by Sophie Brent
“Uncle Lucien and Rosa are due back in three weeks. Maybe these roses will still be here waiting for her?”
“I hope so,” Erin smiled as she turned the key in the heavy wooden door and stepped inside the cottage. “Mind your head! That beam is a little low.”
Erin turned, picked up her bag and walked quickly across the fine parquet oak floor of the cottage to the beautiful kitchen/diner which overlooked the rear garden.
Rosa had chosen a cream colour scheme so that the small cottage was light and welcoming rather than dark and gloomy. The fabrics and furnishings had been added to over the years, but she had always loved deep red and fresh green and the overall colour scheme was distinctive but still warm. This was the place that Erin had come to know almost as well as her room over the deli. A second home in so many ways.
“I like that stone fireplace,” Matt said as he carried two of Emma’s crates through to the living room. “It must be cozy in winter.”
“Very,” Erin nodded and started unpacking her bag onto the well-used kitchen table. “There’s a wood-burning stove in here when the weather turns really cold, but Rosa doesn’t mind turning the central heating on. Once an Italian, always an Italian. If the temperature drops below twenty degrees, she is officially freezing.”
She gestured with her head towards the table as she filled the electric kettle at the sink and turned it on. “Take a seat and I’ll get the coffee on. Zoe shouldn’t be too long. She had just finished the press release for the family when I called and to be honest, I think she was glad of an excuse to get away.”
“It’s a tough situation,” Matt nodded but leaned against the wall instead. “Nice place. As hideouts go, I’ve seen a lot worse.”
“Don’t forget private and secluded. You can scream and cry all you want and there are only a few neighbours to hear you.”
“Does a lot of that go on? You surprise me. I thought this part of Kingsmede was a rural retreat.”
Erin measured the Italian blend ground coffee into a large cafetiere. “Did you notice the cottage for sale we passed just down the road? Yes? That belongs to Rachel Ellis. The woman we helped to track down for the murder of her very married boyfriend last month. It is a lovely cottage but it’s still for sale, so you can reach your own conclusions from that.”
“Ah, so not so much of a retreat from the real world, after all. I have to admit, it is very special around here. I love the garden.”
Matt pushed his hands into his trouser pockets and stared out at the flowerbeds and shrubs that edged a narrow strip of lawn behind the cottage. Beyond that were the low chalk hills of the Downs and from where Erin was standing, she could see sheep grazing in open fields and dark splashes of old woodland dotted the hillside.
“Are those lemon trees?” he asked.
“Rosa drove all the way from Italy with three young trees hidden in the back of her car. Very naughty! They seem to do well here. The garden faces south, and she cossets them at regular intervals.”
Erin filled the cafetiere with hot water from the kettle, opened the back door and stepped outside onto the sun-warmed golden flagstones on the small patio behind the cottage.
“This is Rosa’s favourite spot,” she said to Matt who had followed her outside into the warm sunshine. “The terracotta pots over there are sweet basil and oregano and this is lemon balm. It can get out of hand if you plant it in the soil, but it absolutely thrives over here.”
She let her head flop back so that the sun could warm her face. “When I was young, I would come out here with Rosa very summer day that I could, and we would make real lemonade from the lemons picked from those trees. She would fill some champagne flutes with sparkling water, and we would pretend that we were at some fancy party. It was magical. And it is still is. In fact, I should be planning some sort of welcome home party for the two runaways. Want to join in?”
She held up her right hand before he had a chance to reply. “In fairness, I should warn you that some major garden management will be needed to restore this weed-invested jungle back to its former glory before they get back, or I will be in big trouble. It’s amazing how things can get so tangled and out of control in only a few months.”
“Are you referring to the garden or life in general?” Matt grinned and watched her pour the coffee. “Of course, I would be very pleased to help. A couple of major projects have just ended, so I have some time to finish clearing the bookshop to make way for your new bistro. And maybe learn how to tell the difference between the weeds and plants you actually want to keep.”
“Ah,” Erin coughed and almost spilled her drink on the patio. “You are not a gardener then.”
Matt replied by putting his beaker down on the metal mesh patio table and taking a few steps over to the nearest flower bed. He pointed to a bright orange blossom. “This I recognize. Is it a marigold? Am I right? Great. Now, as for the rest of them?”
Erin watched Matt meticulously examine half a dozen plants in turn before finally butting in. “Okay, I get the message. Some training and supervision may be required. Thanks, I appreciate the offer.”
She was just about to talk dates when the front doorbell rang. “That will be Zoe! I’ll be right back!” Erin instantly put down her untouched coffee, jogged to the front door and held it wide open to let her old friend into the cottage.
Her reward was a quick hug. “Wow, the cottage looks exactly the same as I remember. It never changes, does it?” Then Zoe sniffed the air. “Is that coffee I can smell? Fiona’s family only drinks tea and I was beginning to dread seeing another cup of tepid weak Earl Grey.”
“Hey! I love tea. But yes, coffee and cake are provided by the management. Matt is outside on the terrace enjoying the view. Why don’t you take my coffee and I’ll be out in a minute with the cake? You’re going to need it when we show you what we found in Emma’s room.”
Erin dashed into the kitchen and cut thick slices of the cherry and almond loaf that she had pulled from the freezer just before setting out to Abbotsdown Hall that morning.
After a couple of hours in a cool bag in the back of Erin’s car, the loaf had defrosted perfectly. A quick mouthful confirmed that it was moist and delicious, with an enticing aroma of ground almonds and added almond extract. The poached fresh Morello cherries had retained that fresh sweet tang. Perfect!
Erin quickly poured another coffee and carried her beaker and the cake out onto the terrace.
“Tuck in, everyone. Cherry and almond loaf today. I hope that … Zoe! You might wait until the rest of us had a chance to try some.”
“Sorry, but this is amazing, and I am starving,” Zoe muffled as she bit into her second slice of cake. “You were right,” she swallowed, “about Aunt Sarah not wanting to cook. Every take-away restaurant around Kingsmede is on speed-dial in that house. Ethan and Adam were like ravenous wolves. They almost grabbed your lemon drizzle cakes out of my hands before anyone else saw them. It was a battle to save enough to take to Fiona and the girls.”
“How is Fiona?” Erin asked as she cut more slices of cake.
“Not good,” Zoe shook her head and focused on the overgrown flowerbeds. “She still blames herself for not going down with Emma to the kitchens. Nothing we can say seems to help, so she stays in her room sobbing all day, or worse, going over and over what happened and how it would all have been different if she had been there for her friend.”
Zoe took a slurp of coffee and gave a low groan of pleasure. “My cousin has a very short and selective memory. Very short indeed,” she murmured and took another long drink.
“What do you mean, Zoe?” Matt asked, stretching out to take another slice of cake.
Zoe opened her mouth to speak as though she had just slipped up and been caught out, then smiled and shook her head. “It was nothing. Forget I mentioned it.”
Erin looked across at Matt who raised his eyebrows and gave her a quizzical look.
“When I agreed to clear Emma’s room this morning, I had no idea
what I would be getting into, Zoe. Matt was with me when we walked into that bedroom, and it was a mess. Except for one thing…”
Erin’s voice faltered and she looked across at Matt, who gave her a single slow nod of encouragement.
“It looks like Emma had been doing detailed background checks on all of the wedding party and especially the bridesmaids.” Erin reached out and startled Zoe by squeezing her hand. “She had whole dossiers of information inside the box marked ‘Hen Party’ and from what I saw, it was all designed to humiliate or embarrass that person if it came out. I’m really sorry.”
To Erin’s astonishment, Zoe reacted to the news by throwing back her head with her eyes closed.
“Oh, Erin, you have no idea what a relief that is. I was beginning to think that I had got it all wrong. This changes everything.”
Zoe leaped up, tugging Erin with her and looked from side to side. “Please tell me that you didn’t leave the box at the hotel!’
“No, Matt brought it into the living room with all the invoices and receipts that you were looking for, and… Zoe?”
Too late, her friend had already jumped into action, jogged back into the cottage and was tugging open the lids on the heavy plastic storage crates. Immediately her eyes scanned the contents until her gaze settled on the same wallet that Erin had been looking at in the hotel.
“Found it,” she cried out and held the wallet high in the air. “Erin, I am going to need another slice of cake and a lot more coffee. I have a lot of work to do!”
“Not a chance, Zoe Hanson,” Erin replied and folded her arms. “You have two friends here who have lugged this stuff all the way from the hotel. You are not reading one word of those files until you tell us precisely what happened at that girls’ party on Friday night. Until you do, there is no chance of coffee or cake.”
“What! You can’t be serious,” Zoe cried out. “Matt, help me out here!”
“Sorry, Zoe. You heard what Erin said. Report first, then refreshments. That’s how it works. Your decision.”
Zoe’s shoulders slumped and she rolled her eyes in submission. “You win. Pass that cake.”
Chapter Eight
Zoe sighed and slumped back in her chair. “I’m so sorry, Erin. I had no idea that it was as bad as this.”
They had moved inside and were sitting hunched together around the small kitchen table in the cottage with the back door open to let some fresh air in.
Zoe had taken the pages from the wallet and spread them out on the table so that they could all see the printouts, newspaper cuttings, and hand-written notes that Emma had collated on each of the bridesmaids.
“Don’t ask me why, but after the dinner on Friday evening, I had a horrible feeling that Emma had planned to ruin Fiona’s wedding from the start, but I had nothing to back it up with. Until now.”
Erin stared at her friend in astonishment, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. “Ruin the wedding? Zoe, Emma was trying desperately to create the best wedding possible. You can see the amount of work she put into it. What makes you think that she was trying to ruin it?”
“Did Fiona tell you that Emma had changed the menu for the wedding reception? I found out on Friday morning that it wasn’t just the desert that she had changed, it was all the vegetarian dishes and the fish course. She ruined the meal, without consulting Fiona or her mother. And then there were the dresses. Emma deliberately ordered the wrong size bridesmaid’s dresses and then told Maya and Kate that they would just have to fit into them because it was too late to order new ones. She planned it that way.”
“What possible reason would she have?”
“I don’t know the answer to that question, Erin, and I wish I did. Emma was one of their best friends at one time, so something must have gone wrong. Take a look at this photo.”
Zoe pointed to a group photo, which showed a group of five students sitting on a sunny lawn, surrounded by books and papers. It reminded Erin so much of her university studies, that it might have been taken of her group of friends.
“They were all so young. Is that Fiona and Maya?” Erin asked.
“Well spotted. Emma is the one on the left wearing the university sweatshirt. The three girls were all studying accountancy and business,” Zoe replied. “From what Fiona told me, Harry and Ethan met on the same IT course and were good pals all through university.”
Erin barely recognized the smiling happy young student grinning back at her in the photo as the hard-nosed woman she had spoken to, emailed and then finally met only a few days earlier. The Emma in the photo looked full of life and energy.
“People change in ten years. I guess they all want different things now. Maybe that’s all it was?”
“You have a wonderful kind heart, Erin Kelly,” Zoe smiled, “but Emma wasn’t quite as generous. Not by a long shot.”
Matt stretched his arms out on the table and gestured towards Zoe. “Help us understand what happened to make you think that she was scheming,” he suggested. “All we know is what happened after the fire alarm, not before. Please. Take us through it.”
“You’re right, I’m running ahead of myself. The trouble started during the dinner, right after coffee,” Zoe said, then grinned across at Erin. “I have to tell you that I wasn’t kidding about those mini-cakes. They are amazing! Much better than the desserts that the hotel served. At least we had something nice to eat before it all went horribly wrong.”
“Did Emma start an argument?” Erin asked as casually as she could.
Just the mention of Emma’s name made a muscle on the side of Zoe’s neck flex and she slowly sipped her coffee before answering.
“Actually, it was Fiona’s mum who started the ball rolling. Auntie Sarah was praising Fiona about her promotion at work and telling everyone how proud she was of Ethan and Fiona and how much they had achieved since leaving university.”
Zoe lifted her beaker and waved it towards Matt. “Which is the truth,” she confirmed. “Fiona has just been made a director at the accountancy firm where she works with Ethan. It’s a lot more responsibility, but she’s earned it and every mum has the right to be proud of their daughter.”
Zoe closed her eyes for a second and exhaled slowly. “We were all delighted for her and clapping and toasting. Then I realized that the only person not congratulating Fiona was Emma. She was just sitting on her chair, in total silence, with a look of fury on her face. Emma was at the other end of the table from Fiona, but she practically leaped up and interrupted them right in the middle of the conversation.”
Zoe picked up the sheets of paper on the table and began stuffing them back into the wallet, each sheet being pushed harder and faster than the next.
“The next thing we knew, Emma was bragging about her successful business. How she had set up on her own company instead of working for someone else. How she was in charge of her own finances and running a brilliant company that was doing very well. Because we are nice girls, we all nodded and congratulated her, but it wasn’t enough.”
Erin watched Zoe as she stopped what she was doing and pressed both of her hands flat on the table, her gaze fixed firmly on the photo.
“Emma was sitting next to Maya and she turned to her and started laughing and calling Maya a loser because she was working for a small finance company instead of running her own business. She even called Maya pathetic in front of the other girls and my aunt.”
“That was hard!” Erin cried out. “Not everyone wants to be a business owner.”
“It was humiliating for the poor girl, Erin. What do you do in that situation? The last thing Maya wanted to do was embarrass Fiona, so she kept quiet and took it. Hoping that Emma would stop and change the subject. I tried talking about the Seychelles and what their plans were for the honeymoon, but Emma wouldn’t let it drop. She just kept lashing out at Maya. Then she tried to ridicule Kate for being a fine artist instead of having a real job. That, was when Rebecca stepped in. And things really spun out of control.”
“Plenty! What none of us realized was that Rebecca had worked for a finance company until about a year ago and guess who was working at the same company when she was there? The one and only Emma Wilson. Rebecca had recognized her immediately but didn’t say anything until she started bragging and putting Maya down.”
“Wait,” Matt said. “I thought she was running her own company. Is that new?”
“All lies,” Zoe said and slapped her hand down hard on the wooden table, making the cups jump. “Emma was a junior accounts clerk at the company when Rebecca was working there. There was no successful business. She was making the whole thing up just to score some points because Fiona and Ethan had become so successful.”
“She had lied about running her own company?” Erin gasped.
“Completely! Emma had put together a file on Rebecca but was obviously hoping that she wouldn’t say anything about when they had met before. Wrong! It’s amazing what you can find out on the Internet in five minutes at a dinner table. As of two weeks ago, Emma was still working there. Her business had gone bust years ago!”
“So now it was Emma’s turn to be embarrassed. That must have hurt.” Matt nodded.
“She was furious. Then she dug herself even deeper and decided to have a go at Rebecca, calling her a gold-digger because she used to date one of the company directors where they worked. Only, Rebecca was too quick for her and destroyed Emma’s arguments every single time she tried to put her down. It was a total slam.”
“Gold-digger,” Erin repeated. “That’s what I saw written in the wallet. What a nightmare for you all. It must have been horrible for Fiona.”
