by Adele Abbott
“That must have left you shorthanded?”
“It did for a while, but I’ve managed to recruit a replacement.” He took out his walkie-talkie. “Lucy? Lucy, are you there? Over?” There was no reply, so he tried again, but without any luck. “Where is that girl?” He came out from behind the counter and started down one of the aisles.
I followed.
Standing next to the freezers, was a young woman with curly, ginger hair. She was wearing huge gloves.
“Lucy. Why didn’t you pick up when I called?” Little Jack Corner said.
“Sorry, Jack.” She held up her hands. “The walkie-talkie is in my pocket, and I couldn’t get it out with these gloves on.”
“Never mind. This is the customer I told you about. The one who buys ninety percent of our custard creams.”
“I’m sure it isn’t that many.” I laughed. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Jill.”
“Nice to meet you too, Jill. I’m Lucy. Lucy Locket.”
Chapter 8
The next morning when I came downstairs, Jack was on his phone.
“Just a minute, Sarah. Jill’s here now. It’s Sarah—Chris’s wife. Will you be able to go and see her this morning?”
“Of course. What time?”
“Sarah, what time would be good for you? Nine-thirty?”
I nodded.
“That’s fine. Jill will see you then. Try to keep your chin up. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“How did she sound?” I asked when he’d ended the call.
“Not great. She’s worried sick. Chris hasn’t been in the best of health recently, so there’s no telling what this kind of stress might do to him. Will you let me know how you get on?”
“Sure.”
“Have you seen our new next-door neighbour yet?” Jack asked after he’d finished his breakfast.
“I have, unfortunately. It’s Mr Ivers.”
“Why do I recognise that name?”
“He was one of my neighbours at my old place, and he worked in the pay-booth at the toll-bridge until recently.”
“The weird little guy with the mechanical arm.”
“Andy.”
“Is that his name?”
“No, that was the name of his mechanical arm. I can’t remember Ivers’ first name—oh, hang on. It’s Montgomery, I think. I can’t believe he’s moved in next door. That man has been the bane of my life for years now.”
“Is he married?”
“No. I seem to remember a couple of girlfriends, but they didn’t last long. Hardly surprising because he could bore for England.”
“Is he working for himself now? I saw his van but couldn’t make head or tail of the name.”
“He’s in the door-to-door movie rental business, apparently. I give it six months.”
“He must be doing okay if he can afford to buy next door.”
“He paid for that with his lottery win.”
“He won the lottery?”
“Not the jackpot, but enough to buy the house and set up his new business. He’s hoping to make a living renting out movies on DVD. And get this: he’s never heard of movie streaming.”
“Oh dear.”
“You said it. And while we’re on the subject of Mr Ivers, whatever you do, don’t get too friendly with him. Under no circumstances, must you ever invite him over here. I won’t be responsible for my actions if you do.”
“He can’t be that bad.”
“Trust me, he’s worse. Much worse.”
Jack had finished his breakfast and gone through to the lounge to get his morning update from TenPin TV. I was still chewing my way through a bowl of muesli, which in a moment of madness, I’d allowed Jack to persuade me to have for breakfast.
How did he eat this stuff?
“Jill! Come and look at this!”
“Okay.” Any excuse to get away from the muesli.
“Look.” He pointed out of the window. “I haven’t seen that thing for ages.”
Neither had I, and I’d hoped never to see it again. Parked at the bottom of our drive was Bessie, Mr Hosey’s ridiculous train. The last time I’d seen that stupid thing, it had been lying on its side, having crashed into another train owned by Mr Kilbride, our kilt-making ex-neighbour.
Mr Hosey jumped out of the engine and looked our way.
“Duck!” I stooped down below the level of the window. “Don’t let him see us.”
“Too late.” Jack laughed. “He’s coming up the drive.”
“Don’t answer the door. He’ll think we’ve gone to work.”
“Both of our cars are on the drive.”
“Maybe he’ll think we’re having a lie in.”
“He’s already seen me.”
“Why didn’t you hide?”
“Err—because I’m not insane? Come on. Let’s see what he wants.”
“Whatever you do, don’t let him in this house.” I followed Jack to the door.
“Morning, Jack,” Mr Hosey said. “Where’s Jill—oh, there you are. I almost didn’t see you behind the door.”
“Morning, Mr Hosey,” Jack said. “I see you’ve got your train back on the road.”
“Indeed, but only after much blood, sweat and tears. It cost a small fortune to repair, but it was worth every penny, wouldn’t you say?”
“It’s looking very good.” Jack nodded.
I managed a grunt.
“A little bird tells me that you two are tying the knot next week.”
Oh no. Hosey must have come around to angle for an invite. I had to act quickly before Jack said something I’d regret.
“Whoops, sorry.” I nudged Jack to one side. “I’m afraid we weren’t able to invite you, Mr Hosey. It’s going to be a very small affair. Relatives and close family friends only. Isn’t that right, Jack?”
“Err—yeah.”
“That’s okay,” Mr Hosey said. “I wasn’t expecting an invitation.”
Phew.
“We’d better get a move on.” I started to close the door. “We both have work today.”
“Just a moment, Jill. I haven’t told you my reason for calling yet. As you might imagine, repairing Bessie has been very expensive. I was forced to take out a small bank loan, which I’m keen to pay off as soon as possible.”
“We really don’t need any more of your Bessie T-shirts.”
“Just as well because I’ve sold out of them. Actually, I’ve come to the realisation that if I’m to keep Bessie on the road, she’ll have to pay for her own upkeep. With that in mind, I racked my brain to think of a way to do that. And I’m pleased to report that I have come up with what I’m sure you’ll agree is a brilliant plan. Would you like to know what it is?”
Before I could say ‘no’, he continued.
“Weddings!”
“Sorry?”
“These days, it’s become rather old hat for the bride to travel in a limousine, wouldn’t you say?”
“I—err—”
“You must have noticed the increased use of horse and carriage, for example.”
“I’ve seen a few, but I—”
“So, I thought to myself: What if the bride was to travel to the wedding by train?”
“On Bessie?”
“Exactly.”
“I’m not sure anyone would want—”
“I expect people to be queuing around the block once I’ve launched the service formally.”
“I’m really not convinced that—”
“Fortunately, I’m in a position to offer you the service for free. A kind of soft launch which I can use as a reference.”
“Me? Travel to my wedding on that—”
“That’s a very kind offer,” Jack cut me off. “The thing is, Mr Hosey, we already have the limousines booked, and we can’t cancel so close to the big day. We’d lose all of our money.”
“That’s very disappointing.” Mr Hosey looked crestfallen. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”
“No, I’
m sorry.” Jack ushered me inside. “Thanks anyway for the offer.”
“That man is certifiable,” I said, once Hosey had driven away in Bessie. “Who in their right mind would travel to their wedding on a toy train?”
“You can’t fault him for effort.”
“Speaking of the wedding, what are your thoughts on animals?”
“Sorry?”
“When I was at the dress fitting, I was so bored that I looked through a few bridal magazines. There were several photographs of couples who had included their pets in the wedding ceremony.”
“Dogs?”
“Yeah, mainly.”
“I think it’s rather sad to dress dogs in silly outfits.”
“I thought they looked kind of cute.”
“I don’t think so. Anyway, what does it matter? It’s not like we have a dog. By the way, have you let your mum and dad know about the seating arrangements yet?”
“Not yet, no.”
“You better had. I know they were hoping to be nearer to the action, but it’s really not going to be possible.”
“I’ll tell them today.”
***
Sarah Jardine lived in a semi-detached house that was only a stone’s throw from my old flat. I was running a little early, so I called into what had once been my local newsagent’s. Behind the counter was Jasper James, who still favoured the fedora—today’s was a rather fetching cream colour.
“Morning, Jasper.”
“Well, I never. Hello, young lady. What brings you back to these parts?”
“I’m here to interview someone, but I need a snack first because I didn’t get much breakfast this morning.” I grabbed a KitKat from the display.
“Would you like a magazine while you’re here?”
“No, thanks. I don’t get much time to read these days.”
“That isn’t a problem. I’ve recently started to sell audio magazines, and I think I have just the one for you.”
“Thanks, but I really don’t—”
“Muffin Monthly. There’s a special feature this month on blueberry muffins.”
“Really? That does sound quite interesting. How exactly do the audio magazines work?”
“All I need is your phone number; the magazine will automatically be sent to your phone.”
“Are they expensive?”
“Not at all. Only five-ninety-nine.”
“Go on, then.” I gave him my number and then paid by card.
I still had a few minutes before my meeting with Sarah Jardine, so I listened to the audio magazine which had already appeared on my phone.
As reported in last month’s issue of Muffin Monthly, sales of blueberry muffins in the UK have increased dramatically over the last two years. If sales of blueberry remain at this level, we may see their sales overtake those of chocolate chip for the first time. Industry leaders are at a loss to explain this turnaround.
How very interesting. Perhaps the move from chocolate to blueberry was the result of changing attitudes to healthier living.
What do you mean it’s more likely to do with the rate at which I consume them? Cheek!
Jack had warned me that Sarah Jardine had sounded upset, but I hadn’t expected her to be quite so distraught. We’d no sooner got into the lounge than she broke down in tears. It was several minutes before she managed to compose herself enough to talk.
“It’s going to be okay, Sarah. We’ll soon have this all cleared up.”
“You don’t understand. This is all my fault.”
“Of course it isn’t. It’s just a misunderstanding. The police will soon realise their mistake.”
“Bill and I had been seeing each other for the last three months.”
I hadn’t seen that one coming, and Jack obviously hadn’t known anything about it, or he would have said something.
“Did your husband know?”
“I didn’t think so, but he must have found out. Why else would he have done this?”
“You think he killed Bill?”
“Chris gets jealous if I so much as look at another man. If he had found out about Bill and me, then—” Her words trailed away.
“Have you mentioned any of this to the police?”
“No. I didn’t even tell Jack, but they’re bound to find out, aren’t they?”
“Have you been able to speak to Chris since he was arrested?”
“Not yet, but our lawyer is trying to arrange something.”
“So, you don’t know for sure that your husband had found out about you and Bill?”
“No, but why else would he have killed him?”
“We can’t be certain he did.”
“They found traces of the poison on a cigarette that Chris gave to Bill, didn’t they? What other explanation could there be?”
It was a good question, and not one that I had a ready answer for.
“When Chris came home on Tuesday, how did he seem?”
“I was already in bed, fast asleep, by the time he got back.”
“What about the next morning?”
“He was still excited about the previous night’s bowling victory. He never stopped talking about it.”
“He wasn’t acting in any way out of character?”
“No, he was fine until he heard that Bill had died.”
“How did he hear?”
“He got a phone call.”
“How did he react?”
“He was shocked, and very upset. At least, that’s how it appeared at the time. Do you think I should contact the police and tell them about Bill and me?”
“If they ask you about it, then you’ll have to tell the truth, but for now, let’s see what happens with Chris.”
As soon as I got back to the car, I called Jack.
“Sarah and Bill? I had no idea. I can’t believe it.”
“Do you think Chris could have known?”
“I don’t see how he could have. He was just as pally with Bill as he ever was. When I left them on Tuesday, they were enjoying a cigarette and a laugh. Has Sarah told the Washbridge police about her and Bill?”
“Not yet, and I told her not to unless they specifically asked her about it. This doesn’t look good, Jack. Chris had the motive and it was his cigarette that killed Bill.”
“We need to hear Chris’ side of the story. I’ll try to arrange for you to see him.”
“Okay.”
***
I wasn’t looking forward to breaking the news about the seating arrangements to my mother and father. When I’d told them that I was going to marry Jack, they’d both been super-excited, and adamant that they wanted to attend the ceremony and reception. Jack was right, though, there was no way that we could have what appeared to be an empty table next to the top table.
I decided to tackle my mother first. Once I’d explained the situation to her and Alberto, I’d mosey on down the road to talk to my father and Blodwyn.
At least, that had been the plan.
At first, I thought there was no one home at my mother’s. I’d knocked a couple of times without response, but then I heard voices coming from around the back of the house.
Seated around a large table on the patio were my mother, father, Alberto and Blodwyn. They seemed to be having a whale of a time and didn’t even notice my arrival.
“Hi, guys.”
“Jill.” My mother came over and gave me a hug. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“I didn’t expect to find you all together.”
“We’re having a barbecue. Or at least we will be later. We’re just working our way through this bottle of wine first. Come and join us.”
“Thanks. Hi, everyone.”
My father gave me a hug, and then pulled up a chair for me.
“It’s nice to see you’re all getting along so well.” I took a sip of the wine. “This is amazing. What is it?”
“Chateau Spook. Nineteen-fifty-seven.” My father held up the bottle.
“How are your nerves
, Jill?” Blodwyn asked. “It’s not long now.”
“Okay. I’m too busy to be nervous.”
“We can’t wait for the big day, can we, Blod?” my mother said. “We went shopping for our dresses last week. Would you like to see mine?”
“Not just now. It can be a surprise on the day.”
“How’s Jack doing?” Alberto asked.
“He’s fine.”
“Leaving you to see to all of the arrangements, I bet,” my mother said.
“Actually, it’s the wedding arrangements I need to talk to you about.”
“There isn’t a problem, is there?” My father looked concerned.
“Not a problem, exactly. It’s just that we’ve run into a couple of minor hiccups regarding the seating.”
“The seating plan is always the biggest headache.” My mother finished the last of her wine. “Do you remember what a nightmare ours was, Alberto?”
He nodded.
“You know that we want you all to be there—at the ceremony and reception, but—err—well, it’s just that you’re going to have to sit at the back.”
“At the back?” My mother looked horrified. “But we’re the bride’s parents.”
“I know that, and under normal circumstances, you’d be right there at the front.”
“What do you mean: normal circumstances?”
“If you weren’t—how shall I put this? Dead.”
“We may be dead, but I’ll have you know I’m as fit as anyone who’ll be at that wedding. I’ve started going to the gym, haven’t I, Alberto?”
“You have, dear. Twice a week.”
“That may be, but it doesn’t alter the fact that you’re—err—ghosts.”
“What difference does that make?”
“Think about it. If you sit on the front row at the ceremony, I’ll be the only person who can see you.”
“You’re the only one that matters.”
“That’s not the point. Everyone else will think those seats are empty. You’ll end up with someone sitting on your lap.”
“She has a point, Darlene,” Alberto said.
“And at the reception, we can’t have what appears to be an empty table at the front of the room. It was difficult enough for Jack to explain to the wedding planner why we need an extra table at all. You’re going to have to sit at the back of the room, I’m afraid.”
