“Right. Museum is too public for a clandestine cover up. But now, collectors. Yes. And it’s highly unlikely that a worker at the Super Sudsy Launderette would collect costly, rare glass,” Berdie twittered with a note of irony.
“So a rich glass collector with a landing,” Lillie summed up. “Well, that narrows it down to only one third of the population of England as suspects, I should think.”
“Well done, Lillie,” Berdie congratulated. “It’s taken only two minutes to eliminate two thirds of the populace.”
The doctor laughed. “That’s certainly glass-half-full thinking.”
“The point is, it’s a place to start, and our little village is ground zero.” Berdie smiled. She had a distant thought that came tumbling forward. “In fact…”
Berdie was interrupted by a rush of laughter. “Imagine seeing you here.”
A high-spirited Charles Swindon-Pierce deposited himself next to Berdie. “Hello, all.” He grinned, Robin Darbyshire at his side. Both were in trendy dress. “Where’s the collar then?”
“If you mean my husband,” Berdie worked at being agreeable, “he’s due to arrive any moment.”
“I see,” the man responded.
“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” Robin smiled.
Lillie was quick to introduce Dr. Meredith.
Charles tipped his head politely, but Robin seemed completely uninterested.
“Just arriving?” Charles asked. And before any could respond, he went on, “Let me recommend the Boeuf Fumé au Truffes, a cut of superb beef, laden with fresh and,” he raised an index finger, “they’re truly fresh mind you, aromatic shaved truffles. Absolutely a five-star dish.”
And a five star price I shouldn’t wonder. Berdie made a step back as the animated Charles, so wildly exuberant, just missed giving her a bump. It was very unlike the man she met at Bampkingswith Hall. And his words were also bumping—into one another, that is.
“Come Charles,” Robin said warmly. “You’re boring them.”
“Not at all.” Dr. Meredith grinned.
“Ah, my husband approaches.” Berdie wanted the couple to notice how handsome and stately the “collar” was.
“Vicar,” Mr. Swindon-Pierce acknowledged. “I’m just making recommends you know.” The young man swirled into an accolade of the featured dessert. “Chocolate du la Fleur,” he raved. “Truffles, not the earthen ones,” he said shaking his well-groomed head, “no, these are fine chocolates infused with eau d’orange blossom. Absolutely brilliant, weren’t they Robbie?”
“Charlie,” Robin pleaded. “Yes, absolutely brilliant.” She giggled. “Now let them go have their dinner.” She gave Hugh a tip of the chin, slipped her arm around Charles’ elbow, and began a forward motion. “Please excuse us,” she offered as a fare-thee-well.
“Robbie never finishes her food.” The young man continued pontificating even when taking steps. “But she ate all her Chocolate du la Fleur.” He called over his shoulder, “And they’re served with as much champagne as you wish.”
“Of which I’d say his wishes were fully granted.” Hugh had a gracious way of expressing things.
“That certainly explains his affable behavior.” Berdie looked after the couple who hailed a taxi.
“Affable and then some.” Lillie did not seem remotely amused.
“Thank you for the suggestions,” Loren called out to the man as a postscript then turned to Hugh. “He’s right, you know. The chef has been offering more truffle dishes, ‘earthen ones that is,’” he parodied. “The beef with shaved truffles is a gourmand delight. I had it just last night.”
“Just last night?” Lillie tipped her head. “But you didn’t say.”
The doctor looked like a child who’s just gotten caught eating an Easter bun before mealtime. “Didn’t I?”
“Dare I ask with whom?” Lillie had a hard edge in her question.
“Lillie,” The doctor spoke softly and took her hand, but she appeared unaffected. “Some from work.”
“Some from work.” Lillie’s hard edge became sharp. “Could that some include the free-as-a-bird Roz?”
“Lillie, please. It was a late night reprieve, a bit of a lark, after being at it all day.”
“Oh, I can imagine.” Lillie thrust the words like bullets.
“Please, let’s enjoy our evening.” Loren squeezed her hand.
Berdie hooked Hugh’s elbow. “I’m parched, love.” She stretched the truth. “Perhaps we can go get Pimm’s in the lounge.” She looked knowingly at Hugh, that discreet We-Should-Leave-Momentarily look.
“Oh, indeed.” Hugh nodded. “We can meet you at the dinner table.” He cautiously looked to Loren and then Lillie.
A barely audible vibrating bzzz of a mobile phone cut into the conversation. It may as well have been the ear-piercing spring call of courting grouse.
Berdie’s shoulders went taut.
Hugh raised his left eyebrow.
Lillie churned and Loren took a deep inhale.
Hugh stuck his hand into his trouser pocket feeling for his mobile phone.
“Not mine,” he said with relief. Berdie then realized that Hugh’s respite was probably Loren’s demise.
“No.” Lillie squeezed the single word out of her tightened lips.
Loren took another deep breath then pulled the mobile from his inside pocket.
“Meredith,” he answered.
Lillie pulled her hand from his grasp so abruptly it made her dark curls dance.
Dr. Meredith’s jaw tightened. “Now?”
Lillie lifted her chin and crossed her arms.
Berdie, Hugh in tow, took a step towards the restaurant door, but Lillie caught Berdie’s arm. “Stay,” Lillie mouthed without speaking.
Dr. Meredith spoke into the mobile. “Did you try to get Harry, Roz?”
“Even worse.” Lillie’s eyes narrowed. “Did she know we were having dinner together, here, this evening?” Lillie’s volume was not polite.
Loren raised his palm, indicating a need for Lillie to quiet. He muted his voice, but every word was clearly overheard, “Give me forty minutes.”
Judging by Lillie’s stiff posture, Berdie had the sense the worst was yet to come. Mind you, the doctor clearly had his duty, but was Roz really his duty? Still, Berdie felt compelled to reason with her friend.
“Lillie, try not to overreact,” Berdie said discreetly. Her comment was met with not even an ounce of acknowledgement.
“Yes, all right, OK,” the pathologist sounded frayed. “Thirty minutes, then.” Loren snapped the mobile back into his pocket. “Lillie…”
“Thirty minutes.” Lillie had a face like thunder, and her voice matched it. “You have the nerve to offer me, us, thirty minutes of your precious time.”
Several people in the crowd had stopped chatting and were now staring at what was unfolding.
“Well, let me tell you how many precious moments I have to give you this evening.” Lillie blazed. “None.”
She turned on her heel and began a rapid push down the walk. With great drama, she lifted her hand and moved to the road’s edge. “Taxi,” she bellowed, her face gone scarlet.
“Lillie, it’s the demands of my job,” Loren appealed.
“Of your job. Demands of a designing woman you mean.”
By now, all eyes were on the lovely Lillie turned raging storm. She stood in the street flaying her arms. “Taxi,” she shouted again.
“Can’t you do something?” the perplexed and desperate Loren asked Hugh.
Hugh balked. “Sorry mate, it’s between you and her.” He said it with some sympathy.
Loren looked to Berdie.
“I take Hugh’s part.”
A taxi screeched to a halt, and Lillie clamored inside. Like a startled April hare, the vehicle hastily retreated down the road.
Loren put his hands on his head and drew them to the back of his neck. He released a heavy sigh.
Murmurs swelled through the awaiting diners. A young
woman who had observed the entire episode approached Loren.
“Swine,” she breathed and huffed off.
Loren looked startled. He became stunningly aware of the crowd who gazed at him then turned away. His bewildered eyes fell upon Hugh and Berdie.
“Well,” was all he could muster.
“Yes, well,” Hugh restated.
“I’m so sorry. Perhaps I should push off.” The doctor’s voice sounded like a Sunday balloon that’s lost all its air. “Roz is waiting for me at the lab.”
“Yes,” Hugh agreed. “No need to hang about on our account.”
“Loren, if I may.” Berdie heard the swirling words inside exit her mouth. “I should be very careful. Your work, and loyalty duly noted, is one thing. But, an attractive female who certainly gives off the sense that she’s willing to, well frankly, put it about a bit, is quite another matter.”
“Berdie!” Hugh scolded. Face flushed, he turned his full attention to Loren. “When you feel up to it, ring me. We can meet for coffee.”
Loren smiled weakly. “Right.” He nodded. “I should think I’ll need that.”
Berdie could see Loren work at standing tall. She had never known him to lose his moorings as he apparently had now, at least momentarily.
“Cheers, then.” He nodded again.
“Cheers,” Berdie and Hugh said simultaneously.
Loren pulled car keys from his suit pocket and began a lonely trek to the car park.
“God go with you,” Hugh offered.
And with us all, Berdie thought. “Hugh, did we have such fuss and speculations when we were going out?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Oh, dear.” Berdie was circumspect. Then a distant memory of Hugh’s first days in the military popped into her present psyche. Ah, yes, Hugh’s dutiful and gorgeous assistant. “Lieutenant Julia Goodwin.”
“Right in one.”
“Yes, well we managed our way through that one, didn’t we?”
“Quite well, as I recall.”
He glanced about, looking past the voyeuristic crowd. He inhaled the freshness of the spring dusk. Berdie could see by Hugh’s expression that he was taking in a new opportunity to find goodness and all it had to offer. “You know, I believe I fancy a good sausage and mash.” He smiled his enigmatic smile that never ceased to win Berdie’s heart.
“I’ve never been fond of truffles, really.” Berdie partook in the general sentiment. “The earthen ones that is. Umm, but I do love the chocolate ones.”
She and Hugh enjoyed an easy laugh. He put his arm around her shoulder.
“What say we grab a quiet snug at the Pork and Barrel? And a three layer double chocolate cake for afters.”
“I’ve always thought the Pork and Barrel a fine eating establishment,” Berdie quipped.
“To the off then.”
Arm in arm, Berdie and Hugh made their way out of the crowd towards the bottom of the road.
“Did I say?” Berdie asked. “I’m invited to tea with the contessa tomorrow.”
“Indeed. I was invited as well, but I have a meeting with Reverend Wainwright in Mistcome Green.” Hugh didn’t look very disappointed. “You must tell me all about our mystery benefactor.”
A large pig, carved into a wooden half-barrel sign, came into view. It confirmed the presence of the Pork and Barrel.
Berdie and Hugh walked with an easy rhythm, anticipating their comely but appreciated evening meal. Actually, Berdie coveted this time alone with her life partner, and now it was just the two of them in the April dusk. Berdie squeezed Hugh’s arm.
“I love spring evenings,” she breathed.
Hugh placed a light kiss on Berdie’s cheek. “And it is a fine evening.”
****
A steady drizzle of rain wetted the windscreen of Berdie’s car as she turned into the short drive of Bampkingswith Lodge, the temporary home of Contessa Santolio. The thoroughly wet two-story house was modest compared to its great cousin that sat at the top of the road. Still, the lodge looked a fit guardian, keeping watch over the entry to the spreading grounds of the Preswood estate.
Lillie was standing at the bottom of the front garden walk, umbrella in hand, just where she said she would be waiting for Berdie to arrive. “Good,” Berdie said aloud.
After the telephone conversation she had with Lillie this morning, she wasn’t at all sure her friend would be keen to socialize. Following last evening’s events, Lillie confessed she had gone straight home, burrowed under multiple quilts where she swilled mugs of Horlicks, watched a Jane Austen DVD, and refused to answer calls. Even today, she was still reeling. Though apologetic for the dramatic departure, her simply put, “I don’t want to talk about him, or her, or any of it,” squelched any conversation Berdie had hoped to have on the matter.
“Berdie.” Lillie gave Berdie a hug watching carefully that umbrellas did not collide.
“Better spirits, then?” Berdie asked wryly.
Lillie became enlivened. “You know I’ve decided this could be a great deal of fun, discovering who this contessa is, what she’s about.”
“Indeed.” Berdie noticed the ravishing not-seen-before scarf that graced Lillie’s neck. “That’s new, and it suits you.”
“He sent it.” Lillie sniffed as if unaffected. “A parcel from White Window Box Gifts and Garden Shop, and three dozen red roses arrived this afternoon.” Lillie lifted her chin. “Typical. Flowers and gifts are supposed to put everything right. A reconciliation it is not, but it is lovely. She ran her fingers across the scarf. “And the roses do fragrance my home remarkably.”
“It’s a step in a forward direction,” Berdie quickly pointed out with an eye to getting on. “Now, onward to our discovery then.”
They walked to the entrance where Berdie rang the door chime. Almost instantly, a young woman was at the doorway.
“Please come,” she invited warmly. She stopped momentarily and drew close. “If you excuse,” the woman whispered. “The Contessa invites six people to tea. You are the only ones who come.” Her demonstrative brown eyes pleaded. “Contessa Santolio ees a good woman.”
Berdie sensed the tender heart of a caring person, modest and loyal. “Yes.” She nodded.
The woman stood aside so Berdie and Lillie could enter the quaint hall laid with earth-colored natural floor tiles. The walls were painted a handsome russet shade graced with paintings of the hunt. And the furnishings were fit for a country home.
The greeter took Berdie and Lillie’s umbrellas. She deposited the wet implements in an equine-shaped ceramic stand designed for that purpose.
The greeter’s coal black hair was pulled back in a French roll. She wore a bright yellow sundress that, Berdie decided, quite matched the sunny attitude of this woman. Her intense olive tone skin contrasted beautifully.
“The contessa ees een the drawing room,” she announced with a sense of decorum.
With gracious movement, she guided Berdie and Lillie the few steps needed to enter the room where the contessa stood near an antique sideboard.
“Mrs. Elliott, Meess Foxworth, thees ees Contessa Carlotta Francesca Santolio.”
Berdie wasn’t sure if she should curtsy or applaud after that royal introduction. Instead, she simply smiled. “Thank you for inviting us to tea, Contessa.”
“Yes,” Lillie added.
“I’m so glad you could come,” The contessa spoke with only the slightest of Italian accents.
Her fashionable dark hair just touched the shoulders of her silk print dress that was bright with the colors of a Mediterranean village. The rose of her cheeks plus shimmering lips brought drama to the light tan skin that appeared casually kissed by the sun. “And you’ve met my assistant, Ortensia.”
The yellow clad aide offered a swift tip of the head.
“Please, sit down.” The contessa waved her hand towards the leather couch where Berdie and Lillie seated themselves.
“Ortensia, porti gli antipasti per favore,” the co
ntessa gently directed.
Ortensia left the room.
Elegantly, Contessa Carlotta positioned herself in the leather chair opposite the couch.
Though the meeting was formal, Berdie didn’t have an overwhelming sense of pretense from the woman. In fact, the aristocrat seemed fairly grounded. But a nagging uneasiness also attended the meeting.
“It’s gracious of you, Contessa, to invite us to tea. Are you enjoying Aidan Kirkwood?” Berdie asked politely.
“It is a respite.” The contessa turned her face to a nearby window that overlooked the garden road. Even in grey light the contessa’s striking eyes shone lightest of liquid green. This was not unusual for an Italian, especially if their roots were Northern Italy.
“Italy is lovely as well.” Berdie worked at establishing some kind of conversation.
The contessa turned her face back to her guests. “My husband and I lived in Milan.” The lovely woman paused. “Count Santolio died eighteen months ago. He was a wonderful man.” Her voice held a solemn note.
“Oh, I’m sure he was. I am sorry,” Berdie consoled, “I wasn’t aware.”
“No. Nor I,” Lillie added. “So, have you been on a tour then?”
“Tour?”
“What I mean is,” Lillie’s verbal pace slowed some, “when a friend of mine lost her husband, she went abroad, just after, to ease her grief.”
“If you are asking why I am in Aidan Kirkwood, no, I am not touring.”
Lillie rubbed her hand on the arm of the couch. “I see.”
The contessa arose and stood by the window. She clasped her hands together. “Just after my husband received word of his critical health diagnosis, we came to England. It was for business, but we prolonged our stay. It was a holiday, a momentary reprieve from his demanding work. We spent a quiet day in your village: unattended, peaceful. It was a gift.”
Ortensia entered the room with a tray of chocolate truffles. The contessa nodded. The aide offered the silver tray of delights, along with gold-colored linen napkins, to Berdie and Lillie.
“Thank you,” they said almost in unison.
When Ortensia offered the tray to the hostess, she waved it away.
Berdie bit into the truffle and nearly swooned. The rich chocolate was liquid silk that clung to the tongue and slid down the throat, after which an edge of orange sweetly tingled in the mouth.
Up from the Grave Page 10
