‘I always do push-ups on the beach. Must have been a shell that was in the sand.’
Guinevere frowned. It was kind of hard to see how a fit man doing a couple of push-ups would have made contact with a shell in the sand on that particular place. But she wasn’t about to suggest anything like that. Oliver probably already thought she was taking her deductions too far.
‘That’s the B&B.’ Oliver pointed at a red roof to their left. ‘You can take that little-used path there and end up at the backyard. Maybe you’ll catch Tegen feeding the chickens.’
Guinevere wondered briefly how, if Oliver wasn’t around Cornisea a lot, he knew Tegen’s daily routine, but she forgot all about it after they had parted and she followed the narrow path and came into a beautiful authentic backyard with a henhouse, geese waddling near a small pond, and a peacock giving its high-pitched cry. It wasn’t the usual peacock, but the white variety, which Guinevere had only seen in pictures.
Tegen, dressed in a simple red top and jeans, stood throwing grain from a bowl onto the ground for the hungry chickens.
Dolly focused on all the feathered turmoil with her nose stretched ahead of her. She didn’t yap though or run forward. As Guinevere halted and gave a little tug on the leash, Dolly sat down, still mesmerized by the chickens.
Tegen looked up, saw Guinevere, and flashed a reluctant smile. ‘Hello. Isn’t Ollie with you? I thought I saw him coming down from the castle.’
‘Yes, but he has to meet someone at the harbour.’ Guinevere didn’t want to mention it was a lawyer and Oliver was worried enough about his father’s position to get legal advice. ‘I just wanted to ask if you and your mother are all right. How did you sleep?’
Tegen shrugged. ‘I didn’t really mind the death. I mean, I’ve seen dead people before. On TV.’
‘That’s not real,’ Guinevere countered. ‘This is.’
‘I know. But somehow it didn’t seem real.’
Guinevere had to agree with her. Her own first thought had been that Haydock was fooling them, playing a part.
Tegen continued, ‘The way he lay there in that stupid robe. Mum said it looked “stately” on him, but I just thought it was stupid. Will there still be a trial re-enactment now? We can ask somebody else to play Branok. Maybe Jago can do it? And Oliver can be judge. He did a good job last night.’ Tegen smiled again, cocking her head.
‘I think that once news of the murder hits the papers, people won’t be eager to come to a re-enactment,’ Guinevere said. ‘And it might be tasteless to continue. Think of Haydock’s family.’
Tegen didn’t seem impressed. ‘We could replace Leah as well. She wasn’t very convincing.’
‘I thought she was quite good,’ Guinevere said, surprised at Tegen’s assessment. ‘You could tell she’s a lawyer in real life.’ She studied Tegen. ‘Your mother was very convincing too. It almost seemed that she and Leah really had some gripe with one another.’
‘What? How? They hardly know each other.’ Tegen cast her an angry look. ‘And you have nothing to do with our play. You can’t decide about the parts. If we want to continue, we will.’
Then her expression brightened. ‘That’s it! You could take Leah’s part. Then the Haydocks are no longer involved, and it won’t be tasteless to continue.’
Guinevere asked, ‘Did you notice anything odd last night? Did Haydock seem worried or afraid? You were talking to him away from the rest.’
‘I was just asking if the robe fit. Mum had fussed with it for ages.’ Tegen’s cheeks turned fiery red. Judging by her recent remark that it had been a stupid garment, this sounded a lot like an impromptu lie.
Guinevere pressed, ‘So you didn’t notice anything different about Haydock?’
Tegen was even redder now. ‘I barely knew him. I never went to his house or saw his family. I don’t even know what cases Leah handles. I suppose she makes a lot of money. Mum is bugging me to get a degree that can get you money. But I want to do something creative, or work with kids. One lawyer in the family is enough.’
‘In the family?’ Guinevere queried.
‘Yes, my brother. He has a degree in business, marketing and stuff, but suddenly he’s going to evening school to get a law degree. I’m not even supposed to know about that. I found out by accident, seeing something on the computer that was meant for Mum.’ Tegen shrugged. ‘Lance never knew what he wanted. He got the marketing degree because two of his friends were doing the same course and he could share a flat with them. Maybe he’s figured out now there’s no money in it and he’s changing his tune?’
Guinevere shifted her weight. She wasn’t really interested in Lance Morgan who hadn’t even been at the castle last night. She wanted to know what Haydock had given to Tegen. Whether they had had an affair. But you couldn’t ask something like that.
If they had, Tegen would never admit it.
If they hadn’t, she would be livid. And justifiably so.
Tegen held the bowl upside down and said to the chickens, ‘All gone, ladies. Now make sure you turn it into the best eggs for our guests. See you later.’
Then she waved Guinevere along. ‘There are some scones in the oven that must be about ready. Come on in, you can have one.’
Guinevere was surprised that Tegen was actually inviting her in to the B&B and wanted to spend more time with her. They didn’t know each other at all, and last night Tegen had seemed like a teenager willing to pick a fight with just about anybody. But maybe the island was a lonely place for her, and she would like some female company?
Through an open door they went into a large kitchen. A sweet scent filled the air.
Dolly saw a basket covered with a cloth in a corner and grabbed the cloth with her mouth, tearing it off the basket. ‘Don’t, girl,’ Guinevere said, as she pulled Dolly back by the collar and then put the cloth back in place over the basket. It held books and papers full of neat handwriting. Guinevere caught the word Branok and treasure. An electric shock of excitement went through her, but she didn’t dare look closer, or Tegen might think she was snooping.
Treasure.
What treasure?
Did it have to do with the secret stash Branok had supposedly hidden? Hadn’t Oliver mentioned Branok had written down directions to find it before he had died?
Tegen dropped the feeding bowl on the table and went to the oven. She almost reached out for the door, then seemed to remember something and fetched an oven glove. It was covered in drawings of plants.
She opened the oven door and pulled out the plate with scones. ‘They’re best when they’re fresh. There’s clotted cream in the fridge. And jam in the cupboard. Help yourself.’
Maybe Tegen was used to guests walking about in the B&B and was treating her in the same way? Guinevere opened the fridge and got the clotted cream out.
Tegen had put the plate on the sink and tried to pick up a scone. ‘Ouch, hot!’
‘It should hurt, young lady.’ Kensa had appeared in the archway that led into another room. Her brows were drawn together, and the shadows under her eyes were even deeper than the other night. ‘Those scones are for the guests, not for you. And what’s that feeding bowl doing on the table? Put it in its proper place.’
‘Yes, Mum.’ Tegen picked up the bowl and placed it on a shelf under the sink.
Kensa stood at the scones now, hovering over them like a protective force.