by Agatha Frost
Julia eased herself onto the newspaper, making sure not to touch anything. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Malcolm more. She pulled off the lid and presented the cake to him, the paper crinkling under her behind.
“Wow! Look at that, Malcolm!” Peter exclaimed. “It’s your garden!”
Malcolm looked down at the carefully crafted flowers Julia had created. Just like Malcolm’s garden, they covered every inch of the cake, their colours and shapes representing the flowers in his well-designed patch of land. Julia had created it from memory, but she thought she had done a good job at reconstructing it.
“Is that the jasmine?” Malcolm asked, pointing a brave finger at a patch of white flowers on the left side of the cake.
“That’s what I was going for.”
“It’s perfect,” he said, a small smile flickering across his lips. “You made this for me?”
Julia nodded, warmth spreading through her chest. Just from the openness of his old face, she knew the cake had done the trick.
“It’s an apology,” Julia said carefully as she passed the cake to him. “We should never have come here and lied to you. It was wrong of us, but we had good intentions.”
Malcolm accepted the cake and stared down at the design, his eyes drifting over the dozen different details Julia had spent hours crafting. Most people did not see the point in spending so long on something that was going to be eaten, but Julia did. The look on Malcolm’s face made every second worth it.
“Get some plates,” Malcolm called to Chloe. “It almost seems too beautiful to cut, but I want to see if it tastes as good as it looks.”
Julia took the cake back before following Chloe into the kitchen, which was as immaculate as the rest of the cottage. The work surfaces were completely clear, making the ones in her cottage look cluttered. The scent of bleach hit her again.
“That’s the first time I’ve seen him smile all week,” Chloe said as she pulled four plates from the cupboard. “Who knew all it would take was a cake? Would you do the honours?”
Chloe handed Julia a large plate and a dazzling knife. Julia carefully pulled the cake out of the box and transferred it to the plate. She cut four generous slices.
“Crumbs,” Chloe whispered as she quickly dusted the cake remnants into her hands before throwing them in the shining stainless steel bin. “It’s better that he doesn’t see them.”
“I really am sorry,” Julia said as Chloe pulled four forks from a sparse cutlery drawer. “Not just for lying to your father, but for everything.”
“Everything?”
“He lives on the fringes of the village, and I’ve never once thought to come and visit him.”
“You can’t apologise for the whole village,” Chloe mumbled as she placed the forks on the plates. “I sometimes wonder how different things would have been if we didn’t live in this village. He might have had a second chance. I’m just glad he had Yolanda. She saw through the gossip and got to know him.”
“It’s not too late for him.”
“Really?” Chloe replied with a sarcastic laugh. “I can’t see the whole village changing their minds about him anytime soon. He had the Green Fingers, but he doesn’t even have that anymore.”
Julia followed Chloe through to the sitting room with the cake. She was surprised to see the newspaper no longer on the couch. They tucked into the cake, which was as delicious as Julia could have hoped for.
“I heard the café was good, but I never knew it was this good,” Peter exclaimed after licking his fork. “Ever thought about putting in a ramp for disabled access?”
“I can do,” Julia said. “Although I’m ashamed to say it has never crossed my mind before.”
“Don’t worry, it didn’t cross mine before I was stuck in this thing,” he said, tapping a finger on a faint scar on the side of his head that Julia had not noticed before. “That pesky tumour made sure I didn’t forget it anytime soon. This chair was easier when I had Yolanda but – but I can’t really put this burden on Mercy.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t mind,” Chloe said as she put her plate on the table.
“She’s a good girl.” Peter looked like he was holding back tears. “But she deserves better than being lumped with me and this chair. She doesn’t drink, or smoke, or take drugs, and she’s a hard worker. I couldn’t ask for a better daughter.”
“Spitting image of Yolanda too,” Malcolm said with a sigh. “She’s a smashing girl.”
Peter slapped his hand on top of Malcolm’s, and the two men shared the same sad smile. Julia almost felt sad that she had not known Yolanda. The void she had left in these men’s lives showed how much of an amazing woman she was.
As though not wanting to linger in the silence, Peter unlocked the brakes on his chair and wheeled himself back.
“I’ll be back to see you soon,” Peter said as Malcolm stood up. “We need to stick together in this village. You look after him, Chloe.”
“I always do,” she replied curtly. “I’ll show you out to your car.”
Chloe followed Peter out of the living room, leaving Malcolm and Julia alone. Her instinct told her to apologise again, but it did not seem like it was needed. Instead, she stood up, deciding she was not going to impose on the man any longer.
“You’re always welcome in my café,” Julia said as she walked to the door. “Anytime you want.”
“Thank you,” he said as he stood up again, his giant frame filling the small cottage. “You might just see me in there.”
Julia smiled at the man one last time before walking along the damp floorboards to the front door. She pushed her soggy toes back into her shoes and then opened the front door. She turned back before she closed it, seeing Malcolm in the kitchen pouring a bottle of bleach into a mop bucket. Julia hoped he would accept her invitation to her café. She knew Peridale could be an awful place to be if you were on the wrong side of the gossip, but Julia had found that the villagers were more forgiving than they appeared. People needed to get to know the real Malcolm to see he was not a criminal to be feared, but just a gentle giant.
Julia walked towards her car as Peter pulled himself into his driver’s seat with special handles in the ceiling. Chloe collapsed and loaded his wheelchair into the boot.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Chloe said as she shut Peter’s car door. “He loves it when you visit.”
“It’s been a rough month, but things are starting to look up,” Peter said after winding the window down. “I can see why Yolanda was so fond of him.”
Chloe waved one last time before he drove off, leaving the women alone.
“I’ll see you around, Julia,” Chloe said with a kinder look than the one she had given Julia when she first arrived at the cottage. “Thanks for proving me wrong. You’re not a bad person.”
Chloe walked back to the cottage, showing a glimpse of Malcolm mopping the hallway floor before she closed the door. Julia pulled her keys from her pocket. Things had gone better than she could have hoped for, making her glad she had listened to her instincts to make things right.
She walked towards her car, glancing back at the beautiful cottage once more. It was a shame that Malcolm was not part of the Green Fingers anymore because as far as Julia was concerned, he had the most beautiful garden in Peridale. Considering how the last meeting had turned out, maybe Emily dismissing him had been a blessing in disguise.
She turned back to her car, but something sparkled under the sunlight in the backseat of Chloe’s car. Julia peered through the window, her heart stopping when she saw a can of engine oil poking out from under a blanket. It wouldn’t have been such an unusual thing to find in the backseat of a car if a pair of gardening shears had not accompanied it.
Julia thought about Evelyn’s oiled gardenias and Amy’s destroyed garden. Turning back to the cottage, she thought about Chloe’s parting words. Chloe might have thought Julia was a good woman, but Julia was not sure she could return the compliment. Cupping her hands against the
glass, her heart stopped when she saw a blood red rose petal stuck in between the blades of the shears.
Julia drove as quickly as she dared through the village, not stopping until she saw Johnny walking away from her café. She pulled up beside him and threw open the passenger door.
“I’ve got another one,” Johnny called as he got into her car. “It’s –”
“Emily?” Julia answered for him.
“How did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” she replied. “I’m sorry about calling you a typical journalist. I was a hypocrite.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Johnny said as he yanked the seatbelt across his chest. “We need to get up to Emily’s cottage. I’ve been out of the office all day. I don’t know how long this was sitting on Rhonda’s desk. I’ve already called the police.”
Julia sped up to Emily’s cottage, taking the bends sharper than ever before. Johnny did not tell her to slow down. She pulled up outside of the cottage, spotting the destroyed roses in an instant. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach; they were too late.
They jumped out of the car at the same time a police car sped down at them from the opposite direction. Two uniformed officers jumped out, one of them mumbling into his radio.
“I called you,” Johnny cried as he unclipped Emily’s garden gate. “I got another obituary.”
Johnny stepped to the side to let the officers walk down the garden path. They gave each other sceptical looks, and just from the way they stared at Johnny told Julia they still suspected him.
Instead of lingering back, Julia stepped into the garden, the destroyed ruby rose petals crunching underfoot. Years of Emily’s effort had been destroyed in seconds. Julia no longer cared about the things Emily had done, she did not deserve this.
“Mrs Burns?” one of the officers called into the house as he banged a fist on the door. “It’s the police. Can you come to the door?”
A faint groan drifted from within the cottage, breaking the silence. The officers looked at each other, and then to Julia and Johnny.
“Mrs Burns?” one of the officers called out again. “Are you –”
“Get out of the way!” Julia cried. “She’s in there!”
Without a second thought, Julia thrust herself at the cottage door, and unlike Edgar’s, this one burst open. She clasped her arm as it began to throb, but she quickly forgot the pain when she saw Emily lying in a puddle of blood on the kitchen floor. The old woman let out another groan as her eyelids fluttered.
“We need an ambulance,” one of the officers mumbled into his radio with a shaky voice. “Quickly.”
Julia pushed past them and arrived at Emily’s side. There was nothing she could do to change the situation so she clutched Emily’s hand and squeezed.
Julia looked down at the ground with a heavy heart. Her eyes opened wide when she landed on a faint pink boot print on the pale tiles, just like the ones she had found in Edgar’s kitchen.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said as she listened out for the sirens. “You’re going to be okay.”
10
“We need to go to the police with this,” Johnny whispered to Julia as they hurried across the church grounds. “If Chloe killed Emily, we need to stop her before she does it again.”
“We don’t know that she killed anyone,” Julia whispered back.
“The oil and the shears suggest she did.”
Julia thought back to what she had seen in the back of Chloe’s car, but she was not so sure anymore. The more she thought about it, the less strange it felt for a member of the Green Fingers to have a pair of gardening shears in the backseat of the car.
“I was with Chloe when Emily was hit,” Julia whispered as she pulled on the door of the village hall.
“Emily could have been there for hours. I went to the hospital this morning, and they said she’d lost a lot of blood.”
“Did you see her?”
“They wouldn’t let me in,” he said solemnly. “I don’t think it would have made much difference. She wouldn’t have been able to hear my apology anyway. She’s still unconscious.”
They walked into the meeting, the sombre mood hitting Julia. Amy, Mary, and Brendan were sat at the front, looking out at the group like teachers in a school assembly. Some of the members dabbed their eyes with tissues, but most of them looked too stunned to shed any tears.
“You’re here,” Amy called with a nervous smile, standing up from her seat. “Please, come to the front.”
Julia and Johnny looked uneasily at each other as they walked around the crowd of people who were all looking expectantly at them. Julia had been surprised when Amy called first thing that morning to ask her to come to the meeting.
“I should have warned Emily,” Evelyn said heavily as she adjusted her lemon yellow turban. “I could feel something dark was coming for her.”
“Give it a rest, Evelyn,” Amy snapped, her raw eyes narrowing to slits. “She might not – she might not recover. Now isn’t the time to advertise yourself.”
Amy was dressed head to toe in black, devoid of her usual pastel shades. The only colour on her outfit came from the presidential green pin on her breast pocket. It jumped out at Julia, flashing like a beacon.
“Why did you call me here?” Julia asked, looking at Mary and Brendan who looked just as confused as she felt. “Do you have any news about Emily?”
“No,” Amy sniffled as she dabbed her nose with a black handkerchief. “I visited her this morning. She’s in intensive care. Oh, Julia! You should have seen her. All those tubes – she looked like a monster!”
Amy sobbed wildly into her hands, an eerie silence filling the vast hall. Mary reached out to comfort her, but stopped herself before her hand made contact with Amy’s shoulder. The judge rested her hands in her lap, and then looked at Brendan who could only offer a shrug. He pulled his camera up to take a picture of Amy, but Mary shook her head disapprovingly.
“I’m sorry,” Amy said as she dried her eyes. “I’m still in shock. I think I need a sweet tea and a nap, but there’s no time for that.”
“Why are we here, Amy?” Julia repeated, already starting to feel a little frustrated.
“Yes,” Amy said, suddenly standing up and offering her chair to Julia. “I need you to tell us everything you know about this killer. Two murders might have been excusable, maybe even three, but now that Emily’s life is hanging in the balance, we’re all terrified that it’s going to be one of us next.”
The scared faces stared desperately at Julia as though she was their new leader. Julia opened her mouth to speak, but looked hopelessly at Johnny, and then Amy. She did not know where to start.
“It’s not all of you that are being targeted,” Johnny said, stepping forward to the front of the group. “It seems that only the founding members are being targeted.”
There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone except Amy. She gasped, her hand resting against her mouth. She looked at Julia for reassurance, but Julia could not give it. With only two founding members alive and well, Amy’s odds of surviving had been slashed.
“What do we do?” Shilpa Patil, the post office owner, called out. “We can’t just stand by and let this happen again! What are the police doing about it?”
“Not a lot,” Johnny said. “Not that I can see, anyway.”
After Emily had been taken away in an ambulance, Julia and Johnny had gone to Julia’s cottage and properly cleared the air. Johnny promised he was not going to jump to conclusions again after focussing too hard on Emily. As the chatter in the room started again, Julia could not help but feel Johnny was jumping harder than ever before.
“They’re doing everything they can,” Julia called out, standing up to join Johnny. “The truth is, there isn’t much evidence. Whoever is doing this is moving unseen. They’re clever and calculated. This has been planned out. From planting the obituaries in the newspaper office, to gaining entry to the victims’ houses, they know exactly what they’re
doing.”
“I thought the others were pushed down the stairs?” Brendan called out as he took a picture of the group. “I heard Emily had her skull bashed in.”
“Emily doesn’t have stairs,” Amy said, throwing a strong look in the photographer’s direction.
“I think the killer is getting desperate,” Julia suggested. “Time is running out for them. With each new death, it’s going to be easier to track them down.”
“But it must be someone we all know,” Shilpa cried as she clutched her sari. “It could be someone in this room!”
They all turned to face each other, their eyes filled with suspicion.
“It is a possibility,” Johnny agreed as he adjusted his glasses. “Which is why we need to talk about it. Some of you must know something, even if you don’t realise it. Who would want to target you?”
“Malcolm!” one of the women cried. “He’s the criminal!”
“What about that man from the garden centre?” a man shouted out. “We broke that water feature on our last visit.”
Johnny began to scribble down their suggestions as they all aired their grievances one by one, but Julia did not bother. She knew for somebody to commit several murders they needed to have a strong motive. Julia turned to Amy, sure she was keeping a secret. Amy stared blankly into the distance, unblinking and still. If Amy was hiding something, Julia had no idea how she was going to unlock it.
“I have an idea,” a voice called from across the village hall. “And she’s standing right there.”
All heads turned to face Chloe as she let the doors shut behind her. She walked into the hall, her heels clicking on the polished wood. She crossed her arms, her eyes trained on Amy.
“You don’t deserve that pin,” Chloe cried. “It should be my father’s, and you all know it.”
The members all shifted in their seats and turned away from Chloe to avoid her judgemental gaze. Amy adjusted the pin on her black cardigan, her spine stiffening.
“Emily would have wanted me to have it,” Amy called out proudly. “Besides, I’m the only founding member left in the club.”
