by Agatha Frost
“That wasn’t so hard,” Liz said stepping back to admire their handiwork. “Was it?”
“My hands are killing me,” Nancy exhaled, rubbing her red palms together. “Couldn’t you have bought preassembled furniture?
“It’s more expensive,” Liz replied with a shrug. “There should be a matching counter somewhere.”
They wandered back over to the pile of boxes. Liz quickly realised each of the boxes had a label listing its contents, taking the guesswork out of things.
“Found it!” Nancy exclaimed. “Oh, dear. This box is even bigger.”
They dragged the box away from the pile, a smaller box tumbling over, sending up a cloud of dust as it hit the floor.
“I want this in front of the storeroom door,” Liz wheezed as they dragged the large box. “Makes sense, right?”
“I’ve never opened a shop,” Nancy replied through tight lips. “Maybe my Jack would have been better. Or maybe you could have asked Simon?”
“Why would I ask Simon?” Liz asked, arching a brow when the box was finally where she wanted it. “I barely know him.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Nancy placed her hands on the small of her back and stretched out. “I think you two got on quite well at the pub the other day.”
“I don’t need you to play cupid,” Liz retorted as she dragged the keys across the box. “Have you heard anything else about Frank?”
“Since you last asked?” Nancy asked, with raised eyebrows as she pulled a blue wooden leg out of the box. “Nothing new, no. People ‘round here are happy to put it down to a drunken mistake.”
Liz thought about that for a moment, but it just did not make sense, no matter how hard she tried to believe it.
“Does that sound right to you?” Liz asked. “A man of reasonable health getting drunk and accidentally killing himself on a fishing boat he’s worked on for as long as anyone can remember?”
“Accidents do happen,” Nancy said as she read over the instructions. “This one looks so much harder.”
“Something just doesn’t sit right with me,” Liz mumbled, almost to herself. “I was at the pier yesterday, and I saw Adam, that apprentice he fired in front of us, with Mandy from the pub. I think they’re in a relationship.”
“A relationship?” Nancy asked, her jaw dropping, a smile tickling the corners of her lips. “I knew it! Nothing stays secret in Scarlet Cove.”
“Everyone seems to be saying that,” Liz replied, taking one side of the counter top as Nancy took the other, placing it on the legs. “And yet it seems the truth surrounding Frank’s death is so secret it’s sunk to the bottom of the sea, just like he would have done without his lifejacket.”
“Folk in Scarlet Cove love to gossip,” Nancy said, almost defensively. “Nothing else happens here. Aside from our new redheaded retired detective, it’s usually trivial stuff.”
“So, everyone gets involved in everyone else’s business then?”
“We take a mild interest,” Nancy replied with a grin. “It’s boring here! I spend all of my time at the gallery, and when I’m not there, I’m with Jack, but there’s nothing to do here. There’s no nightclub or cinema. You’ve got Coastline Cabaret, which is full of old folks, and the Fish and Anchor. Gossiping is all we have.”
Liz thought back to what Miles, her detective friend from Manchester, had said to her before they had parted ways. He had handed her a cactus, and told her that people in small towns were worse than those in the city. Had he been talking about the murder, the gossip, or both?
“There’s quite an age gap between Mandy and Adam,” Liz said as she sorted out the screws into piles. “He looks like a child.”
“There isn’t much choice ‘round here,” Nancy reminded her. “It’s a small dating pool. I’ve known Jack since school, but we only got together last year. Not everyone is that lucky. Mandy divorced her husband, or should I say, he divorced her. She married rich, obviously. Women like her usually do. It backfired. He saw right through her. I guess she decided to pick someone younger. Maybe she’s reliving her youth? I think she’s only twenty-seven, but the cake on her face ages her.”
As they worked on the counter, Liz tried to think of the types of conversations a twenty-seven-year-old woman could have with a nineteen-year-old boy. No matter how much she tried, she could not imagine their relationship being anything more than physical. They were both attractive people, but she would have thought Mandy was his auntie or older sister if she had seen them out in public and not seen how intimate they were.
The remainder of the boxes were significantly smaller, and it was not long before they had the rest of them made up. While Nancy made them cups of tea in the flat upstairs, Liz got to work unloading her stock and putting everything where she wanted it. When she was done, she stepped back and planted her hands on her hips, pleased with the placement of the arts and crafts supplies.
“What do you think?” Liz asked when Nancy pushed through the front door with two cups of tea. “Look like an arts and crafts shop to you?”
“Oh, Liz!” Nancy exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “It looks exactly like an arts and crafts shop! Makes me wish I could use the stuff.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“That’s what friends are for, right?” Nancy said with a wink as she handed over the cup of tea. “You can buy me a drink sometime to say thank you.”
Before Liz could agree that the proposal seemed like a fair deal, Nancy’s phone rang, causing her to pass her hot cup to Liz and dive for her pocket. The smile on her face told Liz exactly who it was.
“It’s Jack,” Nancy said, resting the phone against her chest. “I should take this.”
Leaving Nancy to her conversation, Liz took her cup of tea up to the flat and looked around her new home. Paddy peered up at her from his position on the couch, but he was too comfortable to move. She could hardly believe her dream was coming together, and without much of a hitch. She cast an eye to the cactus that Miles had given her, which she had affectionately named Spiky. Her friend would not even recognise her if he saw her now. She could not even remember how many days it had been since she had left Manchester. Had it been a week or a month? Either way, it felt like Scarlet Cove was exactly where she should be.
“Liz!” Nancy’s scream called from the shop below. “Liz – I think – you should – get down here.”
Liz ditched her tea next to the cactus on the TV stand and took the stairs down to the street two at a time. Even through the shop window, she could see exactly what had caused Nancy to scream. Water sprayed wildly from the storeroom behind the counter, soaking her shop.
“What happened?” Liz cried as she burst through the door. “My shop!”
“I don’t know,” Nancy cried, soaked from head to toe as she held her hands up to stop the spray of water. “I was on the phone to Jack when I heard something pop, and the next thing I know I was being attacked by water.”
Before Liz could do anything to stop the flow, the shop door opened, making both women spin, the burst pipe continuing to soak them.
“Is everything okay?” Christopher asked breathlessly as he ran into the shop. “I heard Nancy from the market. I thought someone was hurt.”
The water flow turned from a stream to a gentle spray. Nancy and Liz looked at each other, immediately bursting into a fit of laughter.
“We’re fine” Nancy giggled. “I think a pipe burst. It’s an old shop.”
Christopher followed them into the storeroom. The pipe had forced through the plaster and was now only dribbling as the water tank emptied.
“I’m not much of a plumber,” Christopher said as he sucked the air through his teeth. “Looks like the welding has weakened and snapped. It’s probably not accustomed to being used. This place has been empty for quite a while.”
Nancy glanced at Liz and playfully rolled her eyes as Christopher ran his finger along the rim of the jagged copper pipe.
“I have the
number for someone who can fix it,” Christopher said, already pulling his phone out. “He owes me a favour. Mention my name. I’m sure he’ll give you a discount.”
Christopher pulled a small notepad and a pen from his inner jacket pocket and quickly scribbled down the number. He handed it over with a toothy smile. Liz looked down at it, almost reluctant to take it. She hated ever feeling like a damsel in distress, but she knew she did not have a leg to stand on, especially since she was dripping wet.
“I hope he’s not a cowboy,” Liz said, accepting the piece of paper.
“Only the best for you,” Christopher said, his minty breath hitting her face. “I only associate with the best, Elizabeth.”
“I should go,” Nancy announced, grinning at Liz as she squeezed through them. “Jack wants to meet for dinner, and I think I need a change of clothes.”
Liz pleaded with her friend with her eyes not to leave them alone, but Nancy smirked as she gently hugged Liz. Nancy knew exactly what she was doing, and Liz did not need to be a detective to see through it.
“Let’s step outside,” Christopher said, glancing at the pipe again. “I don’t want to get this suit wet. It was rather expensive.”
Liz rolled her eyes and walked out of the small storeroom. Christopher placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the door. It was not until they were out on the street that she realised she did not like it, and jerked out of the way, leaving Christopher to awkwardly drop his arms to his side.
“Have you visited The Sea Platter yet?” he asked after a prolonged period of silence. “They have the best fish, mainly because I deliver to them.”
“Not yet,” she said quickly “I’ve been really busy.”
“Let me invite you to dinner,” he announced firmly. “They always reserve a table for me.”
The invitation took Liz by surprise. She thought for a moment for a way to let him down gently, especially since he had just given her the number for a plumber, but the thought of having another microwavable meal turned her stomach. It would be nice to have something fresh for once, and she did not doubt Christopher would pay.
“It’s on my list of places to visit,” Liz thought aloud. “I do really need to get a plumber out here though. I can’t live without water.”
“Perfect!” Christopher announced, taking her vague response as confirmation. “I’ll meet you at eight. Hopefully, you’ll have dried off before then.”
Christopher bowed his head, turned on his heels, and marched across the road and through the market without another word.
“See you later,” Liz mumbled to herself, before sighing and looking back at her soaked shop. “Without a hitch, right? Ha!”
7
Standing outside The Sea Platter, Liz pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders as the cool breeze swept down the seafront. She inhaled the fresh salty air, wondering if she would ever tire of the smell.
She checked her watch. Christopher was not late, but she was early. It had always been a habit to arrive everywhere ten minutes early, something her parents had drilled into her at a young age. They were polite to a fault and so proper she knew they would be outraged if they saw that Liz was only wearing jeans, a simple t-shirt, and a thin cardigan to have dinner with a man. They would practically keel over and die if they found out the man in question was single.
She crossed the road and leaned against the sea wall. The lights of the businesses on the seafront illuminated the waves as they crashed below, but when she looked out to the horizon, she could not tell where the sea ended and the sky began; it was how she liked it. She was on the edge of the country, and the only way to look was forward.
She turned at the sound of a car’s engine. She wondered if it might be Christopher, but she was surprised to see Simon climb out of the car. His dimples sprung out when he noticed her standing by the wall.
“Liz!” he cried cheerfully as he walked around the car to open the boot. “Out for a late night stroll?”
She looked at the small restaurant, which was already packed out, except for one table. Without knowing why, she found she did not want to tell Simon the real reason she was there.
“I’m meeting someone for dinner,” she said casually. “Are you eating here too?”
“I’m just delivering some ice cream,” he said as he pulled a crate out of the back of the car. “They’ve run out of the vanilla so they asked if I could run down with some.”
“It sounds like you’re never off the clock.”
“I don’t mind,” he said with a small shrug. “When duty calls, I listen.”
He flashed her a quick smile before heading into the restaurant with the ice cream. The chatter from the patrons flooded out as they enjoyed their food and wine. Liz began to wonder why she had accepted Christopher’s offer of dinner. She looked down the street and wondered if she could slip home and feign illness, but her heart sank when she saw Christopher walking towards her in a tuxedo, carrying a large bouquet of blood-red roses.
“You’re here,” he said, almost a little surprised. “For you.”
She clumsily accepted the flowers, inhaling their fresh scent. Lewis had always bought her red roses too.
“They’re beautiful,” Liz said as she looked over Christopher’s smart tuxedo. “Maybe a little unnecessary though.”
“Nonsense!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together and sending his sharp, strong aftershave in Liz’s direction. “I wouldn’t be being true to myself if I wasn’t a gentleman on a date.”
“This isn’t a date,” she reminded him. “We’re just two friends, having dinner.”
The restaurant door opened and Simon walked out, looking over his shoulder as he said his goodbyes to the owner. He turned around, his eyes darting from the roses, to Christopher, and then to Liz. His smile instantly vanished.
“Chris,” Simon said with a curt nod. “Evening.”
“It’s Christopher, Simon,” he replied with a strained smile. “You should know that by now. On your rounds?”
“They ran out of ice cream,” Simon said, his brows creasing together as he hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Are you two on a date?”
“No,” Liz replied quickly.
“Of sorts,” Christopher said, edging in and putting his arm around Liz’s shoulder. “I saved Elizabeth from a spot of bother with a burst pipe, and she accepted my invitation to dinner.”
“As friends,” she corrected him, looking down at the roses, her shoulder burning under his hand.
Simon nodded curtly, a sad smile on his face as he stared at Liz. Liz did not want to admit he looked entirely disappointed by her choice of company for dinner.
“Looks like a date to me,” he said with a forced smile. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“We will,” Christopher exclaimed as he pulled Liz in even tighter. “Can’t wait to have your ice cream for dessert.”
Simon jumped into his car, slammed the door, and sped down the seafront. Liz wriggled out of Christopher’s grip and dropped the roses to her side. She knew it would not be long before the whole town was talking about her date with Fishy Chris, and she knew no amount of denial would change that it was a date.
Knowing there was no turning back, Liz followed Christopher into the restaurant. Most of the customers nodded their acknowledgement of Christopher as he strode through the restaurant. Those same people gave Liz a curious look, their eyes widening when they saw the roses.
“Daniel!” Christopher exclaimed as he slapped his hand into that of a smartly dressed man. “Daniel Clark, I’d like you to meet Elizabeth Jones.”
“You must be our new resident,” Daniel said as he heartily accepted her hand. “Welcome to Scarlet Cove, Elizabeth.”
“Thank you,” she said. “People usually call me Liz.”
“Right this way, Liz,” Daniel said as he led them across the restaurant. “When I knew Christopher was coming down for dinner, I made sure to save the best seats in the house for you.”
He showed them to a small table in the window of the restaurant. The candles were already lit, and there was already a single rose sitting in a tall glass in the centre of the frilly white tablecloth. Liz wondered if every customer got such treatment when they came for dinner.
Liz sat down, the observers making her a little uncomfortable. She propped the roses on the floor against the table leg, and quickly blew out the candle as she sat down.
“I hope you like seafood,” Christopher said, staring with an arched brow at the smoking wick. “Daniel is the best chef on the whole South Coast, and it doesn’t hurt that he gets the best fish delivered daily.”
“It takes the best to make the best,” Daniel said as he slapped Christopher on the shoulder. “Can I get you some wine?”
“Yes,” Liz answered quickly.
“We’ll take a bottle of the Châteauneuf du Pape,” Christopher said without needing to look at the menu, his tongue rolling around the letters expertly. “And some oysters to start.”
Daniel scribbled down their order in the pad before scurrying off. Liz was ashamed to say she had never tried oysters or Châteauneuf du Pape. Her wine taste was narrowed down to whatever was on offer at the supermarket, and she was more interested in a fish finger sandwich than slurping an oyster out of a shell.
“You speak French?” she asked as she glanced over the extensive menu of seafood.
“Oui. Je parle couramment le français,” he announced confidently as he unbuttoned the jacket of his tuxedo. “I had the finest education money could buy.”
Liz looked down at the menu again, wondering if that was a brag, or if he was just stating a fact. It only confirmed her suspicions about Christopher being wealthy.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” she asked.
“Your education,” he said with a sly smile. “A woman as confident and feisty as you must be well educated.”
Something about the way Christopher said ‘feisty’ made her wonder if it was a compliment or an insult.
