Janet shut the book again. “I don’t understand it,” she told Aggie.
Aggie shook her head and shut her eyes. “Yeah, that’s how I feel about it, too,” Janet told her.
She picked up the romance that she was halfway through. Romance novels were a guilty pleasure, one that Joan frowned upon, but Janet didn’t really mind. Joan approved only a little bit more of mysteries, with Janet finally recently getting her to read and enjoy Agatha Christie, for whom Aggie had been named. While she’d been rearranging the library, Janet had let mystery books take the best spaces near her favourite chair. Now she was wondering if she ought to rearrange the books again to add some romances to the most conveniently placed shelves.
The romance novels that had already been in the library when they’d bought the house were mostly historical romances. Those weren’t Janet’s favourites, but she was reading through them anyway. Now she found herself lost in Regency England as a Duke and Earl fought over the younger daughter of a lowly farmer. After an hour, she found herself sighing over the ending. “I don’t think the poor girl will have lived happily ever after,” she told her sleeping cat. “His family was never going to accept her, not really. She’d have been better off marrying the young man from the neighbouring farm, even if it did mean she’d have to work hard for the rest of her life.”
Aggie opened one eye and then squeezed it tightly shut again. Janet laughed. “Okay, I won’t bore you with the details,” she said. “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow we have a committee coming to meet in our sitting room. If I were you, I’d hide up here all morning.”
Stuart was at their door at nine, looking anxious. “I never should have offered to host this meeting,” he told Janet as she let him in. “I didn’t sleep at all last night for worrying about today.”
“It’s just a meeting with friends,” Janet said soothingly. “What could possibly go wrong?”
“None of them are friends of mine, exactly,” Stuart said. “I just want everything to go well and for us to be able to salvage our event. We’ve all worked really hard to get to this point. I’d hate to see it all fall apart at the last minute.”
He and Janet walked to the sitting room, where he spent half an hour arranging and rearranging the furniture. “I just don’t know,” he said eventually. “We usually meet at Fred’s house. He has a long dining table where we can sit and meet.”
“You can use the dining room, if you’d like,” Janet said.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Stuart asked, shaking his head. “I knew you had a dining room, but I’ve never been in it,” he added.
“Follow me,” Janet told him.
They walked through the kitchen and into the dining room that adjoined it. A long rectangular table filled most of the space.
“This will be better,” Stuart said.
“It’s easier for me, too,” Joan said. “I can check on you more easily from the kitchen if you’re in here.”
And if I’m in the kitchen, I should be able to overhear the conversation, Janet thought but didn’t say. It wasn’t that she was planning to eavesdrop, exactly, but she wanted to help Joan if necessary, and sound seemed to travel between the two rooms quite easily.
Joan was stacking biscuits onto plates, and Stuart stopped to admire the sweet treats as he crossed back through the kitchen.
“They look wonderful,” he said. “You must let me pay you something for all of the work you’ve put in.”
“I’m sure we aren’t paying you nearly enough for the work you do in the garden,” Joan replied. “Let’s just assume that this makes us closer to even.”
“Thank you,” Stuart said. He walked back into the sitting room with Janet on his heels. In the centre of the room, he stopped and shrugged. “I don’t know what to do with myself,” he told Janet.
“Why don’t you come in the kitchen and have a few biscuits while you wait for the others?” she suggested.
“I’m too nervous to eat,” he replied. He paced around the room for several minutes while Janet watched. She nibbled on the biscuits that she’d snuck out of the kitchen as she tried to work out how to calm the poor man down. It was a few minutes before the hour when the first guest knocked.
“Shall I?” Stuart asked.
“Go ahead,” Janet told him.
Stuart opened the door and greeted the man on the porch. “Fred, glad you could make it,” he said. The man stepped inside.
“Janet, this is Fred Arnold,” Stuart told her.
Janet offered her hand to the man, who looked exactly like a child’s picture book drawing of Father Christmas. His hair was grey and he had a full beard and mustache. His blue eyes twinkled at Janet as he took her hand. “It’s a great pleasure to finally meet you,” he said. “I’ve been hearing about the beautiful and kind Markham sisters since you bought Doveby House, but I haven’t been able to work out an excuse to stop to meet you.”
“You should have stopped anyway. We’d have given you tea and biscuits,” Janet said with a laugh.
“Biscuits?” he asked excitedly. “I don’t suppose we have any for today?”
“Joan baked nearly all day yesterday,” Janet told him. “Stuart, why don’t you two go through to the dining room and I’ll let the rest of the guests in as they arrive?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Stuart asked.
“Not at all,” Janet assured him. “You two go and get yourselves some biscuits and I’ll send everyone else through when they turn up.”
The pair had only just disappeared into the kitchen when someone else knocked.
“Ah, good morning,” the man said when Janet opened the door. “I’m Alvin Jackson. I’m here for the committee meeting.”
“Yes, of course,” Janet said. “Do come in.” She stepped back to let the man into the house. He was nearly bald, and the hair that he did have had been grown long and was combed over his head to try to make it look like he had more hair than he did. As he walked past her Janet noticed that he had something of a potbelly, although he seemed to trying to hold it in as much as he could.
“I haven’t been here in a few years,” he told Janet. “Maggie Appleton and I were good friends, but when I started seeing my current girlfriend she didn’t approve of my relationship with Maggie.” He sighed. “I don’t really like jealous women, but Cindy is perfect in every other way.”
Having no interest whatsoever in the man’s love life, Janet didn’t bother to respond to his words. “The meeting is going to be held in the dining room,” Janet said instead. “If you’d like to follow me?”
Janet was only just walking back into the sitting room when the next knock came. Maybe this would be Winifred, she thought, eager to finally meet the man. Instead, two strangers were standing on the porch.
“Good morning,” the taller of the two said. “I do hope we’re in the right place. We’re looking for Stuart Long.”
“You’re in the right place,” Janet told him. “Do come in.”
The taller man was bald, although he had a large moustache. He was slender, and he was wearing a handsome suit and a fashionable pair of glasses. “I’m Norman Glover,” he told Janet. “And this is my associate, Julian Snyder.”
Julian was shorter and heavier, although not unattractively so. He, too, was wearing a well-made suit. He had a full head of grey hair and green eyes.
“How do you do,” he said politely.
“I’m Janet Markham,” she replied. “My sister and I own Doveby House.”
“It’s a lovely old manor house, isn’t it?” Julian said. “It’s a shame this room isn’t a bit larger. It would be almost perfect for our event if it had a little bit more space.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll be able to find somewhere else that will suit,” Janet said. “Everyone is in the dining room. Let me show you.”
The clock in the corner of the sitting room chimed ten as Janet walked back into the room. She had been hoping to talk to Winifred about Alberta, but she didn
’t want to make him late for his meeting. She paced back and forth several times and then caught herself doing it. You’re as bad as Stuart, she chided herself, dropping into a seat on one of the couches. She glanced through the nearest book so that she wouldn’t watch the clock. When the knock finally came, she was quick to open the door, though.
“I’m late,” the man in the doorway announced. “Look at that,” he demanded as he walked into the house. “It’s already twenty past ten. You wouldn’t believe how bad the traffic was. I was stuck behind the slowest driving you’d ever want to see. I was starting to wonder if I’d ever get here.”
“I’m Janet Markham,” Janet told the man, who looked older than the others. Janet guessed he was somewhere in his seventies. He was short and bald, and he was scowling. “I’ve left a couple of messages on your answering machine. I’d like to speak to you about Alberta Montgomery,” she said, assuming that the man was Winifred Godfrey. He was the only other person expected.
“Such a tragic story,” he said. “Of course, I remember it like it was yesterday. She was such a beautiful woman, but quite overprotected, really. But I’m late. I’m afraid I haven’t time to speak to you right now. Where is the committee meeting?”
“In the dining room,” Janet said. “I can show you.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right,” he replied. “I know my way around Doveby House. I’ve spent many hours in just about every room. I was very fortunate to be able to befriend many of the owners over the years.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked off towards the kitchen. Janet shook her head as he disappeared from sight.
“Don’t hold your breath on befriending the current owners,” she muttered softly. She hadn’t liked the man at all. She followed him, stopping in the kitchen.
“Everyone that was expected is here,” she told Joan.
Joan crossed over to her. “That last man was quite unpleasant,” she whispered. “He stormed through the kitchen as if he thought he owned the place. He didn’t even try to speak to me.”
“He was upset about being late,” Janet said, not sure why she was defending the man. She hadn’t liked him either.
“That doesn’t excuse him from having basic manners,” Joan said.
“Can you hear what’s being said?” Janet asked, looking towards the dining room doorway.
“Only if you stand by the kettle,” Joan told her. She flushed. “I found that out because I was making them tea,” she said quickly.
Janet grinned. She didn’t believe that for an instant. Joan was as nosy as Janet; she was just far more embarrassed about it.
“Ah, Joan, if we could have a bit more tea?” Stuart asked as he appeared in the doorway. “We’re about to start.”
Janet smiled. “I’ll take it through,” she said, picking up the teapot that Joan had ready. She made her way around the table, pouring tea for each guest.
“I’d prefer coffee,” Winifred said stiffly when she reached his place.
“Certainly,” Janet said, forcing herself to keep smiling.
“We don’t want to make too much work for Janet and Joan,” Stuart said anxiously. “They’re letting us use their home for our meeting. The tea and biscuits are a bonus.”
“I can easily get coffee for Mr. Godfrey,” Janet said. “And anyone else who would prefer it?”
The others all shook their heads. It only took a moment for Janet to fill a cup from the pot that Joan had made earlier. She carried it in and set it on the table in front of the local historian.
“I think we can call the meeting to order,” Stuart said nervously.
“Not while there are people present who aren’t committee members,” Winifred snapped.
Janet flushed. “I’ll get out of the way, then,” she said as politely as she could manage. As she walked out of the room, Stuart tried again.
“I’ll officially call the meeting to order at ten twenty-five,” he said.
Chapter 3
Joan had settled in at the kitchen table, in the chair closest to the dining room.
“That isn’t your normal seat,” Janet teased as she went and stood by the kettle.
“I want to be close by if they need anything,” Joan told her.
Janet grinned but didn’t reply. She could hear the voices quite clearly from where she was standing. No doubt Joan would be able to hear them as well.
“I believe the first order of business is the relocation of the event,” Stuart began.
“Yes, that is a serious problem,” Julian’s smooth voice replied.
“Doveby House was suggested, but as you’ve all seen as you came in, it simply isn’t large enough,” Stuart said.
“I believe I said that when it was first mentioned.” Janet made a face when she recognised Winifred’s voice.
“Actually, you were the one who suggested it,” a cheery voice that Janet thought was Fred’s replied.
“I don’t believe that’s correct,” Winifred snapped.
“Let’s not argue,” Norman said firmly. “Doveby House won’t do. What other options are there?”
“I’ve been in touch with the Little Burton Community Centre,” Fred said. “They’re happy to let us use the space for a small fee, but it isn’t exactly elegant. It’s just a big hall with basketball hoops at each end, actually.”
“That won’t do,” Winifred said sharply. “This is a very important event and we can’t have it ruined by having it somewhere ghastly like that.”
“So where do you suggest?” Fred asked.
“I thought perhaps we could use the French restaurant here in Doveby Dale. It’s beautiful and would set just the right tone,” Winifred said.
“Have you rung to them to find out about availability?” Norman asked.
“I have,” Winifred said. “Unfortunately, as it is rather short notice, they won’t be able to accommodate us.”
“Perhaps we should focus on actual possibilities,” Julian said. “While your efforts are greatly appreciated, I’m not sure it’s worth taking up time during the meeting with discussing places that won’t work.”
“Yeah, I mean, the list of them is considerably longer than the list of places that might,” Alvin said.
“Does anyone else have any other suggestions?” Norman asked.
After a long moment, Julian spoke. “It seems that the community centre in Little Burton, no matter how unsuitable, is our only option, then.”
“I’m sure we can do better,” Winifred said.
“The event is on Friday,” Julian pointed out. “Today is Monday, which means we have only a few days to publicise the evening and get the tickets sold. Norman and Fred have done an incredible job in securing items for the auction. Now we need to make sure we have an audience to bid on them.”
“And the right sort of audience,” Winifred added. “We need to invite charitable people who will give generously, not the usual sort who attend events in Doveby Dale and Little Burton.”
“I think the price of the tickets will help people to understand the nature of the event,” Norman said.
“We’ll have to spend more money on decorating if we’re going to use the community centre,” Stuart said. “And I think I’ll probably need some extra help. I wasn’t envisioning having to do all that much, but the community centre will need a great deal of work if we’re going to make it look sophisticated and elegant.”
“Well, I won’t be able to help,” Winifred said. “I’m far too busy right now.”
“I might be able to give you a hand,” Fred said. “When were you planning on decorating?”
“I’ll have to ring the community centre and find out when we can get access,” Stuart replied. “They may have other events as late as Friday afternoon, I suppose.”
“I’m afraid Julian and I will be in London until just before time for everything to start on Friday,” Norman said. “I wish we could help, but I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job.”
“What’s the budget
for decorating?” Stuart asked.
The short silence that followed had Janet and Joan exchanging glances. Poor Stuart is going to get stuck paying for everything, Janet thought to herself.
“Julian and I have brought several boxes of things that we have left over from previous events,” Norman said eventually. “Why don’t you go through all of that and then see what else you think you need. You’ll want to take a good look at the space before you buy anything, of course.”
“Where are the boxes?” Stuart asked.
“In the boot of my car,” Julian replied. “We can unload them after the meeting.”
“So if that’s the location agreed on, we can get the tickets printed, right?” Alvin asked.
“Yes, I don’t see any reason why not,” Norman replied.
“I’ll ring the printer as soon as we’re done. I’m hoping he can do a rush order and we’ll be able to have the tickets by the end of today,” Alvin said.
“And you’ll be able to distribute them?” Julian asked.
“Yes, I can drop them off to everyone once they’re done,” Alvin agreed.
“And you’re each going to sell thirty-five tickets,” Norman said. “That should be about the right amount of guests.”
“I don’t believe I can sell that many tickets,” Winifred said. “I thought it was twenty-five each, anyway.”
“I think thirty-five each is a better target,” Norman said. “I’m sure the community centre can accommodate a few extra guests, and the more guests, the more money we can generate to help with the fight against cancer.”
“As long as it’s just a target,” Winifred replied. “I was struggling to work out to whom I was going to sell twenty-five tickets. An extra ten is impossible.”
“Oh, come now,” Julian said. “You’ve lived in Doveby Dale for seventy-five years. You must know hundreds of people. And I’m sure they all would be delighted to be given an opportunity to help in the battle against our most deadly enemy. I’m not saying it won’t be work, but it shouldn’t be too difficult.”
The Jackson Case Page 2
