having spent no more than a total of half an hour with her and having heard no more than a few sentences come out of her mouth?

‘One night, oh, about a year ago now, I glanced out of the back bedroom window before closing the curtains. Olivia was out there in her nightie, no shoes, just her nightie, trying to climb the back fence. Logan was trying to talk her down, but she wouldn't listen. She was frantic, manic, scraping her hands and feet on the wooden slats. In the end, Logan had no choice but to yank her down by force. She put up a good fight, but luckily Logan is a strong boy and managed to get her back inside. He saw me watching, and I felt so sorry for the poor lad.

‘He popped round for a cuppa the next morning and explained she'd been forgetting to take her tablets. I offered my help, and he asked me for two things,' she said before taking a sip of her tea.

They waited.

‘He asked me not to share what I'd seen with anyone. He was scared the doctor would insist on sending her to an institution and it would kill her being away from all the memories of his dad. He really felt she could do better on her own with more time. The boy was beside himself with worry. Of course I was happy to keep it to myself. No one else's business.'

‘And the other thing?' Penn asked, finishing his tea.

‘He asked if he could pop round now and again when she was sleeping, just for a bit of a break and a chat. Of course, I told him he was welcome any time.'

‘And does he?'

‘Oh yes. He comes round every couple of weeks. Tells me about the jobs he's doing next door and apologises for the noise he makes sometimes. He's a good boy and doesn't complain about how much care his mom needs.'

The woman continued waxing lyrical about Logan's numerous good qualities. For a few minutes, they listened politely before thanking her for her time.

As she headed for the car, Tiff took one last look at the home of Logan and Olivia Dench. She had one question.

What the hell was going on in that house?