by VL McBeath
Mr Bell studied his pocket watch. “She’ll probably be there already, knowing her. She organises the hymn books and the collection plates before everyone arrives. She keeps the place running.”
“I’m surprised she has the time if she’s hosting a luncheon as well.”
“She has a wonderful cook and a couple of good maids. She leaves everything to them.”
“Lucky her.” Eliza stood up and poured them all a cup of tea.
“What can you tell us about the other guests?” Connie asked.
“Not a lot, if I’m being honest. I’ve no idea who’s been invited although I imagine the Cranford’s neighbours on the other side, Mr and Mrs McRae, will be there. Mrs McRae is never out of the Cranfords’ house, not while Mr Cranford’s at work at any rate. The thing is, she’s a strange woman; I can’t fathom her out at all.”
Archie almost choked on his tea. “I’m sure that’s not the first time a man’s said that about a woman.”
Mr Bell failed to see the funny side. “Maybe not, but you mark my words, she’s very peculiar. I expect Mrs Cranford will alternate the ladies and men around the dining table and so I wouldn’t laugh until you find out who you’re sitting next to.”
It was turned half past twelve by the time Mr Bell’s carriage returned from church and pulled into the backyard. As it did, Eliza peered out at the grey sky.
“I think this is as light as it’s going to get today. It’s a good job we don’t have far to walk after luncheon. At this rate, it’ll be dark when we leave, and the moon won’t make any impression through these clouds.”
“Didn’t you notice our new streetlights? They’re a lot brighter than the old gas lamps.”
“I did, as it happens, but I haven’t seen them lit.” Eliza sighed. “I don’t suppose we’ll be getting them in Moreton for a while.”
“We don’t need them,” Connie said. “The gas lamps are perfectly good enough. Who wants bright lights blazing all night?”
“Not you, obviously. Come on, let’s get into the house. Hopefully Cook will have a pot of tea waiting for us. We’ve made good time, and we needn’t go next door for another half an hour or so.”
Mr Bell shook his head. “There’s no ‘or so’ about it. Mrs Cranford may be friendly, but she is a stickler for punctuality. We need to be there at one o’clock on the dot.”
Connie laughed. “The way she was still talking to everyone when we left church, I doubt she’ll be home herself by then.”
“Oh, she will. Didn’t you see Mr Cranford waiting outside in their carriage? They’ll have arrived back while we’ve been sitting here.”
Half an hour later, huddled beneath several umbrellas, Mr Bell led them up the Cranfords’ driveway. The house was of similar design to his, with a large bay window to the right of the front door and the attic rooms nestling snugly within the tiles of the roof. They arrived just in time to see the door open and their fellow guests step inside.
“Anyone you know?” Eliza whispered.
“I do and fortunately I get on with them well enough. I’ll be surprised if that’s all she’s invited though.” He glanced over his shoulder. “The others must either have been early or they’re late.”
A maid waited for them to reach the hallway before closing the door and taking their wet things.
“Mr Bell, I thought I recognised your voice.” An immaculately dressed woman wearing a frilled blouse over a fluted skirt walked towards them, her shoes clipping on the terracotta floor tiles.
“Mrs Cranford, how lovely you look.” Mr Bell took the hand she offered him and kissed the back. “Let me introduce the family.”
Mrs Cranford wore a broad smile as Eliza stepped forward. “Mrs Thomson, how delightful to meet you at last. I’m so sorry I didn’t have a chance to talk to you in church, but you know how it is. One has to divide one’s attention between everyone.”
Eliza returned her smile. “Please, think nothing of it, Mrs Cranford. Given we were coming for luncheon, it was quite right you spent time with everyone else.”
“Now, please, no more Mrs Cranford, it sounds so formal. All my friends call me Rosamund.”
“My, I’m honoured, but only if you call me Eliza.”
Rosamund put a hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “I should be delighted to, and this must be Mr Bell’s other guest.”
Eliza took Connie by the arm and pulled her into the conversation. “This is my good friend and next-door neighbour, Mrs Connie Appleton. She’s helped in a lot of the murder cases I’ve been involved with.”
“Really?” Rosamund’s eyes sparkled. “How very exciting. I’m so looking forward to you telling me all about them, although I suppose I’d better do my duty as hostess first. Let me introduce you to everyone.” She linked her arm through Eliza’s and led her down the hall towards the drawing room. The door was open as they approached, and Eliza peered inside to see a room in sharp contrast to the hall with its wood panelling and dark colours. On the far wall were two large windows overlooking the garden with an extraordinarily tall Christmas tree between them decorated with an array of baubles and candles. The light reflected off the pale walls giving the illusion of brightness, even on this darkest of days. The furniture consisted of an elegant selection of chairs, which were placed in small groups around the room.
“Betty, look who’s here.” Rosamund ushered them towards a woman of similar age and stature to herself, who was in front of the fire talking to an elderly couple.
“This is Mr Bell’s daughter, Mrs Eliza Thomson. Do you remember, I was telling you about her? Eliza, this is my neighbour, Mrs Betty McRae, and her next-door neighbours, Mr and Mrs Reed.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Eliza said. “This is my companion, Mrs Connie Appleton.”
A smile beamed across Rosamund’s face as she pulled Connie into the group. “Connie’s another one who does some sleuthing. Isn’t it thrilling?”
“Ridiculous if you want my opinion.” Mr Reed stood up straight with his hands behind his back. “Not at all the sort of thing women should be involved with.”
“Oh Ros, darling, he’s right. Why do you get so excited about things like this?” Betty’s smile slipped into a pout. “I’m sure it’s frightfully tedious.”
“It has its moments.” Eliza forced her smile to stay on her lips as she glanced between the two women. “But I’m sure we’ll try not to bore you with any of the details if you’re not interested.”
Betty pursed her lips. “Oh, I’ll hear all about it, anyway. Rosamund obviously failed to mention that as well as being her neighbour, we’re very close friends. We go everywhere together, don’t we, Ros?”
Rosamund put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “We do. Everywhere.”
“You must forgive me then if you thought me rude in church this morning.” A frown settled on Eliza’s brow. “I’d swear I didn’t see you.”
The smile on Betty’s face disappeared and the look in her eyes became unreadable as she stared at a tall gentleman with dark hair standing beside the Christmas tree. “There’s no need to apologise, I wasn’t able to make it this morning. Something cropped up.”
“I’m sure we all miss a service from time to time…” Eliza stopped when the man who was the object of Betty’s attention glanced across the room and made his way towards them. A second, shorter man with greying hair joined him.
As soon as they were within touching distance, Rosamund extended her arm and pulled the second gentleman into the group.
“And about time too,” she said to him. “It’s awfully rude to stand on the other side of the room when we have guests. Eliza, Connie, this is my husband Mr Cranford. Darling, this is the Mrs Thomson I was telling you about, and her friend Mrs Appleton.”
Mr Cranford gave the ladies a slight bow before extending his hand to Mr Bell, who stood behind them. “Glad you could make it, old chap. This must be your son-in-law.”
Mr Bell chuckled. “There’s no fooling you, I see. Yes, this is Dr Thomson. U
nfortunately, we couldn’t persuade my grandson Henry to give up his party this weekend. He’s up at Cambridge at the moment and sounds like he’s making the most of it.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Dr Thomson.” Mr Cranford offered him his hand. “Please excuse my wife, but she’s been so excited about meeting Mrs Thomson that I believe she’s forgotten to introduce everyone else.”
“No need to apologise, I’m sure. I know how excitable women can be.” Archie smirked at Eliza when she glared at him.
“Well, it’s still no excuse. Now, let me finish the introductions.” He brought the taller man into the discussion. “This is Mr Cameron McRae, my next-door neighbour and husband to the lovely Betty here. Not that he sees much of her given she’s always here.”
The two couples laughed, but the pause in the conversation was a second too long. Archie hurriedly extended his hand to Mr McRae. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Aye, and you too.”
Mr Cranford patted his neighbour on the back. “I say. It sounds as if you and Dr Thomson have something in common, Cameron. Are you Scottish, Dr Thomson?”
“I am indeed,” Archie said, “although I didn’t think anyone would still be able to tell after all my years in and around London. I imagine with a name like McRae it’s not so easy to hide. Have you been down here long?”
“Longer than I care to remember!” Mr McRae’s jawline relaxed, and he allowed a smile to cross his lips. “I came down here for a job, met Betty and never went back.”
“That sounds familiar.” Archie laughed. “I don’t know how these women do it.”
“Oh yes you do.” Rosamund beamed at them. “They are simply so irresistible that you couldn’t bear to be parted from them. Now, before we say anything else, let me thank you all for coming to our little winter solstice luncheon. Not that we celebrate it, of course, but as it’s today, I thought we should have a drink to mark the occasion.”
As if on cue a maid arrived carrying a silver tray containing a selection of glasses and a large jug.
“Oh my, that smells good.” Connie sniffed at the aroma. “Mulled wine I would say, with cinnamon and cloves. It always reminds me of Christmas.”
Rosamund smiled as she walked to the table where the maid was setting down the tray. “You’re absolutely right, and what better time to drink it. The weather’s been so dreadful that I decided a warm drink would be much more appropriate than a gin punch … and we didn’t want tea!” She laughed at her own joke.
“You always do the right thing.” Betty moved to Rosamund’s side as the maid filled each glass and handed them to her mistress.
“Eliza, let me give you the first glass but be careful with it, it’s still hot. Not that it will take long to cool. Connie, you have this next one.”
“What wonderful glass holders.” Eliza held the delicate handle as she fingered the intricate detail on the sterling silver bases.
“Aren’t they just? Mr Cranford recently ordered some for the store and allowed me to have a set as a present. Unfortunately, I only have six and so the men will have to mind their fingers.” She tittered to herself as she handed around the rest of the glasses.
“What is it you do down here?” Archie asked Mr McRae once they’d both received their drinks.
“I’m an engineer. I design bridges for the railways.”
Eliza blew across the top of her drink. Not more railways.
Archie nodded. “I suppose they’re laying a lot more track down here than they are back home.”
“They’re not doing badly in Scotland, especially as the weather’s often bad up there, but they can’t get enough men down here and so the pay’s better. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Excuse me for interrupting.” Eliza placed a hand on Mr McRae’s arm. “I think Rosamund wants to say something.”
With her glass raised in the air, Rosamund tapped the side with a small silver spoon. “Can I propose a toast for our little gathering and wish you all a peaceful midwinter’s day? Let us also give thanks that from tomorrow the days will start getting longer again.”
“Hear hear.” Betty bounced on the spot as she raised her glass. “Thank you to our wonderful Rosamund for having us here today.”
Mr McRae followed suit. “To a peaceful midwinter’s day.”
“Why didn’t you join my toast to Rosamund?” Betty glared at her husband as everyone followed his lead.
Mr McRae’s eyes narrowed as he stared back at Betty. “It was hardly a toast, it was just a thank you.”
“It was still worth repeating…”
Mr Bell stepped forward and raised his glass. “To our wonderful hostess, Mrs Cranford. Thank you for having us.”
Rosamund flashed a broad smile as she acknowledged the toast and after taking a mouthful of wine she moved towards Mr Bell, who stood between Eliza and Connie.
“Mr Bell, that was very sweet of you. You have a lovely father, Eliza.”
“Yes, I’m very fortunate.” Eliza’s smile disappeared as Betty pushed past her, almost causing her to spill her drink.
“Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry.” Rosamund picked up a napkin to wipe Eliza’s dress. “Did it go on your skirt?”
“No, I don’t think so … although wearing such a dark red means that even if it did, it won’t stain. Let’s not worry about it.”
“Well, I must apologise for my friend. I’m sure I’ve no idea what’s got into her.” Rosamund turned to Mr Bell. “Would you mind awfully if I stole Eliza from you for a few minutes? I’ve been dying to talk to her all week and I have a suggestion I want to put to her.”
“Not at all. Mr Reed and I are only talking about the changes to the South Eastern Railway since the merger.”
Mr Reed shook his head. “Terrible business it was too…”
Eliza rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, Rosamund, lead me somewhere else. I’d really rather not listen to that.”
Rosamund giggled as she led Eliza and Connie away from the fire. “These men and their trains, they never seem to tire of them.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Now, before we take a seat, let me top your glasses up and then you can tell me about your sleuthing. I want to hear all about it.”
Chapter Three
Rosamund led them to the drinks table before they continued to a collection of seats near the Christmas tree.
“Now then, what can you tell me?” Rosamund adjusted her skirt to make herself comfortable. “How do you always manage to work out who the murderer is?”
“There’s not much to tell, really. It’s just a matter of keeping your eyes and ears open.”
“I’m sure it’s not.” Connie’s cheeks were red. “If ever there’s a murder to investigate, I spend most of my time with Eliza, but I don’t see or hear half the things she does.”
“That’s because you’re not paying attention, dear.” Eliza patted her friend’s hand.
“I pay as much attention as you, more sometimes. If you remember, I often recap what we’ve learned, but I never put all the pieces together and come up with the right answer.”
“What are you doing, starting without me?” Betty was at Rosamund’s side, her eyes boring into her. “I thought you said you were going to talk to them in the morning room. I was waiting for you in there.”
Rosamund stood up and offered Betty her chair. “I’m sorry, dear, but after the exit you made, I didn’t think you’d be joining us. But never mind, I apologised to Eliza for you and she was about to let us into some of her secrets.”
“You don’t need to know any of that, Ros. You’ll be perfectly capable of working things out yourself if you ever need to solve a murder, which I’m sure you never will.”
A gleam flitted across Rosamund’s eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong, my dear; now, don’t be such a killjoy and sit down, you might learn something yourself.”
Eliza sat up straight. “What are you thinking?”
Rosamund laughed. “Oh, don’t wor
ry, dear, I’m not about to murder anyone. I’m just teasing Betty here, because she can be frightfully miserable if she thinks I’m having fun and she’s not. Now, tell us, how do you catch these murderers?”
“Well, as I was saying, it’s about being alert, listening to what people have to say … and just as importantly being aware of what they don’t say. As long as you pay attention, it’s really not that difficult.” Eliza stopped when Connie tutted beside her. “What’s that for?”
Connie rolled her eyes at Rosamund. “It may be easy for her because she happens to be rather clever. Did Mr Bell tell you that she went to university when she was younger and has a degree in science?”
Rosamund’s eyes were wide. “Really? No. Why didn’t he tell me? He’s always talking about you, but he never mentioned that. Is that how you manage to pick up on things other people miss?”
Eliza shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know, although it could be because I have an analytical mind. Anyone can learn how to do it. Connie’s doing well enough, aren’t you?”
“It’s not terribly ladylike, being analytical.” Betty rolled her shoulders. “Men prefer ladies who don’t ask too many questions.”
“Of course they do!” Eliza laughed. “That way they keep themselves to themselves while they find out everything about us. Wouldn’t you rather have a husband who didn’t ask questions?”
Rosamund joined in Eliza’s laughter. “Oh, Eliza, you are funny. Mr Bell tells me you work as well.”
“I do. Once my son went up to Cambridge, I needed something to occupy my time. Shortly after he left, we moved to Moreton and Archie had a vacancy for an apothecary for the surgery. Since I have my science degree it seemed like a solution to both our problems. Plus, he doesn’t have to pay me as much money as if he hired someone in.”
Connie nudged her. “You get more than enough with new dresses. I’m sure Dr Thomson wouldn’t be buying them for any other helper.”
“I should hope not!” Eliza drained the mulled wine from the bottom of her glass and placed a hand on her chest. “Oh my, that wine’s gone straight to my head. I’d better not have any more.”
