question as I had done. âCaitâs not really investigating to help Margarita, dear,â he said. âWe all know who killed her.â
âYes, dear, but we donât know why,â was Adaâs sensible reply.
âThatâs what I think I might be able to help with,â I said, maybe a little too quickly. âWere either of you âon the spot,â so to speak?â I asked, knowing the answer.
âOh yes, both of us,â Frank said, smiling. Ada tapped him on the arm. Frankâs face rearranged itself into a more serious expression.
âHow about we sit on the patio and you can tell me about it?â I asked, waving in the general direction of the glazed wall that Iâd folded back on itself to offer almost entirely open access to the garden.
âCan I smoke?â asked Frank hopefully.
âOnly if I can too,â I replied.
Frank brightened. Ada tutted.
âHe doesnât need any encouragement, Cait,â she admonished me. âHim and his cigars. Theyâre all the same around here. In fact, I think itâs why he wanted to come here to live: when Greg told us about the place, he kept going on about how wonderful it was to be able to sit outside and puff on a cigar anytime.â
âGreg?â I hadnât met Greg.
Ada smiled. âOf course, Gregâs in PV today, you wonât have a chance to meet him until this evening. Greg is Greg Hollins. Heâs the one who told us about this place. Lovely man. So tell me, are you single, Cait? Greg is. A bit older than you, of course, but heâs single.â
Adaâs change in topic, and her knowing look when she mentioned that Greg was unmarried, threw me for a moment. I saw Budâs face flash upon what Wordsworth would call âmy inward eye.â
âYes, Iâm single. Totally single,â I replied, with as much conviction as possible.
âWhat, never married?â The look on Adaâs face told me I might as well have been growing a second head. I decided to laugh it off.
âYes, just turned forty-eight and never married, no children, and no boyfriend.â I smiled and waited for the inevitable look of pity that always creeps across the faces of married women with children after I make such a statement.
âGay?â asked Ada brightly, and somewhat surprisingly.
It was Frankâs turn to tut. âJust because she isnât married and doesnât have kids, it doesnât mean sheâs gay. From what Al said earlier on, sheâs made a very successful career for herself. Besides, kidsâwhoâd have âem? Ungrateful littleââ
âThatâs enough, Frank,â said Ada quickly. âI hope I havenât insulted you?â she asked me. The genuine concern on her face deserved a thoughtful response.
âIt happens that Iâm not gay, Ada, but I certainly donât take your question as an insult. And Frank might have a point, my career has been the biggest part of my life. That said, not everythingâs for everybody.â I didnât add that the only person before Bud with whom Iâd ever been in a long-term relationship had turned out to be a sociopathic alcoholic whoâd beaten me and ended up dead on my bathroom floor. Not the time, or the place, Cait .
âAnd now you live in Vancouver?â asked Ada, still bright. I felt as though she was the one pumping me for information, when it should have been the other way around. I resolved to try to move ahead on a more quid pro quo basis.
âDo you know the Lower Mainland?â I thought Iâd check. They both nodded. âI live in a little house on Burnaby Mountain, about half way up, on the way to the University of Vancouverâs Burnaby campus. Thatâs where I teach. I like it very much.â
âBut your accentâs from Britain, isnât it?â asked Ada.
I smiled. âYes, itâs a Welsh accent. Iâm from