Murder in House by Veronica Heley

personal trainer, if you believe the gossip. And yes, there’s Timothy Long-legs. Well, that’s what they called him, some of the time. Dumbo, otherwise. I don’t know why. Nice lad. Perfectly all right, not dumb at all.’
    â€˜Here’s Dan again,’ said Ellie, also collecting scraps. ‘And this one . . . is this the one you called Anthony again? Or his brother? They look alike, don’t they? Are they at teacher training college as well?’
    Mrs Collins snorted. ‘Chance would be a fine thing. There’s money in that family. Silver spoon, know what I mean? What a shame; here’s a lovely picture of Dan but his left arm’s missing. I think that was taken the day they all went on the river last summer. Hired a boat and went up past Henley, all got a bit high, drank too much, someone fell overboard, can’t remember who now, but no harm done, except they all came back red as lobsters from sunburn. Why has he torn them all up?’
    â€˜I expect they remind him of happier times. How did Dan and Ursula come to know this Anthony and Timothy, if they’re so well off, and he isn’t?’
    â€˜School. My husband that was, he paid for the boys to go to a private school at first, which is where Dan met up with the Priors. But then money got tight and our boys had to go to the nearest state school instead, which wasn’t bad at all, let me tell you. That’s where Dan met Ursula. Anthony and his lot, they liked having Dan and Ursula around, and some of my other lads who lodge here as well. My husband that was used to say the private school gave the lads an important start in life, because it was all about who you knew. Maybe he was right.’ Mrs Collins blinked. ‘It didn’t do Lloyd much good though, did it?’
    â€˜Why don’t you keep that good picture of Dan? You could have it enlarged, put it in a frame?’
    Mrs Collins sniffed, but stowed the picture away.
    Ellie said, ‘Do you think Dan will want to keep these pieces? Maybe Ursula would like them to remind her, eventually.’
    â€˜Take them if you like. And tell her from me . . . no, don’t bother. I wouldn’t know what to say. Good luck, perhaps? I suppose I may see her about town some time. She usually comes back for weekends. I only hope my son knows what he’s doing, letting her go like that.’
    â€˜I’ll stick them together and take some copies so if you want one, just give me a ring and I’ll pop one in the post to you.’ She tore a page out of the back of her diary, and wrote down her home phone number for Mrs Collins. ‘By the way, what’s Ursula’s surname, and can you give me her address? Dan said to return the ring to her. Unless you’d like to?’
    â€˜Ursula Belton. It might be best if you did it. She and her mother live in one of those ground floor flats along the Avenue. I’m not sure of the number, but it’s in the first block of flats that you come to on the left after the library.’
    â€˜Anthony, is that you? Dan here. Ursula’s sent me back my ring!’
    â€˜Good riddance. I reckon she’s been looking for an opportunity to dump you for ages. Stuffed-up chick, who did she think she was, anyway? You’re well rid of her.’
    â€˜I don’t see it that way.’
    â€˜Get over it. She never let you have it, did she, little Miss Frigidaire? Well, now you’re free to find out what it’s all about. And once you’ve experienced what a real woman is like, you’ll wonder why you ever stuck with her so long.’
    â€˜I never thought she’d take it so hard. What did you say to her, when she went to see you?’
    â€˜What we’d agreed.’
    â€˜She was different, after that. So angry! I’ve never seen her so angry, not in all the years we’ve known one another. And then she broke down and cried and wanted me to help her find