Doreen looked down at her hands. “I tried to persuade her to leave. If not to study, at least to work somewhere else, even if it was just Oxford or Cheltenham. But she said she wouldn’t leave Dennis and Zoe.”

Doreen slowly shook her head. “I should have offered to have Zoe live with me, but I doubt she would have done. She blamed me for leaving them. She didn’t understand what I went through married to Dennis.”

“When did you leave?” Keya asked.

“Eight years ago. I met a salesman at one of the holiday cottages I cleaned. I thought I was escaping my life here but, in reality, it was just another abusive relationship and when he hit me, well, that was the final straw. I walked out. But I had nowhere to go.”

Doreen smiled sadly at Keya. “I thought Dennis would have me back, but he’s a stubborn one. After a couple of weeks at the pub, I was running out of money. That’s when Sir Anthony offered me a job at the mill, and as it came with this pokey cottage, I agreed.”

Keya glanced around. She actually thought there was more room here than in the cottage where Dennis and Zoe lived.

“And you returned?” Keya enquired, her pen poised over her notebook.

“As I said, four years ago. I thought I’d sort things out with Dennis, but here I am, still packing flour at the mill and seeing less and less of my girls. And Daisy …”

Doreen caught herself before continuing in a stiff voice, “She did well for herself and moved into Mill House when Dennis chucked her out. And last year she opened the bakery. She was going places.”

Keya couldn’t decide if Doreen was happy or resentful of Daisy’s success. She remembered how Doreen had flinched when she’d said the word ‘relationship’.

Doreen continued, “Meanwhile, Zoe is in the clutches of the two witches, and I can’t seem to do anything about it.”

“Witches?” Constable Skinner queried.

“I presume you mean Aurora and Viv?” Keya added quickly.

“I do.” Doreen folded her arms.

“And you and Daisy? How well did you get on?”

“Fine.” Doreen sat back and crossed her arms.

“Had the two of you had an argument, or fallen out about anything?”

“Who told you that? They’re lying.”

“Nobody,” Keya reassured her. She thought she’d better move the interview on to the unpleasant topic of Daisy’s death. “Mrs Skinner, Doreen, do you know anyone who’d want to hurt Daisy?”

“Hurt her?” cried Doreen. “Of course not.”

“But someone might have been jealous of her living in the big house, with Sir Anthony’s nephew, and opening the bakery. She was doing well for herself, as you pointed out. And the garden …”

“You’ve been speaking to Dora, haven’t you?” Doreen narrowed her eyes.

“We met her up at the standing stones.”

“She was jealous of Daisy. But then, like me, she lives in a pokey cottage while Daisy lives, lived,” choked Doreen, “at the big house. And she had plans for it. She was going to completely redecorate it. She’d already redesigned most of the garden. Oh, and it is a lovely garden going down to the stream. All I have here are a few flagstones and the trees shade the evening sun.”

“And Dora was jealous?”

“Furious, although you wouldn’t know it. She’s very good at hiding her feelings and pretending to be everyone’s helpful friend. But I don’t blame her. She misses her family. She and her dad were together a long time. And I can understand how she feels.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

When Doreen returned to stories of Daisy’s idyllic childhood, Keya decided it was time to leave.

“Thank you, Doreen, but we need to continue our investigation,” Keya said, standing up.

Doreen remained seated, and she looked paler as she asked, “Do you really think someone hurt Daisy?”

“We don’t know, and until we do, we have to continue the investigation in a professional manner.” Keya hoped she sounded reassuring rather than bureaucratic.

She wasn’t sure she did as Doreen’s eyes began to water, and her chin quivered.

“There’s no need to get up,” Keya said quickly. “We can show ourselves out.”

Outside, in the fresh air, Constable Sparrow said, “It must be awful as a mum to lose your daughter.”

Keya nodded. “I think some people believe it’s easier when they are grown up, and no longer a child, but I suspect the sense of loss is just as strong.”

Keya’s phone pinged, and she checked her messages.

“It’s Ryan,” she said. “He wants us to find any electronic equipment Daisy had, like a tablet or laptop. Which means we do need to visit her home. Let’s see if it’s the building you spotted earlier.”

Returning to Keya’s police car, they drove a hundred metres up the road until they arrived at a large two-storey stone house. A climbing yellow rose bush was in bloom on the wall beside the front door, which was painted a slightly lighter shade of yellow.

Keya pushed open a wooden garden gate and walked up the short flagstone path to the front door. Beside it, a cream oval plaque said simply ‘Mill House’.

“This is the right one, then,” Constable Sparrow confirmed beside her.

Failing to find a doorbell, Keya rapped on the door with a black knocker in the shape of a sheaf of wheat.

It was some time before the crumpled figure of Theo Watson opened the door.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Keya said, and this time her voice was sincere. “But we need to look through Daisy’s things. In particular, we need any electronic items.”

Without saying a word, Theo turned and walked back inside the house.

Keya and Constable Sparrow followed him, and the young constable stopped and closed the front door.

An antique looking red carpet ran across the flagstone floor in the hall.

“Her laptop and tablet should be in there,” Theo said, inclining his head towards an open doorway.

“And her phone is upstairs on the bedside table. Are you OK sorting yourselves out?”

“Of course,” Keya replied, hiding her satisfaction at being able to look around the property by herself.