Chapter 29
The following morning was a busy one. The largest flower order of the week had to be unpacked, plus the plant order needed to be brought in.
As it turned December during the week, festive orders were starting to come in and even more stock was required.
This meant a mountain of work and as there was no sign of Becky, Lara had to work twice as hard.
As if to give Lara moral support, Abby appeared early in the morning, once again wearing a shop apron.
Lara just wished that Abby’s support did not consist of issuing a series of imperious commands from her perch by the workbench.
Lara was at the back of the shop when Becky finally arrived.
Abby called to her, ‘Oh, I think you need to see this, Lara.’
Becky was standing, hesitating in the doorway.
‘I wondered if this would do for when you want us to look a bit more special and Christmassy?’ Becky was dressed in black riding boots, black tights, a short black skirt and a black jumper.
Her dark hair had been recently cut into a shorter, sharper version of her normal style and she was wearing the most glorious shade of scarlet lipstick that Lara had ever seen. She looked stunning.
Lara found she wanted to cry. All she could say was, ‘You look perfect, Becky.’
Becky touched her hair nervously. ‘Kate suggested I go for a more sophisticated cut. It took longer than we thought. Sorry I’m late.’
Lara just reiterated, ‘You look fantastic, Becky.’ And the two women grinned at each other.
Abby let out a little contented sigh and reached for her linen and lace handkerchief.
After this, Monday and Tuesday flew by and Abby and Lara hardly had a moment to themselves. Lara had an inkling that since her ‘fall’ at the theatre, Abby was sticking particularly close to her and she was secretly glad of it.
Becky and Lara had a happy time hanging garlands around the shop and carried in a small Christmas tree for the window.
Abby’s assistance was, as usual, more verbal than physical, but she liked to think she had played a significant part in the proceedings.
When the last pinecone was in place, Lara looked happily around her.
There was a table full of Amaryllis the colour of red velvet, there were large china bowls of snowy orchids and on the shelves stood baskets filled with roses, lilies, holly, ivy and tulips.
The scent of oranges, cloves and cinnamon from arrangements and wreaths filled the air.
Becky had dressed the Christmas tree as she had suggested and now suspended from the branches were a multitude of different flowers.
Outside the shop, pine wreaths were hung ready for customers’ doors.
Some were decorated with traditional tartan bows, some with candy canes and Christmas stars, and others with navy ribbons and dried orange slices.
Abby’s favourite was one that was made entirely from smoky-grey eucalyptus.
It had two silver bells at the top and an enormous bow at the bottom made of cerise, shot silk.
The only customer of note during this time was Dr Patil, who came in to enquire after Lara’s arm.
She conducted this conversation in an undertone as she had not told Becky about her ‘accident’.
When he left, Lara stood out in the square giving Abby the chance to follow the doctor to the churchyard, where he stood for some moments in silence beside Lady Porter’s grave.
He did not leave any flowers or any messages.
On Tuesday afternoon Pinky Porter walked past the shop.
Lara got the impression that Pinky wanted to get by as quickly as possible without looking in their direction.
And she might have done so if it hadn’t been for Monty who dragged her to the window, where he stood barking happily at Abby, his tail thumping the buckets of flowers.
Abby was delighted to see her old friend and stood by the window calling endearments to him.
Pinky meanwhile found herself staring directly at Lara through the glass.
She looked away quickly but not before Lara had seen the expression on her face.
It was one of embarrassment certainly, but Lara also thought she saw fear in her eyes.
What with the shop work and Lara insisting on some time alone to clean up for her mother’s visit, it was not until Abby and Lara were on the 8.
15am train to London on Wednesday morning that they had the opportunity for a proper conversation.
Lara chose a block of two seats and she took the outside one.
She put one of her earphones in and hoped that if people saw her talking they would assume she was on a call.
Abby had dressed for the occasion in a duck-egg blue silk redingote with long sleeves and decorated with hussar trimmings.
The bodice was fastened with a broad belt and pearl buckle and as she walked there were glimpses of her cream silk gown underneath.
She wore a -duck-egg blue hat with extravagant cream ostrich feathers and, to complete the outfit, Abby had added cream gloves, cream half boots and a minuscule gold reticule.
Lara had made an effort too. She was wearing slim-fitting Black-Watch tartan trousers, black suede ankle boots, a pale tangerine shirt and black leather jacket.
It was the first time in months she hadn’t worn jeans.
‘No apron today then?’ Lara asked Abby.
‘It is in my reticule,’ Abby lied.
Abby had not been on a train for many years and she was thoroughly enjoying herself.
For the first fifteen minutes of the journey Lara could get no sense out of her whatsoever, as she had her nose pressed almost to the window.
The last time Abby had travelled by train things had been quite different.
There had been closed-in carriages and a restaurant car with full silver service.
This brought the notorious Major Norton to Abby’s mind, which in turn brought her back to the task in hand.
‘I think we need to consider each of our suspects and discuss motive and opportunity, and also what we have learnt about them so far,’ Abby suggested in a tone that brooked no argument. ‘Shall we start with Mr Jason Honeybourne, as I always like to get the worst over with first?’
Lara nodded and thought about the antique dealer for a while, then keeping her voice low and her head down she started, ‘Well, we know he has an interest in Lady Porter’s china and he may have been sniffing about for other things.
He has part of the tea service, but we don’t know how he got hold of this.
He has bought and sold pieces for Lady Porter in the past, Mrs M certainly doesn’t trust him, and nor do I,’ Lara concluded.
Abby smiled at Lara encouragingly, so Lara continued, ‘I’m not sure any of this is motive for murder though and he would have had less opportunity than, say, the family.
Although we think he still has a key to the house and Thomas has seen him sneaking around.
And Richard thinks he may have been getting money out of his mother.
Maybe he was blackmailing Lady Porter, and like Dr Patil said, she wouldn’t put up with that for long.
You also said he was faking some of his antiques to make them look older. So maybe she found out about that too.’
‘There is without doubt something very unsavoury about Mr Honeybourne. But I believe we will have a better understanding of motive once we know the likely worth of the tea service,’ Abby suggested. ‘Now, let’s turn our attention to Dr Patil.’
Lara accepted that her role was to be Watson to Abby’s Holmes, and took up the thread. ‘I think he did love Lady Porter and that this may have gone on for years, even back in Nottingham,’ Lara said.
‘I believe he did. And I found what he said about that time very revealing,’ Abby replied.
‘You think it has something to do with the past, don’t you?’ Lara stated.
Abby did not answer but motioned for ‘Watson’ to continue.
‘We know that Dr Patil is asking for forgiveness for something and then after that it just seems like a whole load of contradictions.’
Abby nodded. ‘Yes, he is a gentle man who also has a temper; he doesn’t think that Lady Porter drank, but neither does he think she was ill, even though he first mentioned this possibility.’
‘At least we know it wasn’t anything to do with an inheritance,’ Lara suggested.
Again, Abby nodded.
‘When it comes to the actual inheritance we have…’ Lara started to count off on her fingers, ‘…Mrs M, the vicar who didn’t get anything, Joe, who also didn’t get anything—’
Abby interrupted, ‘But who thought he was going to?’
Lara frowned at her. ‘I think it’s the family who are the most interesting,’ she insisted.
‘Oh, indeed they always are,’ Abby agreed, smoothing a wrinkle out in her glove.
Lara continued with more enthusiasm, ‘We have greedy Richard, who has also committed fraud. And Pinky who might well have fancied ￡30,000 and if she really thinks she and Julian have a chance, she would have wanted Richard to have his inheritance before she divorced him.’ Lara tried to keep her voice level, as if the next thing she said was considered and unemotional, ‘And on that basis, I think we have to include Julian in the list of suspects.’
‘Oh goody!’ the ghost declared gleefully.
Lara looked away, but she was grinning.
‘Now,’ Abby continued more seriously, ‘we need to consider opportunity.’
‘Well,’ Lara said doubtfully, ‘we know that Pinky had means and opportunity – which I guess implies Richard and Julian did too as they could have got hold of her pills. Obviously, Dr Patil could get his hands on drugs and was a frequent visitor. Jason Honeybourne may have been able to smuggle drugs into the house, but I don’t know how he could have got her to take the overdose at a particular time.
’ Lara sounded disappointed. ‘But then that goes for Joe,’ she said, sounding more hopeful.
She really didn’t want Joe to be the murderer.
No more did she want it to be Mrs M or the vicar, but for thoroughness she thought she should include them.
‘Mrs M could easily have done it, especially as we know Lady Porter took sleeping pills in the past…’
Abby took over, ‘And the vicar may be an insomniac for all we know, but it does not seem like he was a frequent visitor. Plus, as you mentioned, is it really likely that he would kill her for the church roof?’ She looked thoughtful.
‘I hardly see Mrs M as an avaricious person. Quite frankly, she could have taken anything she fancied over the past few months, but I do not believe she is responsible for the gaps in the artwork. And we know she was responsible for ensuring that Dr Patil gained his inheritance.’
‘Yes, it’s Richard and Jason who’re the greedy ones.’ Lara was quite sure of that.
They were silent for some time.
‘I keep thinking of that secret room,’ Lara mused.
‘You noticed it too then?’ Abby asked, looking searchingly at Lara.
‘It was so evocative of India, and when I was in Dr Patil’s house he had similar lanterns to Lady Porter’s. But when I mentioned the room to him he looked blank…’ Lara started to sound less sure of herself.
‘That wasn’t quite what I had in mind,’ Abby said softly.
‘Have I forgotten anything?’ Lara asked.
‘There is only the small matter of who assisted you over the balcony in the theatre.’ Abby sounded cross and Lara was rather touched.
‘Well,’ Lara suggested, ‘as far as I can see, it could have been any one of our suspects.’ She sat up straighter, ‘Oh, hang on, apart from Joe or Mrs M, as they weren’t there.’ She sounded pleased. Surely the person who pushed her was their murderer – so that ruled them out.
‘I did see the vicar circulating with the mayor,’ Abby suggested, suppressing a smile.
‘He barely comes up to my shoulder,’ Lara declared, picturing the vicar, who was a tiny wisp of a man, ‘I can’t see him shoving me over the balcony.’
Abby kept quiet, thinking of the figure she had seen following Lara home the night of her accident.
She had not been able to catch up with them so couldn’t be quite sure who it was, but it was a tall man, she was certain of that.
Mr Honeybourne and Dr Patil were both tall men. As was Julian Armstrong.
They drew into a country station and Abby became preoccupied watching passengers disembark as Lara busied herself on her phone.
It was the sixth time since she had got on the train that Lara had checked it.
Abby caught her looking at it and Lara explained, ‘I just want to know Mum got there safely and that she and Becky are okay.’
‘Becky is a competent florist who knows exactly what she is doing. She has the help of your mother whom she holds in high regard. Your mother was a nurse in one of the biggest and busiest hospitals in the country. I believe she can manage to sweep the floor, cut some flowers and deliver a few bouquets,’ Abby declared roundly.
Lara put her phone on silent and decided she would check it when Abby wasn’t looking. It was only when Abby started speaking again that it occurred to her; how did Abby know her mum had worked in one of the biggest hospitals in the country?
Before she could find out, Abby asked out of nowhere, ‘Have you ever been on a submarine?’
The question chased everything else from Lara’s mind. ‘Please don’t tell me you solved a murder five hundred metres under the Atlantic Ocean?’ Lara pleaded.
‘Now you are being facetious,’ Abby said in the manner of her governess, Miss Ampleforth.
‘Although that would be extraordinarily interesting,’ she added, dropping some of her old governess’s mannerisms. ‘No, the reason I ask is that I was once instructed on the fascinating subject of sonar by the Right Honourable The Earl Jellicoe, who was Admiral of the Fleet, and it strikes me that what he told me may be relevant in our current predicament.’
‘No…’ Lara said slowly, ‘you’ve completely lost me.’
‘It relates to the use of sonar alongside depth charges,’ Abby continued, oblivious to Lara muttering, ‘Oh boy, here we go.’
Changing tack completely, Abby asked Lara, ‘Do you think our suspects might be among those attending the Estate Ball?’
Lara gave up trying to follow her, so just said simply, ‘Very likely.’
‘Excellent,’ Abby beamed at Lara. ‘We are going to take some soundings on the night and then you are going to launch some depth charges and retreat while I gauge the reaction.’ Abby was watching Lara. ‘Now am I making sense?’
‘Yes, I think I’m getting there,’ Lara said, her brow clearing. ‘You want me to drop the odd explosive comment and then retreat so you can see what happens?’
Abby bowed her head.