by Agatha Frost
“Are you okay?” Jessie asked softly, a hand resting on her shoulder. “He just turned up here. I didn’t invite him.”
“I’m fine,” Julia lied, forcing back the tears and injecting a smile into her voice. “It’s your home too, Jessie. You can invite anyone you want here. Grab the ice cream from the freezer. We can eat it with a film. You can pick.”
Julia took the two teas into the living room where Jessie was waiting with two spoons, an open tub of vanilla ice cream, and the Breakfast at Tiffany’s DVD menu on the screen. Julia was touched.
“I know it’s old and boring, but it’s your favourite film,” Jessie said meekly.
Julia sat next to Jessie, rested her head on her shoulder, grabbed a spoon, tucked into the ice cream, and pressed play on the film. Even if Barker wasn’t there with her, she was going to try and enjoy her evening with three of her favourite people: Audrey Hepburn, George Peppard, and Jessie.
Chapter Seven
Wednesday evenings had become one of Julia’s favourite days of the week. It was the day Jessie spent at college studying towards her apprenticeship, and when she came home, she brought Dolly and Dom with her for dinner. Cooking for the three of them had become a routine Julia looked forward to because having a house full of teenagers was something she never thought she would experience. This Wednesday, however, there was a space at the table where Barker should have been. Julia had even set a place for him before she remembered.
If Dolly and Dom noticed the lack of Barker’s presence, they didn’t mention it. Julia wondered if Jessie had told them not to bring him up, but she wasn’t sure they would remember not to if she had. It always amused Julia how much they attempted to probe Barker about his cases, and how he always tried his best to dodge their questioning, answering them as a politician would; by not answering them at all. If he had told them he was investigating the murder of a rainbow coloured elephant, they probably would have lapped it up.
“This casserole is top quality,” Dolly mumbled through a mouthful of food, barely pausing for air. “Thanks, Ju.”
“It’s Julia,” Jessie corrected her without missing a beat. “Ju-li-a.”
“I like Ju more,” Dom added, also barely pausing. “Rolls off the tongue. Juuuuuuu.”
“Ju-Ju,” Dolly added. “Sounds like chew-chew.”
Jessie rolled her eyes, but Julia chortled. Most of the time, the twins spoke their own language of childlike gibberish, but it distracted her, and she needed that. They made Jessie look completely adult in comparison, despite being the same age.
After dinner, Jessie helped Julia take the dishes through to the kitchen. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to Julia that Jessie had glanced at Barker’s empty space more than once.
“Did you invite him?” Jessie asked as she scraped the leftovers into the bin.
“He said he needed space,” Julia said, trying to stay as calm as possible. “It’s the least I can do.”
“He’ll come ‘round,” Jessie said, smiling at Julia hopefully in the dark reflection of the window. “He’s not so bad.”
Julia smiled back, but she wasn’t as sure as Jessie. She had seen the hurt in his eyes, and she had caused that. She looked down as she filled the sink with water, hoping she could hold back the tears until she was alone. Why hadn’t she just been honest with him from the start?
“Why is he even in Peridale?” Jessie asked. “I thought Jerrad lived in London?”
“I don’t know,” Julia said, not having given him much thought because of Barker consuming her thoughts. “I haven’t seen him again.”
“Happy Bean is back open,” Jessie reminded her. “Do you think he’s involved with that?”
The thought had crossed Julia’s mind, but she couldn’t figure out why Jerrad was interested in investing in a small chain coffee shop in a village that barely featured on the map. Jerrad dealt with high-stakes property investment, which had helped him get very rich over the years.
“He looked different,” Julia said. “Like it was him, but it wasn’t him. He seemed thinner and taller, and he looked like he had more hair.”
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Julia pulled her hands out of the soapy water and wiped them on a tea towel, leaving Jessie to take over. She popped her head into the dining room, where Dolly and Dom were thumb wrestling; neither of them seemed to be winning.
“Hello, Julia,” her father said when she opened the door. “Are you busy?”
“I’ve just finished dinner,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder to the kitchen and spotting Jessie craning her neck around the side of the fridge. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” he said, tucking his face into the high collar of his overcoat. “Do you want to come for a walk?”
Julia didn’t question him. She swapped her slippers for her comfortable shoes, told Jessie she would be ten minutes, and followed her dad out of her garden and onto the winding lane. Instead of walking back towards the village, he walked up the lane towards Peridale Farm, which was the last stop before the village ended.
“It’s a lovely night,” he said quietly as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and looked up at the dark sky, the last streaks of the pink sunset lingering on the horizon. “I need to get out more. I miss a lot being cooped up in that old manor.”
Julia bit her tongue. She almost reminded him that it had been his choice to marry a woman the same age as his eldest daughter and join her reclusive family, who lived in Peridale but had never been part of the community.
“How’s Katie’s father doing?” she asked, deciding it was better to continue with the small talk until he got to the point.
“He’s as good as he can be,” he said, sucking the cool night air through his teeth. “He’s comfortable. Since that last stroke, he hasn’t said a word, but Katie keeps trying. I think he knows she’s there, but it’s difficult for her.”
Julia thought back to the time Katie’s father, Vincent Wellington, had saved her life when she was being carried to her death by the murderer of Katie’s brother. If it hadn’t been for him pressing the emergency call button and waking everybody up, she would have followed Charles out of the window and down to her death.
“Your gran called,” he said as a car passed them on the narrow lane, the headlights blinding her. “She told me about Anthony, but half the village had already called by that point. I think people put two and two together and guessed I might know something because we used to be in business together.”
“You used to be more than that,” Julia said, remembering what her gran had said about them being friends from childhood. “He was your best man.”
“I was blind,” he said, dropping his head. “I wasted my life working with that man, avoiding my problems.”
A lump rose in Julia’s throat. She thought about all the times she had sat by her gran’s sitting room window waiting for her father to return from his many business trips. It hadn’t taken her long, even as a child, to realise the gaps between the visits home were growing and the time spent at home was shrinking. Their relationship had never repaired beyond that point. Seeing him twice in one week felt unusual for Julia, but she appreciated the effort he was putting in. She knew it would have taken a lot for him to swallow his pride and knock on her door.
“Why did you come here, Dad?” Julia asked, stopping and leaning against the wall before they reached Peridale Farm. “It’s not like you were passing by.”
He laughed softly and joined her in leaning against the wall. He ran his fingers through his thick, blow-dried hair, which was styled similarly to how Anthony’s had been, but brown and grey instead of yellow blonde.
“Your gran asked me about Anthony’s enemies,” he started, turning to look at her. “I apparently gave her the same answer as Barb. He wasn’t on a lot of people’s favourite’s lists, mine included.”
“Are you upset he was killed?”
He thought for a moment, looked up at the sky, and s
hrugged meekly with tight lips. Julia could tell that he was upset, which was more than she had seen from any of the man’s family so far. She knew it meant something deep down that the best man at his wedding was now dead, even if they hadn’t spoken in years.
“I wrote down a couple of names,” he said, ignoring the question. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small hand-written list, which was on thick Wellington monogrammed paper. “I know you’re looking into it. I gave the same list to the police, just to be fair.”
Julia looked over the names on the list, all of them belonging to men. She didn’t recognise any of them.
“Do any of these men live in Peridale?” Julia asked, knowing how far an antique dealer’s net could stretch.
“These two do,” he said, pointing to the top two names on the list. “Timothy Edwards and Mike Andre. I called some of my old contacts and they were more than forthcoming with names. According to them, Anthony had stopped trying to be even a little honest in the last couple of months and had been conning every single person he came into contact with. There’s definitely more, but this is a start.”
“It’s a good start,” Julia said, pocketing the list. “Thank you. Who do you think killed him, Dad?”
He sucked the air through his teeth once more and looked dead ahead at the horizon as the sky completely faded to black. Julia could make out the lights lining the motorway in the distance as the cars whizzed up and down the lanes, but they were too far away to hear.
“He was a cold man,” he said. “He’d been unfaithful to Rosemary for years, and I think she knew it.”
Julia thought about how unbothered she had been, and the apparent date she had been on with Jerrad. Julia almost told her father that her estranged husband was in the village, but she realised they had only met a couple of times over the course of their twelve-year marriage.
“Do you know any of the women who were his mistresses?” Julia asked as they set off back to her cottage. “That might help.”
“Not just women,” he said, his brows darting high up his lined forehead. “Anthony was never fussy when it came to that. The last I heard, he was seeing a woman from the hospital, but that was when we were still on speaking terms.”
Julia almost dismissed the information because it had been so long ago, but she suddenly remembered seeing the woman laying flowers at the coffee shop and how she had been sure she had seen her at the hospital Sue worked at. Julia had been so tired, she had thought the woman was just blaming her with her eyes because of the gossip she had heard, but as she thought back, she could see the grief burning behind the woman’s glassy gaze.
“I should be getting back,” he said, pausing at Julia’s gate before going any further. “Don’t forget Sunday lunch at the manor. Have you asked Sue yet?”
“We’ll come,” Julia said, not wanting to admit she had completely forgotten about the lunch, or to ask Sue. The look of hopefulness in her father’s eyes surprised her, and it made it impossible to refuse the invitation. “I promise.”
He nodded and backed away, before turning and walking down the winding lane towards the village. Across the road, Julia noticed Emily twitching at her net curtains. Julia waved, which caused Emily to quickly retreat back into the safety of her living room.
“What did he have to say?” Jessie asked as she wiped her hands, the washing up completely finished. “Didn’t want his money back, did he?”
“He came to give me information,” Julia said, clutching the note to her chest before passing it to Jessie. “Recognise any of those names?”
She knew it was a long shot, and she didn’t actually expect Jessie to know any of the men on the list, so she was shocked when the girl’s eyes opened wide and she nodded her head.
“Mike Andre,” she said with certainty. “He was a tutor at my college. Emigrated to Australia a couple of months ago. Who are these people?”
“Potential enemies of Anthony Kennedy,” Julia said as she pinned the note to the fridge under a cat magnet. “People my dad thinks might have been conned enough to resort to murder. If Mike Andre left Peridale months before the murder, that only leaves one other name on his list in the village.”
Julia pulled a pen from her kitchen’s clutter drawer, pulled the cap off with her teeth, and circled ‘Timothy Edwards’ until it was the only name she could see.
“It’s a good start,” she said, echoing what she had said to her dad.
“I’ll grab the phonebook,” Jessie said, already walking into the hallway. “I’ll start ringing those other names to see if any of them were near Peridale this weekend.”
Julia almost stopped her, but she let her return with the blue public directory phonebook. She knew all Jessie wanted to do was make herself useful, so if this were what she wanted to do, she would let her; it would keep her out of any real trouble.
While Jessie started ringing through the numbers in the dining room with Dolly and Dom, Julia took her mobile phone into the bathroom and called her sister.
“Sue? It’s me. Do you know a woman who works at your hospital who might have been having an affair with Anthony Kennedy?”
Chapter Eight
Peridale ran through Julia’s veins. It was the village she had been born in, along with generations of her family for as long as anybody could remember. Even though she had been living back in Peridale for two years, Julia still felt like a fool for running off with a charming man to the big, bright city. It had taken two years back in her natural habitat to realise the lure of something entirely different than what she had always known was what had tempted her so strongly. Now that she was back where she belonged, nothing could make her leave again.
During their marriage, Jerrad had made his feeling on Peridale clear. He thought it was a backwards, dead-end village, where things went to die and ideas were stifled. What he had always failed to realise was that it was a buzzing community filled with life and laughter. Julia had never forgotten that.
Remembering this made it even stranger to look out of her café window and see Jerrad across the village green clearing a table outside Happy Bean. Since opening an hour ago, four different villagers had come in to tell Julia that Anthony’s secret business partner was now running the coffee shop, which only confirmed her suspicions as to Jerrad’s sudden appearance in the village. The question she couldn’t stop asking herself was why? Why a coffee shop? Why in Peridale? Why now?
“We’ve run out of semi-skimmed milk,” Jessie said as she poured the last of it into a latte for Roxy Carter, one of Julia’s oldest friends from childhood, who was now a teacher at St. Peter’s Primary School in the village.
“He looks different,” Roxy said, tucking her flame red hair behind her ears as she joined Julia in staring out of the window at Jerrad as he slowly wiped a table, no doubt to taunt Julia. “I know I only met him a couple of times, but he looks different.”
“I know,” Julia mumbled. “I can’t figure out why.”
“You don’t still –”
“Have feelings for him?” Julia scoffed, the suggestion turning her stomach. “That’s the last thing on my mind right now.”
“Milk!” Jessie cried with a roll of her eyes as she tossed the empty carton in the bin and poured the steamed milk in with the espresso shot.
Julia took Roxy’s money and handed over the latte, before taking a five-pound note from the petty cash and joining Roxy in walking out of the café.
“He’s looking over,” Roxy said, squinting into the sun as she sipped her hot latte. “Mmmm, you’ve trained that girl well, Julia. She knows how to make coffee.”
“Jerrad doesn’t even like coffee,” Julia remembered aloud. “Why a coffee shop?”
“Even the dying towns have busy coffee shops,” she said before taking another sip of her latte. “Although you know I’ll always be loyal to you.”
Julia nodded her appreciation. After a fluke busy spell on Monday in the wake of the murder, Julia’s café had returned to the ghost town
it had become since Happy Bean had opened. Only a few of her most loyal customers were still popping in daily, Roxy being one of them.
“You don’t think it’s something I’m doing, do you?” Julia asked. “Maybe I’m just not good enough.”
“You’re the best baker this village has,” Roxy said as she darted in to peck Julia on the cheek. “Things will return to normal soon. The novelty will wear off and people will realise they miss your fresh cakes. You’ll see. I need to get back to the school, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Julia hoped she was right. For the sake of her business and keeping a roof over hers and Jessie’s heads, she prayed Roxy was right.
After grabbing four large bottles of milk and having a little chat with Shilpa, who was trying to tell Julia she thought Anthony poisoned himself out of guilt for what he had done to the village, Julia returned to her café. The hairs on the back of her neck immediately stood on end when she saw Jerrad sitting at the table nearest the counter, staring around her café with a look of contempt.
“I tried to get him out,” Jessie said desperately. “He won’t budge.”
“Threatened to ‘bash my head in’,” Jerrad said with a little chuckle, his fingers performing the air quotes sign, something he used to do all the time to mock Julia. She had forgotten how much it irritated her. “Where did you find this one, darlin’?”
“Jessie lives with me,” Julia said proudly as she marched back to the counter with the milk bottles in her hands. “And I’m not your ‘darlin’’, okay?”
Julia performed the air quotes, which only roused a small smirk from Jerrad. His right brow, the only one he could arch, darted up his forehead, and Julia was sure it reached closer to his hairline than she remembered.
“You did always have a thing for the waifs and strays,” he said as he picked dirt from under his nails. “Couldn’t pass a homeless person without tossing a quid at them. I always told you, you’d be better off ignoring them, so they learn their lesson.”
