by Sherri Bryan
On the arrival of the paramedics, everyone but the immediate family had moved into the living room.
“I should go,” said Charlotte. “I never intended to stay in the first place.” She jerked her head to Nathan to indicate that she wanted to speak to him alone.
They stood in the doorway, their backs to the room. “Why didn’t you call and tell me that you’d be interviewing her here?” whispered Charlotte. “Can you imagine how embarrassed I was when I walked in and saw you?”
“Well, if I’d thought for one minute that you were going to come strolling in halfway through my interrogation, with a cherry pie under your arm, maybe I would have called,” grinned Nathan. “Truth is, I intended to interview her at the station, but she wasn’t feeling too good. The way things have turned out, though, it’s probably better that her family is around her.”
“Well, at least you’ve got your murderer. Thank goodness,” said Charlotte. “All we need to do now is find whoever it was who attacked me, Ryan and Pip, and we can all sleep easy in our beds.”
“You mean all I have to do is find them, don’t you?” reminded Nathan.
“Er, excuse me.” One of the paramedics came out of the kitchen.
“Is she going to be okay? Do you know what’s wrong with her?” asked Greg.
“Yes, and yes,” said the paramedic. “We caught it in time, so we’re treating it with a strong dose of antibiotics. She’s already showing signs of improvement. The symptoms she was exhibiting are because she has sepsis – the early stages of septic shock. She’s got blood poisoning.”
“Blood poisoning?! How the hell did she get that?” asked Greg.
“Well, her husband tells us that her immune system is weak, so that’s obviously why the infection has spread so quickly, which brings me to the question I was coming out to ask. Does anyone know how long she’s had that dog bite on her leg?”
Charlotte felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “A dog bite? Are you sure?” she asked the paramedic.
He nodded. “Oh, yes, absolutely. There’s no doubt.”
Charlotte glanced over to Ryan, who, completely without the aid of makeup, had gone as white as a sheet. “Is the bite on her thigh?” she asked slowly. “About here?” She indicated a spot on her own leg.
“Yes, that’s it, right there. Do you know when it happened?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yesterday evening, around half past eight.”
“And what’s happened to the dog?” asked the paramedic. “We have to ask in cases of dog bites, you see.”
“What do you mean, what’s happened to the dog? I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question.”
“It’s just procedure, Miss,” said the paramedic, “in case anyone complains … about the dog, I mean.”
“Complains about the dog?! Well, I’ll tell you what happened to the dog,” said Charlotte, struggling to keep her voice steady. “The dog got stabbed by that maniac woman in there while he was trying to save me from getting murdered. That’s what happened to the dog, whose name, incidentally, is Pippin!”
“It’s okay, I’ll handle this,” said Nathan, seeing Charlotte’s distress. He took the paramedic out of the room to explain the situation.
“I’m going home,” she said wearily. She spoke briefly to Ryan before pulling on her jacket. As she opened the front door, she heard Nathan say,
“Rachel Potts, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Miranda Potts, and the attempted murder of Charlotte Denver and Ryan Benson. You do not have to say anything ...”
Slamming the door behind her, she walked from the gloom, out into the sunshine.
Chapter 13
“So, turns out she only spilled the beans because the blood poisoning made her delirious. Apparently, she was furious when she recovered and found out that she’d confessed to Miranda’s murder,” said Nathan.
“And she tried to kill Charlotte because Tom left her the cottage in his will?” asked Laura.
“Seems that way,” said Nathan, cracking the top off a bottle of beer.
“I suppose you know that Ryan and Bella have split up?” said Charlotte, taking a sip of her rosé wine and stirring a pan of mushroom and asparagus risotto. “I think there was too much pressure on them to stay together after Rachel was exposed as the killer. Let’s face it can’t do your relationship much good when your Mum tries to bump off your boyfriend!”
“Out of interest, why did you look on the internet in the first place?” Garrett asked. “For information about Bella, I mean.”
“Well, when I first thought the killer might be Bella, I couldn’t quite believe it, so I looked online to see if there were any videos of her in competition. I suppose I just wanted to see for myself whether it was likely that she’d have been able to knock Miranda down. Of course, I didn’t know anything about Rachel’s involvement in judo until then, and that’s when the penny dropped,” said Charlotte, adding more stock to the risotto.
“I keep telling her she should get a job in the force,” said Nathan, grinning. “She gets more involved in police work than I do, these days.”
“Well I sincerely hope she doesn’t!” said Laura. “The marina wouldn’t be the same without Charlotte’s Plaice, speaking of which, how did Rachel Potts come to have your mobile number to call you at home on the night of the attack?”
“Y’know, I wondered about that for a long time,” said Charlotte. “I’d already asked all the bar owners, and Yolanda and Adam in the Mini-Mart, but none of them had given it to anyone. Then it dawned on me that she’d had it ever since she’d arrived in St. Eves. She’d found it in Tom’s address book and had called me to arrange the post-funeral celebration long before Miranda was killed.”
Garrett and Laura were having dinner with Charlotte and Nathan - the first time they’d all got together since Rachel Potts had been found guilty and the Potts family had left St. Eves.
“Ryan told me that Miranda was finally laid to rest last week,” said Charlotte. “He’s still in touch with Bella, apparently, even though they’re not going out together.”
“Well, maybe we can all forget about it now, and get on with our lives,” said Laura.
“I couldn’t agree more!” said Charlotte as she topped up Laura’s wine glass.
A loud knock at the door startled them and Pippin began to bark, running from the kitchen to the front door and back again.
“Wonder who that is?” said Charlotte, putting down her glass. “Laura, keep stirring this while I answer the door, will you?”
Well, if you’re not expecting anyone, why don’t you ignore it?” said Nathan. “It’s probably only someone trying to sell you something.”
Another loud knock sent Pippin into overdrive, so intent was he to get to the person on the other side of the door.
“Yoo-hoo! Are you at home, Charlotte? It’s me, Marjorie.”
Charlotte opened the door and smiled warmly at her old friend. Marjorie was perched on her mobility scooter, her sturdy walking stick in her hand. She had a large wicker basket on her lap.
“Can I come in, dear?” she asked, a benign smile on her wrinkled face which lit up the moment she saw Pippin.
“Yes, of course. Here, let me help you, and let me take that basket, too,” Charlotte held Marjorie’s arm as she negotiated the step into the house, taking the basket that was clutched in the old woman’s arthritic fingers.
“Oh, hello, Nathan, dear. I hope I’m not disturbing you?” Marjorie looked momentarily concerned when she saw him. “You know, I remember when my husband and I were in the first throes of young love … we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.” She gave a mischievous chuckle.
Nathan caught Charlotte’s eye briefly and raised his eyebrows, before reassuring Marjorie with a grin that she wasn’t disturbing them. “Not at all,” he said. “Garrett and Laura are here.”
“Let’s go into the living room, Marjorie,” said Charlotte, steering the old woman towards a comfortable chair aft
er everyone had said hello.
Refusing offers of tea, coffee or wine, Marjorie asked for a small glass of water instead.
“Thank you, my dear.” She took a birdlike sip from the glass Charlotte handed her before putting it down onto the table with a shaky hand. “I’m sorry to call round unannounced, but I’ve come to tell you that I’m leaving St. Eves tonight.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but Marjorie held up her hand. “Let me finish, my dear, or I’ll forget what I’m going to say.” She dabbed her forehead with a lace, lavender-scented handkerchief.
“I’m going to stay with friends just outside London. They’ve been asking me for ages to go and live with them, but I never felt like I wanted to. You see, I’d got used to living on my own and I liked having my independence, but since Tom passed, I’ve been lonely. I miss having him around. He was such a treasure.”
She stopped to take another sip of water and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “Anyway,” she said, composing herself, “there’s so much that I want to do, and I don’t want to do it on my own. I may be eighty-five, but I’ve still got a lot of life left to live.”
Charlotte looked at the old lady and felt saddened to think that she’d been lonely. She wished there was something she could do to change Marjorie’s decision, but knew there was nothing. “Oh, Marjorie, I’m so sorry you feel this way. Is there anything I can do?”
Marjorie patted Charlotte’s hand and smiled. “Yes, there is. You can stop worrying about me. I’m perfectly alright. I’ve just decided that it’s time to move on. I’ll be leaving as soon as my taxi arrives in half an hour. Now, pass me my bag, please.”
She took a large plastic cake box out of the bag and handed it to Charlotte. Immediately, Pippin’s nose twitched and his tail started to wag. “It’s my take on chocolate fudge cake,” she said, looking pleased with herself. “I’m not a bad baker, you know, and I used to make this quite a lot when Tom was alive. It has chocolate chunks in the sponge. I hope you like it.”
“Chocolate fudge cake with chocolate chunks in the sponge … what’s not to like?!” said Charlotte. “I’m going to love it. Thank you, but you didn’t have to go to trouble of baking me a cake, you know.”
“I know I didn’t, but you’ve been very kind to me over the years and I couldn’t go without leaving you with a small token of my appreciation.” Marjorie pushed herself up out of her chair. “Well, I must be on my way. I don’t want to be late for my taxi. Goodbye, my dears. Be sure to take care of yourselves, and of each other, won’t you?”
She held Charlotte in a surprisingly strong grip as she hugged her, and when she stepped back, they both had tears in their eyes.
“Oh, my, this just won’t do,” she said as she wiped her eyes again with her handkerchief. “After the funeral, I didn’t think I had any tears left to shed.” She sniffed and smiled weakly before squeezing Nathan’s hand and making her way to the front door.
Settled in her mobility scooter, she said her final goodbyes to everyone, and Pippin put his front paws up on her knees. He’d become very attached to Marjorie during her friendship with Tom and she had always made a huge fuss of him.
“Goodbye, poppet.” Marjorie scratched him under his chin and behind his ears before steering the scooter down the path and onto the pavement. She looked back one last time as she waved goodbye and then she was gone.
“Well, that was a surprise,” said Charlotte as they all went back into the house. “I feel a bit sad. I’ll miss her.”
Nathan put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him. “Don’t feel sad. She’s going to be happier with friends. Now,” he clapped his hands and rubbed them together, “how about we try a piece of that cake?”
Charlotte laughed. “After dinner!” she said.
ººººººº
As Nathan loaded the dishwasher, Charlotte took the lid off the plastic cake box. Instantly, the heady, bittersweet aroma of chocolate assailed her senses.
“Oh, my gosh. Come and look at this,” she called out, and her three dinner guests surveyed the cake in awe.
Three layers high and topped with a luscious chocolate icing, chunks of chocolate poked through the sides of the cake and swirls of white, dark and milk chocolate decorated its generously iced surface.
Charlotte cut four large wedges, her mouth watering with the anticipation of tasting the rich, chocolate confection.
“I think this calls for a cup of tea,” she said as she switched on the kettle. “And I think we should go into the living room to enjoy it properly … a cake like this deserves to be savoured.”
She put the mugs and the plates onto a tray and took them into the living room before curling up on the couch, closely followed by Pippin. Holding her plate in front of her nose, she deeply inhaled the cake’s rich chocolate fragrance before popping the first piece into her mouth.
“Mmmmmm.” She rolled her eyes. “That is soooo good.” With every forkful, Pippin’s eyes followed the cake as it travelled from the plate to Charlotte’s mouth.
“Delicious,” agreed Nathan, as he scraped the last traces of icing off the plate with his finger. “Sorry, Pip. No chocolate for you, mate,” he said to the little dog who was gazing forlornly at the empty plate.
“Here you are, Pippin. You can have this instead,” Charlotte said, throwing him a beef jerky chew stick that she’d brought with her from the kitchen. “It’s only fair that you have a treat as well.”
Pippin deftly caught the chew and took it to the other end of the couch, where he promptly hid it behind a cushion, nudging it into the corner with his nose.
Later, when Garrett and Laura had gone home, Charlotte cut the remainder of the cake in half. She planned to take it to the café and share it with Jess and a few of her favourite customers when they came in for afternoon tea or coffee. Ava, Harriett and Betty all had a sweet tooth and Marjorie’s cake was sure to hit the spot.
“Well,” said Nathan, leaning against the wall and patting his stomach as Charlotte wiped down the kitchen worktops. “I reckon there must have been at least a thousand calories in that slice of cake.” He looked over at her, his hazel eyes twinkling and full of mischief. “Any ideas about how we might work them off?”
“For goodness sake! Is that all you ever think about?” She laughed, throwing her tea towel at him, but didn’t protest too much as he lifted her off her feet and carried her upstairs.
ººººººº
An hour later, Charlotte picked up Marjorie’s cake board from the worktop and rinsed it under the tap. Made of plywood covered with tinfoil, it was one of the few things that couldn’t go in the dishwasher. She wiped the surface with a wet cloth and turned it over to do the same to the base, when she saw a patch of silver duct tape in the centre. She ran her fingers over it and felt something underneath the tape. Peeling away one of the edges, she found an envelope stuck to the board.
Inside it was a note from Marjorie.
Dearest Charlotte,
You were always very good to Tom, and have been very kind to me during my time in St. Eves. I know that Tom was so proud to be able to call you his friend.
I wanted to leave you a gift - a small token of my appreciation for your kindness to Tom, and to me, over the years.
When Tom was alive, we would try our luck on the lottery every week. We bought a ticket together and enjoyed the occasional win.
This last ticket was purchased from the big supermarket in town just before Tom was taken ill, but we never got round to claiming the winnings. Since his death, I’ve been wondering what I should do with it.
I know it’s a winning ticket, because I have checked the numbers, but without Tom here to share in the good fortune, it wouldn’t feel right to keep it for myself. In any case, I don’t need the money.
So, my dear, I would like to pass the ticket on to you, and ask that you please do not feel guilty about taking it. Instead, enjoy the money. Spend it on yourself or the people you love. Nothing would make me
happier than to know that the money has brought you happiness.
The only stipulation I place on giving you this gift is that you spend it on something that will make you happy, whether it be something you need, or something you want. The choice is yours. I know that wherever Tom is, he will be delighted with that decision.
Please don’t try to contact me with a refusal, my dear, as I will be most upset.
With my fondest regards,
Marjorie.
PS – If you have ever felt as though you’ve been followed over the last few days, don’t worry, my dear. It was only me, wondering when would be the best time to give the ticket to you. I’ve almost given it to you on numerous occasions, but in the end, decided that this would be the best way.
Charlotte shook the envelope and the lottery ticket fell out. She stared at it for what felt like the longest time. It had never occurred to anyone to ask Marjorie if she knew the whereabouts of the ticket, because no one knew that she and Tom had played the lottery together every week.
She re-read the letter twice. Despite Marjorie’s assurance that she shouldn’t feel guilty about the money, she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. She wished she could get in touch with her, but she had no idea where she was. She’d left no phone number, no forwarding address, no nothing.
She called out to Nathan. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said as he came into the kitchen and she handed him the note.
Nathan gave a low whistle. “Well, who’d have thought it? “ He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Wonder how much you’ve won?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know, but it won’t be a huge amount, I’m sure. I mean, I know Marjorie said she didn’t need the money, but if it’s worth a fortune, I’m sure she wouldn’t have given it away.”
“Well, perhaps you should check the numbers. Or I’ll check them if you want me to?” Nathan got himself another bottle of beer from the fridge and cracked off the top.
“Okay,” said Charlotte. “You check the numbers and tell me if there’ll be enough for me to get the awning repaired. If it’s more than £1,000, I’ll be over the moon.”