Chapter 11
Julia would have given a great deal to be able to stay home with Jake and Chaplin, have two boiled eggs and toast soldiers for supper, and watch Midsomer Murders in her slippers.
But instead, she was being gently ushered into Berrywick library, Sean’s hand warm on her back, for the monthly book club meeting.
Julia had to go, because she had invited Laine, Sean’s son Jono’s girlfriend, to come to the book club.
Laine had mentioned that she was keen to read more books; Tabitha was eager to bolster book club numbers and get some more ‘young blood’.
It was potentially a win-win. If Laine liked it and decided to come regularly, she would bring the average age down a click.
As it was, Dylan was the only book club member born this century.
Not only had Julia come reluctantly, she’d come with a packet of biscuits from the store cupboard, which is to say, a packet of biscuits bought from the supermarket.
Book club eats were, by unspoken agreement, home-made.
They were not elaborate – everyone understood, implicitly, that it was not in anyone’s interests for book club catering to be overly onerous or competitive – but the treats were always home-made, not bought.
‘I had planned to make something, but the day went unexpectedly mad,’ Julia said, opening the packet and laying the chocolate digestives out on a plate. ‘I’m sorry it’s not something more delicious.’
‘Ah, we all have those days, dear. No need to worry,’ said Pippa, who had brought her trademark carrot cake, which was widely regarded as the best in Berrywick. She sometimes made carrot muffins instead, which were easier to eat, but since the poisoning incident, she’d rather gone off muffins.
‘I love chocolate biscuits,’ said Tabitha, loyally. ‘I was thinking just yesterday that I hadn’t had a chocolate biscuit in ages.’
Julia introduced Laine. Unsurprisingly, given the realities of village life, there followed a brief excavation of her family connections.
‘I think my sister was at school with your second cousin,’ said Pippa.
As it turned out, almost all of the book club members knew at least one of Laine’s parents, or the house they lived in, or had seen Laine herself walking their tame goat around the place.
‘That goat. So cool,’ said Dylan, with his usual economy of words, nodding in approval.
‘Let’s get started, shall we?’ said Tabitha, on the dot of 5.30 p.m.
As the members took their places on the chairs and sofa, the library tabby cat came slinking in.
Rather awkwardly, the cat’s name was Tabitha, too.
Although she was already a fixture in the library when Tabitha was appointed librarian, it was decided that the human Tabitha would have use of the name.
Tabitha the cat went by the name ‘Too’. Because she was Tabitha, too.
As the cat didn’t respond to any name – only to the rattle of the cat biscuit tin, and occasionally, if she felt like it, to pspspsps – it didn’t seem to matter too much.
She stalked around the room eyeing potential laps and cushions, and then jumped up and inserted her silky body between Sean and Julia on the sofa.
They both reached instinctively to stroke her, their hands touching as they traced the smooth stripes.
They caught each other’s eyes and smiled.
In addition to winning the cat’s affection, Julia also won a small tussle for the hot bestseller, a racy biographical novel about a woman who rode a horse the length of North America in the 1800s, dressed as a man.
When they broke for tea, Julia was pleased she’d come, instead of giving in to her slippers-and-TV fantasy.
A lively book discussion always left her feeling good, and the chocolate biscuits were being enthusiastically hoovered up, in spite of their humble provenance.
And then there was the exchange of news-slash-gossip over tea.
Tabitha reported that Too had fallen in love with a ginger tomcat who sometimes visited the library. ‘At least, I think it’s love,’ said Tabitha. ‘She stares at him like she wants to eat him.’
Julia laughed. ‘That sounds like love, indeed.’
‘I have some news. I drove past the meadow on my way over, and one of those big diggers was there,’ said Pippa. ‘It looks like they’re getting ready to dig. I wonder what that means in terms of the investigation…’
They looked hopefully at Julia, who was known to occasionally have an inside track on police-related matters, and who had, after all, found the body that had resulted in the closure of the site in the first place. Julia shrugged.
‘Well, I suppose the police must think the forensic team have got what they can, and they have released the scene.’
‘They have,’ said Laine, to Julia’s surprise. ‘My mum works for a property developer, and she mentioned yesterday that her boss is upset because the work is going ahead.’
‘But why would her boss be upset about that?’
Laine shrugged. ‘Competitors or something,’ she said, with the disinterest only a child can show to her mother’s work life.
‘Mum just said the lady was in a mood because of it. She inherited the business a year ago and from what Mum says, she’s always in a mood about something.
Mum says she’s under a lot of stress, so she understands the moods. ’
‘So they’re definitely getting on with building the shopping centre?’ asked Julia, not allowing herself to be distracted by this rather interesting side story.
‘I think so.’
‘A lot of people won’t be pleased,’ said Diane. She bit into her chocolate biscuit.
‘I’m one of them,’ said Pippa. ‘It was such a pretty meadow and a good-sized open space for dogs to run. I often took the guide dog puppies there for exercise and socialisation.’
‘And the flowers,’ said Dylan. ‘It’s an area of natural biodiversity.’ Everyone looked at him. He was a man of relatively few words, and to date, few of them had been about flowers.
‘That’s true,’ said Julia. She had, after all, been digging them up when she found Basil Crow’s body.
‘I don’t know why we need more shops,’ said Diane. ‘Everything is about money, I suppose. No one cares about nature, or the dogs. Everyone in this business wants to make a buck.’ She suddenly looked awkward and said to Laine, ‘No offence to your mum.’
‘None taken. She’s not actually involved in development, and certainly not in digging up the field. She’s an accountant. She’s got her own business, and that bad-tempered woman is just one of her clients.’
They sipped their tea. Tabitha was very quiet. Julia sidled up to her at the tea table when she went for a refill. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked quietly. Tabitha’s predicament was not public, and she wanted to keep it that way.
‘Sort of. I’m worried about the trip. And the airfare,’ she said, uncharacteristically glum. ‘I phoned the travel agent, and she said I won’t get a refund if I am not able to go to Ghana.’
Diane, standing behind, overheard. ‘Why wouldn’t you be able to go to Ghana?’ she said, astonished.
‘What? Why ever not?’ asked Pippa, picking up on their conversation. ‘You’ve been planning this trip for months. It’s your sister’s daughter’s wedding, isn’t it…?’
‘Oh, I hope I will go. There are some complications,’ said Tabitha. ‘It’s to do with Basil Crow, my neighbour, the man who died. The police want me to stay and help with investigations. I’m sure it will all be sorted out.’
‘That’s absurd!’ said Pippa.
‘It’s all a misunderstanding, and some new big brass who doesn’t know Berrywick or Tabitha is putting on the pressure,’ said Julia. She took her friend’s hand. ‘Tabitha, I really believe that this will get sorted out in time and you will go to Ghana.’
She hadn’t mentioned the frying pan, but she presumed that if forensics turned up blood, that would put an end to Tabitha’s problems. Not even the most stubborn, suspicious superintendent would imagine that Tabitha had attacked her neighbour with his ex-wife’s frying pan.
‘I hope you’re right, Julia. Because if I don’t, not only do I miss the wedding, but I lose all the money. And it’s a lot of money.’
The whole group was listening now, and they clustered around looking concerned.
Diane, who only very occasionally exhibited the clichéd fiery characteristics attributed to the red-headed, was more than concerned.
She was flushed with outrage. ‘It’s absolutely absurd to think that Tabitha has anything to do with this!
’ she said. ‘It’s police overreach, is what it is.
We should have a demonstration, or a march or something. Defend your rights.’
‘No, no,’ said Tabitha hurriedly. ‘Thank you, but it’s probably best to just let things take their course.’
‘My sister-in-law is involved in insurance, and specifically travel insurance. There might be some kind of ombudsman or review panel you could go to. I’ll ask her for advice, if you like,’ said Pippa.
Tabitha smiled at Pippa for this more reasonable offer. ‘That’s very kind, I’d appreciate that.’
‘Well, I know someone at the travel agency. I could speak to her and see if there’s anything…’ said Diane.
‘Thank you… You’re all very kind.’
‘We’ve got your back!’ said Pippa.
‘And if you change your mind about the demonstration…’ said Diane, who seemed rather keen on the idea.
Sean added, ‘You know that if there’s anything we can do to help, Julia and I would be more than eager.’
‘It’s true,’ said Julia. ‘Anything at all.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate all the offers. I’ll let you know if I need any help.’
Book club always packed up promptly and quickly.
At 7.30 p.m., they got up from their chairs.
Pippa and Dylan washed up the plates and cups in the little kitchen.
The others moved the chairs and table back into position and packed up the remains of the tea (there were no chocolate biscuits left, Julia was happy to see).
By 7.35 p.m., Julia and Sean were in Sean’s car, and by 7.
45 p.m., they had pulled up outside Julia’s house.
They had sat in tired and companionable near silence for the interim minutes.
‘Thanks for the lift, Sean. I hope you don’t mind if I don’t ask you in. It’s been a very long day, and I’m going to get into bed with a book.’ She held up the tote containing the three books she’d taken from the library.
‘Of course not,’ said Sean, turning to look deeply into her eyes. ‘Although being in bed with you and a book does sound rather tempting.’
Julia felt a warm flush of desire. Experiencing the full blaze of those piercing blue eyes turned on her always had that effect on her. ‘It sounds good to me, too, but…’
‘There’s no need to explain!’ said Sean, ‘You have every right to a quiet, early night. We will make another arrangement. Soon.’
‘Thank you, Sean, for being so understanding, and so kind.’
‘But speaking of arrangements, and being together. There is something I wanted to say, and something I want to give you…’
His joking manner had disappeared. He cleared his throat. His hand reached into his trouser pocket. It was an awkward movement, given that he was sitting in the driver’s seat.
Julia’s heart made some flipping, lurching movement which seemed to represent fear and excitement, and lord knows what else.
They’d never discussed the odd moment in the pub.
She’d not known quite how to bring it up, although she knew they should discuss it.
Well, now was the time. He was going to propose, and offer her a ring, and they would have to have that conversation, and after that, who knew where the relationship would be?
He leaned to one side, digging his fingers into the pocket.
Her phone rang.
She grabbed it, grateful for the distraction. Hayley Gibson’s name flashed up on the screen.
‘Hayley, what’s up?’ she said. ‘Have you got results? Is it blood?’
Gory as it was, it would be good for Tabitha if it was blood. There was a pause. Julia felt sure that Hayley was about to confirm that the forensic tests showed human blood and that Tabitha would be able to go to Ghana. She held her breath.
‘Well-cooked tomato,’ said Hayley. ‘It looks as if Jacqueline was making spaghetti sauce.’
Julia’s heart sank. She couldn’t tell if Hayley was amused or annoyed.
‘Oh, okay,’ said Julia. ‘I’m sorry. I thought, well… you know, the spouse is always the first person you look at… or the ex… And the frying pan… And the timing… It seemed such a coincidence.’
She looked at Sean. He was no longer fiddling in his pocket. His hands were empty.
‘It was just that. A coincidence,’ said Hayley.
Julia felt the hot flush of humiliation. ‘I wasted your time, Hayley. I’m sorry.’
‘Not at all. You did the right thing,’ said Hayley. ‘But it does mean we’re no closer to finding Basil Crow’s killer. I’m starting to think we’re on the wrong track entirely.’