by Agatha Frost
"Where did you say you were going after here?" Julia asked Sue as she set the tray down on the table.
"Mulberry Lane," Sue replied after licking her lips for a final time. "In fact, I'm going to go now before the baby shop shuts. The boutique is usually too expensive for me, but they posted about a sale online, and you know I love a sale."
"I might tag along," Julia said, her eyes going blank as she vanished into her thoughts. "I think it's time I paid Harriet Barnes a little visit. Gran, do you mind watching the café for fifteen minutes?"
"Well, I was actually just about to go -"
"I'll be back before you know it," Julia said, diving in to kiss her gran on the top of the head. "Thank you. You're a star."
Before Dot could argue, Julia grabbed her coat and bag and left the café with Sue and the twins following right behind.
Mulberry Lane was the shopping hub of Peridale. It dated back to the 1700s, and aside from the modern displays in the windows, the street was relatively unchanged. The rooftops were sagging, the buildings were twisted, and the roads were still cobbled, but it had an unmistakable authentic charm. At the bottom of the winding street stood Julia and Sue's father's antique barn, but that was not where they were going today.
"Are you going to interview her?" Sue asked giddily as they made their way to Pretty Petals. "Slip some truth serum into her tea to get her to confess to murdering that builder bloke."
"You watch too much TV," Julia replied, glad when she noticed Harriet behind the counter. "You should hurry to the baby shop before it shuts."
"But I wanted to eavesdrop," Sue begged. "See my wonderful big sister in action."
"I'm just going to ask her a few questions," Julia said as she pushed Sue further down the street. "I'll probably be out before you are."
Sue mumbled something under her breath as she reluctantly plodded across the cobbled road towards the baby boutique with the twins. Julia turned her attention to the display of crinkled roses in the window, which looked like an out-dated display from the previous week's Valentine's Day celebration. Had Harriet really been too busy with the protest to focus on her shop?
Julia pushed the door, the tiny bell signalling her arrival. Harriet glanced over her glasses, but she quickly looked back at the wreath she was crafting when she saw that it was Julia.
"I wondered when I'd be seeing you," Harriet mumbled through the pencil that was clamped in the side of her mouth. "I thought you would’ve come sooner."
"You did?" Julia replied as she weaved through the floral displays towards the counter. "Did Evelyn predict my visit?"
"Let's not play games, Julia," Harriet said as she plucked the pencil out of her mouth to scribble something in the open book on the counter. She slotted the pencil into the silver bun on the back of her head before resuming her work on the wreath. "If you've come to prod and poke me about the murder, you're wasting your time. I don't know anything, and I have two funerals, a wedding, and a Bar Mitzvah to prepare flowers for."
Julia watched as Harriet's fingers hastily worked, snipping the stems of flowers to create the 'DAD' lettering on the wreath. She wondered if she should turn around and leave, but her questions had collected during the walk from the café.
"My reputation precedes me more than I'd like," Julia said jokingly. "I'm not here to accuse you of anything."
"But you're not here to buy flowers either, are you?" Harriet replied with a knowing smile. "Ask me what you want and make it quick. I have nothing to hide, and a list of orders to get through, and believe me, my clients are a lot scarier than you, Julia South."
Julia laughed, but it came out sounding awkward and stiff. She had always liked Harriet's forthrightness and ability to speak her mind but being on the receiving end was a different experience than admiring it from a distance. The phrase 'doth the lady protest too much?' sprung to mind as Harriet's fingers continued to work. Deciding to stop beating around the bush, Julia pulled her phone out of her bag and retrieved the picture she had snapped at the building site. She squinted at the fuzzy image. Double tapping on the photo zoomed her in, but the roses were barely distinguishable from the rubble.
"Have you seen these before?" Julia asked, turning the phone around. "They're roses with a card from your shop that were left at the building site after Shane died."
"What am I looking at?" Harriet snapped as she peered over her glasses. "It looks like a burnt lasagne."
"It's a dozen roses," Julia said with a sigh as she pocketed her phone. "With a card from your shop, left on the exact spot where Shane's body was found. The card read 'I'm sorry. I love you'."
Harriet peered over her spectacles at Julia, an amused smirk on her lips. She half-rolled her eyes before coughing and continuing on with her work.
"Is that all you've got?" Harriet chuckled with a shake of her head. "Look around you, Julia. It was Valentine's Day last week. Before you ask who bought a dozen roses recently, ask yourself how many bouquets of roses you think I might have sold this Valentine's Day. Twenty? Thirty? Last I checked, it was closer to fifty. And how many of those people do you think paid in cash, leaving no trace of who bought them? Heck, I'd even let you sift through the card orders if you really wanted to, even though we both know that's against the data protection laws, but be my guest. And last time I checked, it wasn't illegal to leave flowers at the site where somebody died. In fact, it's very common and polite to do so, but I suppose in your narrowed sleuthing vision, everything is a clue, right?"
Julia's head recoiled into her neck, her eyes wide as she soaked in the barrage of words Harriet had just laid on her. If she was a more prideful woman, she might have bitten back, but as it were, she listened to the logical voice in her mind. She inhaled deeply, soaked in what Harriet had just said, and smiled.
"You're right," Julia replied. "You're absolutely right about every single thing you just said."
"Then are you done?" Harriet asked, plucking her pencil from her hair again to scribble something else in her book. "Because you've already got me behind."
Julia scrambled through her questions, most of which had revolved around trying to suss out who had left the flowers. She remembered what her gran had said and felt a renewed sense of control over her thoughts.
"I heard you arranged a protest meeting for the morning Shane's body was discovered," Julia began. "I happened to be there, and you didn't show up."
"I was sick."
"You seem fine now."
"It was one of those twenty-four-hour things."
"So, when did you arrange the meeting?" Julia asked, narrowing her eyes on Harriet. "That morning? The night before? What time exactly?"
"Around four in the afternoon the day before," Harriet replied, her hands stopping for the first time since Julia arrived. "Why does that matter?"
"Oh, I'm sure it doesn't," Julia said airily. "It's just, by my estimations, and I'm sure the autopsy will reveal something similar, I think Shane died between six that night and seven the next morning. Where were you between those times?"
"At home," Harriet answered quickly without a second thought. "Like I said, I was sick."
"For twenty-four hours," Julia replied with a nod. "I see. And were you home alone?"
"I was with my cat," Harriet said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I didn't leave my cottage all night, and I went to bed around eight. Like I said, I wasn't feeling well. The reason I didn't turn up to the meeting was because I didn't wake up. I took some medicine that knocked me right out, and when I did finally wake up around noon, it was because people kept phoning me about the murder."
Julia nodded and took in the information. They both knew it was the furthest thing from a concrete alibi. Without any other witnesses besides a cat, Harriet would not be able to prove that she was home or even feeling sick. Julia could push it, but she decided to change gears.
"And you've cancelled the protest because of the murder?" Julia pressed. "Or, that's what my gran said, at least."
"Wel
l, yes," Harriet said with an uncertain nod. "More or less. I didn't realise how much time I'd been putting into the petition, and I'd let my orders slip behind."
"So, you're happy to see the new building going up?"
"Of course I'm not!" Harriet cried. "But there's not a lot I can do about it now, is there?"
"And you thought you could do a lot on the morning of the demolition with the digger already there?"
Harriet's icy stare flickered for a moment as she tuned into the same frequency Julia was operating on. Her spine stiffened, and her lips tightened. She picked up a flower, aggressively snipped off the stem, and continued with her work.
"I really need to get on," Harriet said, her earlier arrogance evaporating. "I can't tell you any more than I already have. I'm telling you the truth, and if you don't believe me, I don't care. The police haven't visited me, so they obviously have nothing on me. You're barking up the wrong tree here, Julia, and you know it."
Julia knew that she might be, but Harriet had not managed to rule herself out. In fact, she had made Julia more suspicious than when she had first entered the shop. Considering what Harriet had just said, Julia turned and left the shop in time to meet up with Sue as she exited the boutique with handfuls of stuffed bags hanging off the pram’s handles.
"I think I bought everything in their size!" Sue exclaimed enthusiastically. "She wasn't lying when she said it was a sale. Did you extract anything juicy from Harriet?"
"Time will tell," Julia said as she walked beside Sue back towards her café. "I'm not ruling anything out just yet."
7
The next day after closing the café and dropping another cake off at the B&B, Julia found herself taking a cancelled order of twenty cupcakes to the building site. When she arrived, the builders were enjoying a break after pouring the concrete foundations thanks to the dry weather. With Barker's cottage completely gone, the rubble cleared, and the outline of Candy's extravagant house in place, it looked like a different plot of land entirely.
Julia approached the builders, glad to see Billy and Alfie chatting to each other like old friends. When she approached, both of them looked nervous, but she guessed for different reasons.
"Leftover cupcakes from the café," she announced. "I thought you boys might appreciate them."
The builders cheered their thanks as she passed the box around, letting them take as many as they wanted. When they had finished, she left the box with Billy and walked across the building site to Candy and Mikey who were having a spirited conversation while staring at a broad blueprint. Their yellow hardhats and work boots clashed with their stylish clothes and model features, making them look like they were dressing up for an editorial photo shoot rather than a hard day of labour.
"It just looks so much smaller than we planned!" Candy cried, stabbing her finger on the plans. "You promised me it would look grand. I want opulence, not second best. It barely looks bigger than the rest of the houses around here. I don't want to blend in, Mikey."
"And you won't!" he assured her, a hand on her shoulder. "Babe, I promised you opulence, and that's what you're going to get. This house will say 'I own everything, including you' to anyone who walks past. No one in - what's this village called? Peri Peri Chicken, or something?"
"Perinale," Candy said with a shrug. "I don't know. I should have really visited before I bought the plot, but it was so cheap, and I couldn't get away from rehearsals for the show. Trust me when I say the village looked a lot nicer in the pictures. And I didn't think the people would be so - odd. It's like something out of those horror stories you hear. I was looking online last night, and apparently, Perinale has had more murders than most places. I’m just waiting for the guy with a leather mask and chainsaw to turn up. No wonder it was so cheap."
"It's Peridale," Julia butted in as she carefully approached with a smile. "Peri-dale."
Mikey and Candy looked at each other, and then down at Julia with amused smiles. They towered over her, making her feel dumpy in her yellow vintage dress.
"You're the café lady," Mikey said. "I think I owe you some money for the coffee the other day."
"On me," Julia said, holding her hands up. "Happens to the best of us."
"One gets so used to having things given for free that one forgets to pay," Candy said, the same dead smile from the magazine advertisement plastered across her plump lips. "I saw you at the manor yesterday. Are you a part-time cleaner?"
"Brian South is my father," Julia said. "And I suppose Katie is my step-mother, but we're the same age, so it doesn't really work out like that. And little Vinnie is my baby brother."
"Is that what the brat is called?" Candy asked through tight lips. "Kept me up all night screaming and crying."
"Babies do that," Julia said bluntly. "I heard you and Katie were friends back in her modelling days?"
Before Candy replied, Mikey rolled up the blueprint and headed over to the builders. He plucked a cupcake from the box before directing a speech at the team. Julia turned back to Candy, who was looking down at her like she was a beetle to be crushed under her boot.
"I've known Katie a long time," Candy said. "We were acquaintances and colleagues back then. It's merely a coincidence that I've ended up in the village she was from. I never actually expected her to come back here, but it's not like her career took off, is it? Still, we can't all have rich parents. Some of us need to work for our money. It's funny, as I look at you, I would have sworn you were older than Katie."
Instead of getting offended, Julia widened her smile. She found the compliment within the insult owing to the fact that she was natural, and Katie had a solid relationship with her dermatologist's needle.
"I was talking to your husband the other day," Julia said. "Nice man."
Candy narrowed her eyes and looked like she did not know whether to laugh or slap Julia. Instead, she did neither and smiled.
"Harold is - Harold," Candy said lightly. "Is there anything you wanted? This is private property, after all."
Julia wanted to blurt out what she had seen Candy doing with Shane in the alley, but she decided to keep that information to herself for now. Even though it would amuse Julia to see the look on Candy's face when she revealed that her secret affair was not so secret, she knew it would not serve her purpose.
"Did you have a nice Valentine's Day?" Julia asked casually as she glanced over at the builders as they got back to work. "Do anything romantic?"
"I was at the manor," Candy said quickly. "Working through plans. Why do you want to know?"
"No reason," Julia said with a shrug. "Just making conversation since we're going to be neighbours. So, you were in Peridale before the demolition?"
"Mikey and I came early to get a feel for the plot before we finalised the plans. I kept my head down though. I didn’t want a media circus turning up. Plus, I needed to sweet talk the council to hurry them up with their planning permission. Didn't take too much work because I am incredibly famous."
"Indeed," Julia replied through almost gritted teeth. "I just assumed you’d arrived on the day you came into my café asking for directions."
"We'd been for a walk and couldn't get our bearings," Candy said curtly before turning her attention to the builders. "You ask a lot of questions for a café worker. Are you a reporter, or something? If this conversation turns up on a blog, I will sue you."
"I'm just a simple local business owner," Julia said with a sweet smile. "And your closest neighbour. I'm sure we'll have much to talk about over the coming months."
Candy looked disgusted by the idea, but she plastered on her fake smile once again. Before Julia could ask any more questions, Candy hurried past her, stepping hard into a puddle next to Julia and splashing wet mud up her leg.
As Julia wiped it off with a tissue from her bag, she watched Candy and Mikey talk. From the way they kept looking over at her, she knew what their topic of conversation was.
Knowing that Candy had been in the village over Valentine's, Juli
a wondered if she had been the buyer or recipient of the flowers, and if so, what had she been apologising for on the card?
"You look deep in thought there," Alfie said, suddenly appearing above her. "Anything interesting?"
Julia scrunched up the muddy tissue and tossed it into the yellow skip nearby. Straightening up, she dusted down her skirt, turning her attention to the tattooed stranger. As Alfie smiled at her, his dark eyes dazzling, the feeling of comfort and familiarity washed over her again.
"Nothing important," Julia said, pushing Candy to the back of her mind for now. "How were the cupcakes?"
"Delicious," Alfie replied as he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. "That's why I came over actually. I wanted to tell you how enjoyable they were. I haven't had cupcakes that nice since I was in Paris."
"You've been to Paris?" Julia echoed. "I've always wanted to go. What's it like?"
"As beautiful as you think it's going to be," Alfie said with a dreamy smile as he slipped into his memories. "If there weren't as many tourists, you could get lost in the romanticism. Most big cities in Europe are like that. Their culture and history make you want to be able to wander their streets alone for as long as you need so you can soak up every ounce of what they have to offer."
"You sound like you've travelled a lot."
"I spent most of my teens and early twenties bouncing from country to country," he said, pulling up the sleeves of his high-visibility jacket. "It's where I got these. Every time I visited somewhere new, I got inked. Ended up in my fair share of hospitals with nasty infections from unskilled artists, but it only made me appreciate our national health even more. You don't realise how lucky you are until you've been sat in a boiling waiting room for seven hours in the middle of New Delhi with a green arm."
"I bet you're a funny man to have a drink with," Julia said. "The stories would never stop."
"I've heard that before," Alfie said with a nod. "I probably owe you a drink as an apology for the other day when you caught me in the rain. I was too lost in my thoughts to act like a polite human being. I'm sorry for running off."
