Chapter 8
The pie shop opened at ten on Monday morning. There was a small queue of two, which Julia joined as number three, arriving just as the shop opened for business.
‘Morning, all!’ said the kind-faced woman who opened the glass door with a flourish, releasing the tantalising smell of hot baked goods into the fresh morning air.
‘Good morning, Delilah,’ said the chubby bald fellow at the front of the queue. He checked his watch. ‘Right on time, as always.’ Obviously a regular.
‘Can’t keep my customers waiting,’ she said, stepping back to encourage them in.
A very large man appeared holding a metal tray of golden triangles, steam rising from them.
His arms were so muscular that the big baking sheet looked like the tray from a child’s tea set.
No prizes for guessing that he must be Herbert.
He certainly matched Nicky’s description: ‘Size of a house, in the gym half the day pushing weights, looks like a bruiser…’
‘What’s the day’s special, Delilah?’ asked the woman who was second in the queue. This customer was so tiny, it was hard to imagine that she and Herbert were of the same species. Still, thought Julia, look at dogs. You’ve got your Yorkshire terriers and your Great Danes, haven’t you?
‘Spinach, leek and cheese,’ said Herbert.
‘I’ll take two of those,’ said the chubby chap. ‘Laurel does like spinach. And perhaps a chicken and mushroom just to make sure we don’t starve.’
There was some good-natured bantering, and he left to calls of, ‘Give my regards to Laurel!’
After the tiny woman was served her five pies – she had a brace of big teenage boys to feed, apparently – Julia found herself at the front of the queue. She ordered four pies, and thanked the server. ‘Delilah, is it?’
‘Yes,’ said the woman, surprised. ‘I’m sorry, have we met? You look a bit familiar, but there are so many people in and out, and I’m not good with names.’
‘I live in Berrywick, but I do come in when I’m in Hayfield. My name’s Julia Bird.’
‘Ah, well, pleased to make your acquaintance. Sorry I didn’t know you.’
‘No apology necessary. In fact, I was at a bit of an advantage with the names, because yours came up just yesterday. Nicky Moore mentioned you. She said you were distantly related, and that you owned this wonderful shop.’
‘Oh, yes, Nicky. Second cousins. Or maybe first, once removed? I can never remember the difference. Lovely girl. Haven’t seen her in ages. Things are so busy, what with the pies, and then Herbert entered a competition at the gym which—’
Julia interrupted, realising that the family trait that Delilah and Nicky shared was of the going-down-a-rabbit-hole nature. ‘I was the one who found your ex-husband, Basil Crow, at the meadow. That’s how your name came up.’
Delilah’s sweet face clouded over. She spoke in a wooden tone.
‘Oh, yes. I heard about Basil, of course. A terrible business. I’m sorry for his family.
’ She seemed to remember Julia’s role in the terrible business, because she said, with real kindness, ‘And I’m sorry for you.
It must have been horrible, coming across a dead person. ’
‘It really was,’ Julia said, touched by the woman’s concern. In fact, she was surprised to find herself feeling a bit shaky just talking about it.
‘Gosh, you look pale. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you an apple juice.’
Delilah led Julia to a little table.
‘Thank you,’ Julia said weakly, sitting down.
Delilah went behind the counter, and was back in a moment with the drink. She sat down at the table opposite Julia.
‘Go on, drink up. A bit of sweetness will do you good.’
Julia took a sip. ‘Thank you. I feel better already. I just had a bit of a funny turn.’
‘Can you hold the fort for a bit, please, Herb?’ Delilah called to her husband over her shoulder.
He waved and grinned. ‘Of course, love. Take all the time you need.’
Julia recalled what else Nicky had said of him: ‘…but the kindest man you’ll ever meet…’
‘That’s my husband, Herbert. Second and hopefully last. My soulmate, best friend and my business partner.
We both love baking and we bought this shop together two years ago.
Basil and I had literally nothing in common.
I can’t even remember why I thought it was a good idea to marry him – it certainly wasn’t a good idea. That became apparent rather quickly.’
‘We do make some strange decisions when we’re young. And especially when men are involved.’
‘Well, he was very good-looking and had a powerful presence, a charisma. I was flattered, I suppose. Silly girl.’ Delilah laughed, a quick bark, and then asked quietly, ‘Do you know what happened to him? The papers said he had a blow to the head. I had no feelings for him, after all the years, but I hope he didn’t suffer. ’
‘From what I hear it was a hard blow and he didn’t linger.’
Delilah nodded slowly. ‘It’s strange, I’ve hardly thought of him in years.
The marriage was a disaster.’ She reached for a paper straw and played with it, bending it around her finger in a tense way.
‘He could be charming –at least in the beginning – but he was so controlling about everything – money, who we saw, what I wore. And he had a temper. I was so young and so eager to make things work. I tried, I really tried. Even after he showed his true colours.’
Julia patted her arm. ‘It sounds as if you had a horrible time.’
‘I did, but I made a much better choice the second time round,’ she glanced up at her husband behind the counter, and an affectionate look passed between them.
‘I’m just grateful Basil and I didn’t have children together, and it didn’t last long.
He got one of his girlfriends pregnant, poor thing, and that was that.
I was devastated, but they did me a favour.
I hope he was better to her than he was to me, but I suspect not, because she took the kids and did a runner a few years later.
Somewhere in South America. Argentina, I think it was.
And he married again in short order. That one, number three, was French, if I’m not mistaken.
There seem to be an endless supply of women who are susceptible to that kind of charm.
That marriage didn’t last, either. He was on wife number four when he died. I sometimes see his wife around.’
‘Yes, the papers said he was married to a woman called Mary when he died.’
‘I didn’t keep up with him. I don’t know her well, other than to say hello to in passing. But if he hadn’t changed his ways, I feel sorry for her. For all of them, really.’
Delilah looked so sad that Julia felt bad for unearthing all these painful memories. ‘I’m sorry, I can see this is hard for you to think about.’
‘Oh, it’s so long ago, and I haven’t thought much about it in ages. I’m surprised it still feels sore. Silly really.’
‘It’s not silly.’
‘And I’m sad for those women. I can’t believe they had an easy time. I suppose he might have improved, got help.’ She didn’t sound at all convinced, and neither was Julia.
‘Delilah… when you say he was controlling and angry… I have to ask: was he physical?’
‘I left him before I could find out. I felt that that was where it was going, but I might have been wrong. And I do know that losing me gave him a big shock. Perhaps that was enough to change him.’
On her way back home, Julia ruminated on the life and death of Basil Crow.
It seemed he was not a very nice man – although good-looking and charismatic – and yet he had managed to convince four different women to marry him.
Had his charm and temper got him into other scrapes, perhaps?
With disaffected business associates? With errant family members?
Or in other areas of life? While poor innocent Tabitha was in danger of missing her dear niece’s wedding in Ghana, a host of much better suspects must be lurking all over the place.
She was mulling this over as she drove down the main road, when who should she see walking purposefully down the pavement, pulling a large tartan shopping bag on wheels, but Tabitha herself.
Julia checked that there was no one behind her, slowed to walking pace and rolled down the window to shout, ‘Hello.’
Tabitha jumped and gave a small startled squeak.
Julia pulled the car over to the pavement and stopped. ‘Sorry,’ she said through the window at a more normal volume. ‘I didn’t mean to give you a fright.’
Tabitha bent down to her window. ‘I am just a bit jumpy at the moment. And I was completely in my own head!’
‘Where are you off to?’
‘I’ve taken the afternoon off and I’m heading to the supermarket to continue with my purchases and preparations for the wedding.’
Julia smiled. It was so typical of Tabitha not to give up; to keep moving forward.
‘I’m going the same way. In fact, I need a few things from the supermarket. Can I give you a lift? Keep you company?’
Tabitha hesitated for a minute, and said, ‘Okay.’ She folded up her trolley bag, put it in the back seat, and got in next to Julia.
‘What are you getting this time?’
Tabitha brandished an A4 piece of paper. Before she rejoined the traffic, Julia glanced over to see what looked like a printed-out email.
‘What’s that?’ she asked.
‘A list of special things that my beloved Aunt Jemima wants me to bring.’
Julia had met Aunt Jemima a few times over the decades, on her visits to England. She was a woman of formidable intellect, a big heart and an excellent sense of humour.
‘What are the special things?’ she asked, curious.
‘Twinings tea, and a very detailed and highly specific list of English biscuits and chocolates.’
Tabitha read aloud from her list: ‘Terry’s Chocolate Oranges.
Make sure you get the ORIGINAL – original is written in capital letters, for emphasis – milk chocolate, orange flavour, please, dear…
And then there’s a list of tea flavours she likes, and a tea-related note, with an asterisk.
N.B., no mint! Mint is not tea, Tabitha. ’
Julia laughed. ‘Good for Aunt Jemima. She’s a woman who knows what she wants.’
‘That’s the truth. Anyway, I’ve decided to continue my preparations as if I’m not going to be arrested for the murder of Basil Crow.’
‘What a thing to say. Of course you won’t be arrested!’ said Julia, horrified at the very idea.
‘I know that. I was joking.’
‘It’s really not funny.’
‘Of course it’s not. None of it’s funny, Julia. The poor man’s death, or the fact that I can’t leave town and I might even miss my niece’s wedding.’
‘That can’t happen! We will make sure of it. In fact, I have found out something that might help deflect attention from you. I met an ex-wife of Basil’s this morning, the very first one, in fact. It turns out there are four wives, including your current neighbour.’
‘Mary is her name. Basil’s most recent wife.’ Tabitha turned in her seat and spoke sternly to her friend. ‘Julia, I don’t want you interfering.’
‘Oh, I’m not interfering, I’m, well, I’m just doing a bit of… research. That’s what I’m doing. True, it’s not really my business, but if I can find something useful…’
‘That sounds like interfering.’
‘Maybe, a little. But only because of the wedding, Tabitha. I know that you’ll be allowed to go about your business any day now, but the timing is so tight. What if we go to Hayley, put her onto this ex-wife, Delilah…’
‘There’s no reason to think she had anything to do with it. I’m not going to let you drag some other poor woman into this mess.’
‘She’s not going to be arrested. She’s not even a suspect.
But she knows about all the other ex-wives.
From what I hear, neither she nor any of the others have any great love for Basil.
Any one of them could have a motive. If I can make Hayley see that the wives are much better suspects than you, Hayley will be kept busy interviewing them and you will—’
‘Julia.’ Tabitha spoke softly to her friend. ‘Listen to yourself, Julia. This is madness! I know you are trying to help, but Hayley will not be pleased to hear from you. Let her do her job.’