by JJ Marsh
Bridesmaid first, detective second.
If only for today, just let it go.
Gaia was dead. Will was alive. She herself had done what Matthew asked and passed her information to the correct authorities. It was pointless and self-destructive to get upset because the outcome was unsatisfactory. It was over.
The thought occurred to her that she would need to address the counselling situation. Part of her was itching to call James but she had to wait till after Christmas. Her urgency was less driven by her mental stability and more by gleeful vindication. I did try, James, but since the counsellor you chose for me was a murderous sociopath, I have no choice but to continue my treatment with you.
No need to be petty, said her conscience. She ignored it.
Time to get back to the party. She picked up her handbag, checked her hair and sighed. No hairdresser in living memory had managed to make it behave for more than a few hours and today was no exception. She opened the door and came face to face with a short blonde woman her own age.
“Hello, Beatrice.”
“Hello, Pam.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was hard not to stare. Pam’s features, as familiar to Beatrice as a sister’s, had aged and sagged over the decades. As had her own. Looking into each other’s eyes was a curiously powerful experience.
Pam gave a tight smile. “I knew you’d be here today. Thought I’d come and say hello,” said Pam. “Do you have a minute? I know you’re busy.” She indicated the Chesterfield Beatrice had fancied earlier.
“Yes, of course. As a matter of fact, I could do with a break.”
Pam led the way and they seated themselves on the sofa, knees angled towards each other. Beatrice placed her handbag on her lap, changed her mind and placed it on the floor.
“How are you?” Pam asked, folding her hands on her knees.
“Very well, generally speaking. Today’s been quite emotional on top of an exhausting week. What about yourself?”
“I’m fine. Usual pre-Christmas stress, but nothing out of the ordinary.”
The silence expanded, somehow intensified by the hum of happy chatter from the wedding guests in the opposite room.
Beatrice swallowed. She was awfully thirsty. “I understand you manage events here. It’s a lovely place.”
“It is. I count myself lucky every morning when I come to work. And you? From what I hear, you have retired?”
“Yes. The Met got its money’s worth out of me. In the last few years, I came to see I was no longer up to the job. Too old, tired and jaded.”
Pam gave her the once-over. “You don’t look it to me. You still seem full of vim and vinegar.”
Wondering if she’d misheard, Beatrice didn’t reply for a moment. When she did, she chose her words carefully. “Believe me, in the last few cases I investigated, I simply didn’t pass mustard.”
Pam’s lips twitched. “It must be such a stressful job. With the whole world going to hell in a handbag, I often wonder how police officers cope.”
“Sometimes they don’t. You can only make a pig’s rear of it so many times before handing over to the next generation.”
The front doors opened and a pack of children came running across the foyer, making for the dining room. Luke skidded to a halt in front of them. “Hello-Beatrice-hello-Grandma-can-I-go-in-the-maze?”
Pam reached out to smooth back his fringe. “Hello, Luke. I think Beatrice and I would say you should ask your mum. You look very hot to be running about in the snow.”
“I am hot. Can I take this off?” He tugged at his tie.
“Give it to me. You look very smart today. Doesn’t he, Beatrice?”
“Dashing, I’d say. His performance as ring-bearer was terrific.”
Luke looked over his shoulder in impatience. “So can I go in the maze or what?”
“It’s not up to us,” said Beatrice. “If your mum says it’s OK, you can go.”
Luke dashed away, colliding with one of Adrian’s cousins on her way to the bathroom. She was none too steady on her pins to begin with and clutched the door jamb for support after the small whirlwind had passed.
Pam rolled up his tie and handed it to Beatrice. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. That boy should be able to have his extended family present at birthdays and school plays and so on. Trying to keep the pair of us apart is a strain on the girls as well. Time we forgot our differences and behaved like grown-ups. What do you think?”
“I think that would make the lives of our loved ones a great deal easier. Shall we shake on it? To civilised behaviour.”
Pam took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. Their eyes met for a moment. Then the door to the dining room opened as another guest walked towards the entrance with a packet of cigarettes in hand.
“I must go.” Pam stood up. “Have fun today.”
“Thank you, Pam. It was good to see you. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Beatrice.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tanya was a touch dishevelled, her hair coming out of its pins and her face flushed. She wandered over to their table, a happy grin on her face, and flung her arms around Adrian and Will’s shoulders.
“Best wedding ever. Best grooms ever. I’ve had such a lovely day and you two gave the best speeches. So did your best man.” She looked over at Will’s brother, who was explaining something to Catinca with the aid of a pepper pot and flower arrangement. “Is he single?” she asked.
“This week, yes. So make your move now,” said Will. “It has been a perfect day, I agree. Everyone played their parts perfectly. Both mothers cried...”
Adrian interrupted, “Not to mention Beatrice.”
“OK, so all our ‘mothers’ cried. Luke was a little star, the food was excellent and it stopped snowing long enough for us to get the photographs. The cake was on the heavy side, but I’ll be working that off on the dance floor later tonight.”
“See, I usually hate weddings, but this one? Gorgeous!” Tanya sighed.
“Mum?” Luke ran up to their table, equally flushed as Tanya but not for the same reasons, Adrian hoped.
Tanya hadn’t heard her son’s urgent appeal. “You’re going to make each other very happy, I can see that already. Hark at me, getting all sentimental.”
“Mum!” Luke insisted.
“Hello, my darling boy. You did a brilliant job today. Not a foot wrong.”
Will agreed. “For a first-time ring-bearer, you knocked it out of the park.”
“Good job, Luke and thank you,” said Adrian. “We’ll bring you a present back from the Caribbean.”
Luke nodded but his attention was elsewhere. “Can I go with the others into the maze? Mum? Can I?”
“It’s freezing out there, Lukey. You’ll have to put a coat on. And where’s your tie? I’m not sure it’s safe for kids to go into the maze. Who are the others, anyway?”
“Them!” He pointed across the room. Four children of various ages waited by the door. “That’s Jason and Hadley and ... the other two. We won’t be long. Come on, Mum!”
“They’re my cousins’ kids,” said Adrian. “I trust them.”
“Oh OK then. But put your coat on and if you’re longer than fifteen minutes, I’m coming to fetch you.” Tanya ran her hand through his damp hair. “Where have you done with your tie?”
“I gave it to Grandma.” Luke was straining to get out of his mother’s grasp.
Tanya frowned. “Grandma?”
“He probably means Beatrice,” offered Adrian. “That’s the role she’s playing today.”
Luke tugged away from Tanya. “Grandma’s got it. I was too hot and she said I could take my tie off. So I did and gave it to her.”
Will leant his forearms on his knees to talk to Luke. “Do you mean Beatrice? Because your grandma isn’t here today.”
“She is!” Luke was indignant. He poked a finger in the direction of the foyer. “Us lot were out there playing and I saw her talkin
g to Beatrice. That’s when I gave her my tie.”
Adrian scanned the room. Matthew, now seated next to Marianne, was chatting to one of Will’s police colleagues. There was no sign of Beatrice Stubbs.
“Can I go, Mum, please, can I?” asked Luke.
Tanya released his hand and he peeled off towards the waiting children, doing a fist pump all the way across the room.
The tension at the top table had caught attention from other tables. Marianne laid a hand on Matthew’s arm and they both stared at the two grooms. Conversations ground to a halt as Adrian, Will and Tanya glanced wide-eyed at one another and back to the double doors. Catinca leant past Will’s brother to hiss, “What is it?”
Adrian was about to open his mouth to reply when the double doors opened. A figure stood back to allow a pack of children to rush outside. Facing the silent, curious crowd stood Beatrice Stubbs. Alone.
“What? Did I miss the cake?”
Chapter Thirty
At half past eight on Christmas Day, Beatrice Stubbs was wide awake. A gap in the curtains allowed a shaft of sunshine to creep across the room, along the carpet, over the sleeping dog and onto the bed, where a large snoring heap showed no signs of rousing. Slipping out of bed, she pulled back the curtains. The snow had finally stopped, the day was crisp and bright as fresh bread and blue skies glowed with promise.
She turned back to the bed. Huggy Bear sat up in her basket and stretched, her toothy grin already in place. Beatrice pulled something from the bedside cabinet, got back into bed and blew in Matthew’s ear till he opened his eyes.
“What? Why are you bothering me at this godforsaken hour? Close those curtains and go back to sleep.”
“Merry Christmas!!!”
“Hmmph.” He rolled away from her and pulled the duvet up over his head.
“Matthew, it’s practically nine o’clock and I’m awake.”
“That much is obvious. Take the dog out and leave me in peace.”
“Open your stocking first.”
Matthew squinted at her over his shoulder. “Presents after breakfast. That is the rule.”
“This is not a present, it’s your Christmas stocking, to be opened in bed.”
With a groan, Matthew sat up, rubbing his eyes. Beatrice handed him an oversized sock in garish colours. The weight of it clunked against his knee.
“Why do I...”
“Just open it!” Beatrice hugged her arms.
Several seconds later, and far more slowly than Beatrice would have liked, Matthew tore away the brown paper to reveal a brand-new Moka coffee pot. He kissed her with a laugh. “Thank you, Old Thing. I shall put this to use in the very near future.”
“I rather hoped you might.” Beatrice flung back the covers. “Come on, Huggy Bear, I’ve got something for you too and it’s just your colour. Walkies!”
Every Christmas, Bailey and Stubbs maintained their own favourite traditions. A large and indulgent breakfast (Matthew), personal present-giving (Beatrice) and a brisk walk into the village for a pint at the pub (both), before lunch with all the trimmings (mostly Matthew). Whether the girls could join them or not – alternate years for each parent – Matthew and Beatrice always made the most of December the 25th. Somehow this year had an extra significance.
They now had the animals, of course. And it was their year to host the girls and Luke, which made it more of an occasion. But the biggest difference was that Beatrice was not joining in as a mere guest, but a permanent resident. A local.
After an hour scampering in the snow, woman and dog returned, exhilarated, wet and hungry. The scent of kippers and fresh coffee wafted into the hall as Beatrice took off her boots and dried the terrier. She went into the conservatory to water Will and Adrian’s white rosebush, a wedding gift from Rose and Maggie, which was still in its sacking container till the ground thawed outside. The happy couple, lacking a garden, had decided to plant it at Beatrice and Matthew’s cottage, just beside the back door. Beatrice was delighted. She would be able to see it through the kitchen window and every time she did, she would be reminded of the boys and their wonderful wedding.
The strains of St John’s Passion filled the kitchen and the sun shone from a sky so blue it could be Greek. Even though it was Christmas, Beatrice observed her rituals. She fed the dog, trotted upstairs, wrote in her diary and took her stabiliser. Then she thundered downstairs for coffee and kedgeree.
On Beatrice’s insistence, Matthew wore his new jumper to the pub for their lunchtime drink. It was a cable knit with leather elbows, precisely the sort Vaughan would have deemed ‘Old Fart’. But Vaughan wasn’t here to judge and Matthew looked most distinguished in royal blue. The public bar at The Angel was crowded and good-humoured, largely due to Gordon’s Christmas Cup. Frankie and Susie managed the bar while the merry landlord offered a free glass of punch to each guest.
Beatrice greeted various villagers as she wove her way through the throng, on her mission to find Gabriel Shaw. Something clamped onto her leg and she looked down to see Luke, in an elf hat. He reached up for her hand and dragged her to the fireside, where Tanya sat in conversation with the very man she’d been looking for.
“Merry Christmas!” Tanya jumped up for a hug and a kiss.
Beatrice turned to Gabriel. “My knight in shining Land Rover! I want to buy you a drink and you may not refuse me. What are you drinking?”
“Merry Christmas, DI Stubbs. That’s very kind. I’ll have a pint of Tanglefoot.”
“I’m not buying you a drink unless you call me Beatrice.”
He laughed, his face even better looking as he relaxed. “All right, Beatrice it is. I’ll call you anything you like so long as I get my beer. How’s the dog settling in?”
“To be honest, I don’t know what we did without her. She’s over there somewhere with Matthew. Luke, you want some more juice? And I don’t need to ask Tanya what she’s drinking on Christmas morning.”
“At least I’m consistent. Gabriel even gave me a bottle as a Christmas present. Hey, there’s Marianne.” Tanya waved at her sister to join them.
Assisted by Luke, Beatrice went to the bar and waited till Frankie had finished serving Demelza Price and her sisters their gin and tonics before giving her order.
“You’re not trying Dad’s Christmas punch, Beatrice?”
“No fear. I’ve not forgotten what happened last time he persuaded me to try a glass. I’ll stick to Prosecco with the girls.” She felt a tug on her arm and looked down into a pair of hopeful blue eyes. “Oh and a packet of cheese and onion, please.”
Frankie handed the crisps over to Luke. “Here you go, Santa’s Little Helper!”
Mission accomplished, Luke gave them both the thumbs-up and opened the packet.
“Did the boys get away OK?” asked Frankie, pulling the draught pump towards her and filling a pint glass with a golden liquid Beatrice quite fancied.
“Last thing I heard they were in the First Class Lounge at Gatwick. I’m not sure either of them had any sleep. They were both buzzing with excitement and Adrian was still issuing orders.”
“I miss them. Without those two and Catinca, the place feels empty. Especially after Rose and Maggie left yesterday afternoon.” Frankie placed the drinks on the bar. “You take these and I’ll bring the rest over to you. I want to come and say hello to Tanya.”
Beatrice stopped to greet Heather Shaw and pointed out one very happy terrier sitting at Matthew’s heel as he chatted to Mungo.
“Makes my day to see them rehomed and happy. Thank you; Beatrice, you’re very good. How did the wedding go on Sunday? I heard it was quite the spectacle.”
“It was beautiful. A day I’ll never forget. Everything was as we’d imagined and I cried more times than I can count.” She looked at her watch. “If my time zones are correct, they should be landing in the Caribbean for their honeymoon about now.”
“Aw, bless them. I wish them every happiness. Has Will remembered anything about the incident in Appleford?”
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“No. I don’t think we’ll ever get to the bottom of that. I just thank our lucky stars Susie knew where to look.”
Heather didn’t reply, her focus on the landlady behind the bar. Susie caught her eye and a look passed between the two women Beatrice could not interpret. There was a defiance in Susie’s jaw as Heather’s stare bored into her. Then Frankie broke the moment by calling her mother to fetch more ice. Heather recovered herself and raised her glass of punch.
“Have a lovely Yuletide, Beatrice!”
Beatrice chinked her glass with the schoolteacher and returned to the fireside. When she got back to their little group, Frankie was sitting on the arm of Gabriel’s chair, laughing at one of Tanya’s stories. Beatrice poured the fizz and observed their body language. Frankie was leaning in, her leg touching Gabriel’s, her lovely face lit up by her smile. But Gabriel’s attention was one hundred percent on Tanya and the look in his eyes was quite unmistakeable.
“Here we are. Proseccos all round and one pint of Tanglefoot.”
Gabriel gave her his slow smile. “Thanks, Beatrice. Merry Christmas to you.”
“Merry Christmas!” They chinked glasses and drank. Beatrice spotted the red liquid in Marianne’s glass. “You’re not on Gordon’s Christmas Cup, are you? That stuff is rocket fuel.”
Marianne’s cheeks were already glowing and she giggled. “Can’t deny it’s got a kick to it. What does he put in it, Frankie?”
“You don’t want to know. Mind, I think he toned it down this time after what happened on St Nicholas Day.”
Tanya shrieked with laughter. “That was priceless! Remember the Morris dancers? They got absolutely plastered!”
“They weren’t the only ones. Didn’t certain people join in the dancing?” Gabriel grinned at Beatrice.
“Don’t remind me. Flailing around on the village green with a hanky in each hand at my age? I still can’t believe I did that,” Beatrice groaned.
“I can. It was hilarious!” Frankie laughed. “And St Nicholas himself threw up on his fake beard. It was like Armageddon!”
Beatrice joined in the laughter but spotted an opportunity. “It was a day we won’t forget, that’s for sure. But I don’t remember seeing you there, Frankie. I thought you hadn’t been back since the summer.”
