The Loner Read Online Free Page A

shop?’
    â€˜That’s a kind thought,’ Jess said.
    Gerry wasn’t convinced. ‘How will that work then?’
    Sandra fetched a large clean jar with a lid. ‘Gill, write a label saying “John Preece’s funeral.”’
    Using a black felt-tip Gill printed large letters. ‘No missing that.’
    Sandra stuck the label on the jar. Then she fetched an A4 lined pad from the shelf, flipped it open and wrote the same words at the top. She passed the pad to Gill.
    â€˜You got a ruler. Draw a line down the page, about there.’ She pointed. ‘Put “Name” on one side and “Amount” on the other. When people see what others have given, they won’t want to look mean.’
    Jess laughed. ‘Good plan, Sandra.’ Taking the pad from Gill she wrote her name and address in block letters, then took a £10 note from her purse and put it in the jar.
    â€˜No need for you to –’ Gill began.
    â€˜Yes, there is. I found him.’
    Sandra set the jar on the counter with the pad in front of it and snapped her fingers at her husband. ‘C’mon, Ger. Open your wallet and let the moths out.’
    â€˜Put me in the poor house, you will,’ he grumbled, but handed over a £10 note.
    Sandra whipped it from his fingers and pushed it into the jar while he wrote on the pad. ‘Right, that’s a start. Gill, don’t you let anyone out that door until they’ve put something in the jar.’
    â€˜How do you expect me to stop them? I’m stuck back here.’
    â€˜You’ll think of something.’ Sandra hurried away to serve a customer.
    â€˜Hard as nails and a heart of gold.’ Gill’s face brightened. ‘I know who’ll find John Preece’s family.’
    â€˜Who?’
    â€˜You, you daft maid.’
    After a light lunch, Jess washed up then sat down at her laptop and looked up the electoral register. John Preece wasn’t listed on it. This didn’t surprise her. Someone so determined to guard his solitude would have opted out.
    She listed what she did know. According to PC Davey’s enquiry he wasn’t registered with the local surgery, and the cottage contained no paperwork. He didn’t have a car or a TV set. He drew his water from a well outside the back door. He had a key card for electricity and charged it once a month paying cash.
    Jess rang the number PC Davey had given her. He wouldn’t be on duty until 2 p.m. on Monday afternoon.
    The following morning Jess phoned Fred Honey, the builder who had renovated her cottage.
    â€˜Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, Fred.’
    â€˜That’s all right, my bird. What’s on?’
    â€˜I’ve got a damp patch at the top of the front wall in my bedroom above the window. I think it was that heavy rain last week. It was hammering on the window.’
    â€˜Prob’ly blew up under the eaves. I’m in the middle of a job so I can’t come meself. Any case, you want a roofer. Colin Terrell isn’t cheap but he do a good job. And he’s local. He lives up Roseveare Meadow. You’ll prob’ly catch him now if you want to give ’n a bell. His wife been awful bad with that there flu virus been going round. ’Ang on a minute, I got his number in me book.’
    Jess wrote it down. ‘Thanks, Fred.’
    â€˜That’s all right, my ‘andsome. All right are you? It must’ve been some nasty shock finding John Preece like that.’
    Of course he would have heard. It would have been all round the village within hours. ‘It was, Fred.’
    â€˜Be some awful shame if his garden is left to go. Mavis said you’re going to find his family.’
    That would have come from Gill. ‘I’ll do my best.’
    Colin Terrell didn’t mind her phoning on a Sunday. ‘Best time to catch me. If I aren’t out for a run, or fishing, I do my paperwork Sundays. I can come Tuesday