Chapter 12
Julia surveyed the rows of tubs on the kitchen counter. Three tubs of pasta sauce and three tubs of tomato soup, all labelled and ready for the freezer. Her heart swelled with pride, like a big, red beefsteak tomato ripening in the midsummer sun.
She had been putting off dealing with the tomato glut that was increasing daily on the vines in her garden. And then, when she’d gone outside to take Jake for his afternoon walk yesterday, she had almost tripped over a large brown paper bag full of tomatoes placed on the front doorstep.
‘Aaargh, not more tomatoes!’ she’d wailed, looking up and down the lane, hoping to see who had put them there.
Of course, there was no one in sight. She suspected Hester, but it could have been any one of her neighbours.
There was nothing for it but to accept the gift, and finally get down to tomato processing.
She had picked her own ripe tomatoes – keeping a few to give to Sean – and some fresh oregano and basil, and spent the evening slicing and dicing and frying and simmering and seasoning and pureeing.
And now here they were, the fruits of her labour, cool and ready to freeze for future use.
A feeling of satisfaction and contentment came over her. Thank goodness, she had finally got on top of the tomatoes. She’d have a breather for a couple of weeks before the next lot were ripe. What she’d do with those, she didn’t know. But that was a challenge for another day.
Half an hour later, having stashed the tubs in the freezer, fed the animals and said a guilty goodbye to the doleful Jake, she was on her way to work at Second Chances.
It felt like many weeks since she and Wilma and Diane had been together at the charity shop, but in fact it was only two. So much had happened in the interim.
Julia had been at the manor last Wednesday.
Wilma had been in France with her new beau, Douglas.
It had been Wilma and Douglas’s first holiday together, and Julia was dying to know how it had gone.
Wilma and Diane, as it turned out, were just as eager to hear Julia’s news.
They were both there, waiting expectantly, when Julia walked in.
‘The kettle’s on!’ Diane said, by way of greeting. Her big blue eyes were wide with anticipation.
‘Now, tell us everything that happened at the manor!’ instructed Wilma, who always made it her business to get the inside story on the local gossip. She must have noticed that it came out briskly, even callously, because she added ‘Poor you,’ as an afterthought. ‘How are you, Julia?’
‘It was a bit of a shock, of course, but I’m all right,’ said Julia. She put her handbag away in the back room, where Diane clattered about making the tea.
The three women settled down with their cuppas, and Julia regaled them with the story of what she’d seen.
She didn’t add her own thoughts, observations and questions, or the conversations she’d had with Hayley, or the broken toe detail, which by some miracle hadn’t made its way into the news reports.
And she certainly didn’t let on about her plan to dig further at the tennis club later on.
The women were sharp, though.
‘I reckon it’s the butler that did it,’ said Diane, with great certainty.
‘In the movies it’s always the butler. Plus, he knew the colonel well, and for years, so lots of time for resentment to build up, if the colonel wasn’t a good employer.
You know how these ex-military types can be.
Very bossy. They get used to ordering people about. ’
‘That they can,’ said Wilma, holding out her mug for a top-up from Diane. ‘And the butler knew the house, and he would know everyone’s plans and timing. Although, I have to say, I’m not convinced it was him. I’d put my money on the son. Perhaps he wanted to hasten his inheritance.’
Julia had not shared the details that she knew about the will – that the colonel’s estate was split evenly between the children.
‘It’s like a game of Cluedo, isn’t it?’ said Diane. ‘The colonel, murdered in the study with the candlestick.’
‘It would be Professor Plum that did it,’ said Wilma, picking up the reference.
‘Or the Reverend Green,’ Diane said, offering the pot of tea. ‘Wasn’t that one of the characters?’
‘Thank you,’ said Julia, holding out her mug. ‘I’ve no doubt DI Hayley Gibson and her team will solve this one very promptly.’ She was eager to move off the subject of Colonel Loxton’s death, and on to cheerier topics. ‘Now, Wilma. Tell us about your holiday. How was France?’
Fortunately, Diane was easily distracted. She whipped around to address Wilma, and once again Julia admired the fiery silken swoosh of her hair. ‘Oooh, yes! How was it? How did you and Douglas get on?’
Wilma blushed. ‘Like a dream,’ she said, ‘He couldn’t have been nicer or kinder or more fun. Treated me like a princess. I hardly lifted a finger; he arranged everything.’
‘You certainly look well and relaxed. And you got a bit of sun,’ said Diane. It was true. There was colour in Wilma’s cheeks, and in fact, her face looked softer, as if she’d picked up a little weight. It suited her.
‘The weather was perfect. Not too hot for exploring or taking a walk, but warm enough for reading on a sunlounger by the pool.’
Julia approved of these activities for her friend.
Wilma was quite tightly wound as a rule, and she didn’t relax easily.
When she did take time for herself, it was usually spent running around the roads of the Cotswolds, under the stern eye of the chunky sportswatch that was permanently affixed to her wrist.
The jingle of the doorbell interrupted the holiday report and signalled the start of a busy day at Second Chances.
The hot weather had brought out tourists and locals alike, the former browsing idly for souvenirs and bargains, the latter picking up essential summer items – hats and sunglasses, water jugs, outdoor toys.
The till chimed merrily, and spirits were good, so much so that the day passed quickly, and Julia was soon on her way to the Hayfield Tennis Club.
Sean was lowering himself into a chair when Julia arrived on the terrace. They smiled in recognition of their mutual punctuality.
‘Well, this was a nice surprise invitation. And it’s rather a good spot, isn’t it?’ said Sean. ‘How are you doing? Solved the murder yet?’
‘Not quite yet,’ smiled Julia. ‘But I’m working on it.’
Sean gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes. ‘Just be careful out there, Detective Bird. I don’t want you to put yourself in danger.’
The terrace looked out over a lawn, with the tennis courts beyond. From there, filtered the pleasant sound of the thwack of balls, and the occasional calls of players.
‘Out.’
‘Your service.’
The sky was clear, and the sun was low and mild. Although G he’s in a good relationship, doing well. It’s wonderful to see. And it’s at least partially thanks to you. You’ve been a good, supportive dad, Sean.’
‘Well, if we’re lucky, we get the chance to do things better.’
‘We do,’ said Julia, not sure if he was referring to himself or to Jono or to both of them.
Their drinks arrived as a group of tennis players came off the courts to claim a table on the terrace. They were in good spirits, bantering about the game.
‘Well played,’ said a man’s voice. ‘You were a demon on that court!’
‘Ah, well, you were pretty quick off the mark today too,’ came the reply. ‘And your knee seemed to hold up well.’
‘Hardly troubled me at all. Good as new.’
‘Unfair advantage, having the Bionic Man on the court.’
Julia recognised Bron’s voice. She looked up and caught the woman’s eye.
‘Julia, isn’t it?’ Bron said. ‘We met at the memorial.’
‘Oh, of course, yes!’ said Julia. ‘Good to see you, Bron. And there’s Mavis, I see!’
Mavis came over with Bron’s husband, Dick.
‘Well, isn’t this a coincidence?’ she said with a smile. ‘Fancy meeting each other twice in a week.’
‘Well, you did recommend it for a drink on the terrace, and we liked the sound of it, so here we are – we meet under much happier circumstances this time, thankfully.’
The tennis players claimed the table a few away from theirs and Julia introduced them to Sean. He gave her a wry, knowing look when he discovered their recent connection.
‘Which reminds me, we should really go round to the house and pay our respects to Greg and Clara,’ said Mavis.
‘And to Garforth, too, I suppose,’ said Dick. ‘He was very devoted to his employer.’
‘Well, Colonel Loxton did save his life,’ said Julia. ‘I don’t suppose that’s something you ever forget.’
‘You mean the other way round,’ said Dick.
‘What do you mean?’ Mavis asked.
‘I mean that Garforth saved Loxton’s life.’
‘Oh! I could have sworn I was told the reverse,’ said Julia.
‘No, I was there. Garforth was as green as they come, but he went in under fire and pulled Loxton out of a burning vehicle. The vehicle exploded in a ball of flames not even a minute later. The force of it blew them off their feet, but they walked away with nothing but a few grazes. If Garforth had hesitated, they would both have been killed.’
‘Oh, I see. I must have misheard, or misunderstood. I could have sworn it was the colonel who…’
‘Definitely not. Garforth got a medal for his bravery.’
‘Well, that’s remarkable. And then all those years working for him. What they went through together must have given them a special bond.’
The tennis foursome said their goodbyes, and settled at their own table. Their voices drifted over as they ordered drinks and sandwiches, chatting and laughing in the comfortable manner of old friends.
Much as she remembered being told differently, the scenario where Garforth saved the colonel made a certain amount of sense, Julia thought. It would explain why Garforth was in such a trusted position, and it would explain the generous provision for him in the colonel’s will.
Still, she could have sworn that she had been told that Colonel Loxton was the hero of the story.
As soon as the sun dipped towards the horizon, the air chilled suddenly. Julia shivered in her light summer cardigan.
‘Would you like my jacket?’ Sean asked. ‘Or perhaps we should move inside?’
‘I think I should go home,’ said Julia. ‘I’ve left Jake alone all day. Sorry it was a short one. But let’s get together on Friday. Come to me. I’ll see if Tabitha can join us.’
‘Sounds good,’ said Sean, getting up. ‘Thanks for the outing and the drink.’
‘My pleasure.’
Sean stopped suddenly as they reached their cars. ‘Oh, I almost forgot. I’ve got a little something special for you,’ he said with a proud smile.
‘Really?’ Julia did love a little surprise.
He opened the car and reached in. When he emerged, he was holding a large brown paper bag.
‘My own home-grown tomatoes!’ he beamed, depositing them into her reluctant arms.