Chapter 25
‘Isn’t it just the best smell?’ said Jess, holding a large red strawberry under Julia’s hat brim, and then under her own nose.
‘Divine,’ said Julia.
Jess withdrew the berry and popped it into her mouth.
‘Mmm, so good,’ she said, through a mouthful of strawberry.
‘Jess! You know you’re not allowed to eat while you pick,’ said Julia.
Ever since she’d moved to the Cotswolds, Julia had wanted to visit Peachling Farm, a fruit farm half an hour’s drive from Berrywick, that offered a pick your own option in the summer berry season. This year, Julia, Jess and Tabitha had finally made it.
‘Try the blueberries,’ said Tabitha, surreptitiously slipping a berry into Jess’s hand. ‘They are ambrosial.’
‘You two are incorrigible!’ said Julia, her cross tone mingling with the laughter in her voice.
Her daughter and her oldest friend liked to gang up on Julia when they were together, and they were in high spirits, competing to find the largest berries, snacking on the forbidden fruits and generally larking about.
Jess had her phone out and was taking photographs of herself and her companions.
‘Smile!’ she said, and the two older women put on their photo faces.
‘More natural,’ she instructed.
While they rearranged themselves, laughing, she snapped a few more pics of them and then a couple of selfies.
‘Oh, there are some good ones,’ Jess said, showing them the pictures. The three of them looked happy and pretty and fun.
‘That’s a beautiful one of you, Tabitha,’ said Julia. Tabitha was caught mid-laugh, her dear face softly lit, and the sun catching her curls. She looked just exactly her lovely self.
‘I’ll send it to you,’ said Jess. ‘You might want to use it as your profile picture. Oooh, it would be perfect for a profile on one of the dating apps. You look so gorgeous and so friendly, you’d be absolutely swamped with admirers.’
‘Heavens, Jessica. I’m not on any dating app!’ Tabitha said. ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I mean, I have considered it, vaguely…’
This was news to Julia. She knew that Tabitha – after years of happy and determined singleness following her second divorce – was open to another relationship, in theory, but she never seemed to take any action to hurry matters along.
‘You should totally give it a go,’ said Jess encouragingly. ‘What have you got to lose?’
‘Oh, nothing, just my heart, my dignity, my self-esteem, my life savings…’
They all laughed at that.
‘Nah, you just have to be a bit careful, make sure you weed out the scammers. I can help you, if you like. I know how to be smart and safe online. And I can write a killer profile for you. I know all the tricks!’
This was interesting. Did this mean Jess had been on the dating apps herself?
‘And how did you learn those tricks, Jess?’ Julia said, her tone light.
‘There’s nothing wrong with meeting people online,’ said Jess. There was a slight edge to her voice. ‘Everyone my age has done it at one time or another. We can’t all move to the Cotswolds and fall in love with the village doctor like you did, Mum.’
‘Your mother is an example to us all,’ Tabitha said, giving Julia’s arm a pat. ‘Really you are. You and Sean, you are one of the success stories.’
She sounded wistful.
‘You’re right, Jess. It’s an amazing resource,’ Julia said. ‘Tabitha, I think you should give it a go. There must be lots of very nice people around, and any one of them would be very lucky to meet a woman of your calibre.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Tabitha said, in a tone that put an end to the discussion. ‘Now, let’s pick more berries. I need two pounds of them, if I’m going to make jam.’
‘Dylan and I are going to make strawberry ice cream,’ said Jess. ‘We need a kilo of fruit for that.’
‘I just want to eat them with a light sprinkle of sugar and an unseemly large dollop of clotted cream,’ said Julia.
They returned their attention to the plants, plucking the bountiful berries from their stalks until they had enough in their baskets to make all of their strawberry dreams come true.
They waited in a slow-moving queue of strawberry shoppers for the Weigh-and-Pay station.
The till up front emitted regular ting sounds.
A small commotion close by – a child’s chuckle, a squawk – got Julia’s attention.
‘Lord in heaven, Sebastian, put that duck down!’
Julia knew that voice – it was Nicky. And Sebastian was Nicky and Kevin’s dear little boy. She looked over and sure enough, there they were.
‘But I love him. And he’s happy with me,’ said Sebastian. It was true that the duck – a scrappy teenager of a bird, half fluff and half feathers – looked content enough in the boy’s arms.
Tabitha snorted with laughter, drawing Nicky’s attention.
She addressed them with hands on hips and a twinkle in her eye: ‘Tell me, ladies,’ she said. ‘Does this look like a pick-your-own-duck farm to you?’
‘Well, it doesn’t actually say don’t pick up the ducks,’ Julia said, with a wink to Sebastian.
‘You see, Mum?’ said the boy triumphantly.
‘Although, that duck should probably stay here with its mum,’ said Julia. ‘She might be sad without him. And he will be sad without her.’
‘And he has brothers and sisters,’ the boy said, looking down at the bird with tenderness.
‘Shall I help you take it back to its family?’ Jess asked Sebastian.
‘Okay,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Let’s go!’
‘Lord, parenting will be the death of me,’ said Nicky. ‘I mean, who knew there would be ducks?’
‘What a dear little chap he is,’ said Julia. ‘Really, Nicky, you and Kevin are excellent parents. He’s so happy and confident and kind.’
They watched him striding confidently out with Jess at his side and the duck in his arms.
‘He is a dear,’ said Nicky, smiling proudly.
‘How are you? And how is Kevin?’ asked Tabitha.
‘Oh, we’re very well, but it’s peak tourist time, so Kevin is just too busy. The Swan is packed with people. There was a family from Yemen, can you believe? And a group from Thailand. Zimbabwe. And your regular Americans, Japanese, French, what have you…’
Julia feared Nicky might list the entire United Nations – once she got going…
well… she got going. Fortunately, she changed tack.
‘And then there’s the Berrywick Residents’ Association.
Heaven knows why he thought being chairman of that was a good idea, on top of a family and a busy job.
Actually, I’m being unfair. He loves the village and wants to do right by it, good chap that he is.
But if it’s not one thing, it’s another.
The dog issues alone are a full-time job – barking, on lead, off lead, poop bags – not to mention the endless building and planning disputes. ’
They shuffled along a few paces closer to the Weigh-and-Pay counter, where the till rang merrily.
‘I heard something about the Residents’ Association recently – now, what was it? Oh yes. It was to do with investing the money they’d raised for some project or other.’ It came back to Julia in a flash. Hayley had mentioned that Greg had been meeting with Kevin to advise them.
‘Pppfff. I’d be surprised. Between you and me, Julia’ – Nicky made no attempt to lower her voice before imparting whatever confidential new information was coming – ‘people here in the village are right stingy. Kevin says it’s a job in itself just getting a few quid out of them every year for membership fees, let alone money for investing or for projects! ’
‘Oh, I must have got the wrong end of the stick. I thought I heard that Greg Loxton met them at the Swan about it the other week, the day the colonel was killed, but perhaps not.’
‘Well, if it was that day you were thinking of, you definitely got the wrong end of the stick. Even if there was money to invest for the Residents’ Association, Kevin wouldn’t have been taking meetings that week.
It was the busiest week in the Swan’s history.
It was at full capacity, everyone working double shifts, and Kevin’s assistant manager went down with a summer flu.
Kevin was working like a madman, leaving the house before dawn and getting home at ten at night.
We hardly saw the poor man; he had no time for village business. ’
This was interesting, Julia thought. If Greg hadn’t been at the Swan as he’d claimed, where had he been? Could he have been at the manor the whole time? Could he have killed his father?
‘Hello.’ The cheerful pink-cheeked woman at the till spoke a little loudly, which suggested she’d already said it once.
‘Hello, sorry! Daydreaming…’ said Julia.
‘No worries. You chose a lovely day for the farm,’ the woman continued chattily, as if they were the first customers of the day. She placed the baskets on the scale. ‘Not too hot. And it’s peak strawberry season.’
‘We had a super time, and the strawberries… Amazing,’ said Tabitha. ‘It’s a lovely place you have here.’
‘Isn’t it just? Been in my family for four generations. That’ll be ten pounds.’
Ting went the till.
‘Thank you,’ said Julia, handing over the money.
Jess and Sebastian arrived back from their mercy mission, having reunited the teenage duck with its family. Sebastian didn’t seem bereft.
The cheerful lady rang up Tabitha’s strawberries and then reached down and grasped two large tomatoes, which she handed over with an air of munificence: ‘Oh, and we’ve got a little gift for our customers.’ She handed another couple to Julia, saying, ‘Enjoy them, on us!’
There was nothing for it. Julia took the tomatoes, and smiled weakly. ‘Thank you, how kind.’
She heard a cackle from Jess.
‘Last thing I need. I could have given her a basket of tomatoes,’ Julia said to the others, when they were out of earshot of the friendly tomato donor. Jess and Tabitha laughed.
‘What’s funny?’ Sebastian asked Jess.
‘Ducks are funny,’ she said, grinning at her mum.
‘They are!’ he said, joining in the laughter.
Julia felt ashamed of herself for being ungrateful, and amended her position: ‘Ah well, it’s a nice gesture, of course. The tomatoes. And I’m sure I can make room for another pint of tomato soup in the freezer.’