by Agatha Frost
“Your glove,” Thomas instructed, patting the target, “right here.”
Julia sighed and glanced at Jessie and Alfie; their amused smirks grew with each passing second. With all the force of a falling leaf, Julia gave the pad a tap. She knew her attempt was pathetic even before she registered the look of disappointment on Thomas’s face.
“I’m not sure—”
“A child could throw a better punch than that,” Thomas cut in, nodding for Julia to re-join him as she attempted to slip away. “See this white dot? Don’t just aim for it, aim through it.”
Giving another reluctant huff, Julia noticed Jessie’s phone glide up, no doubt capturing every moment for her viewing pleasure. Julia had never been one for physical violence. Self-defence was important, but aside from Barker showing her the pressure points to jab and the muscles to pinch, she knew very little about how to handle a charging attacker.
Still, Julia wasn’t sure she could get away with another mouse punch, especially since Jessie was keen on posting embarrassing videos on social media for the whole village to witness. She inhaled through her nose, and the image of her messy cottage popped up; it was enough to make her see red.
Julia clenched her hand as tight as she could in the thick glove and grunted. She aimed for the spot, but in her mind, she saw through it to the red wall on the other side of the studio. The glove struck the pad, slightly sending Thomas’s hand back.
“Bloody hell!” Jessie cried.
The red mist cleared immediately, but at that moment, Julia suddenly understood the appeal of the sport. She might not have broken a sweat, but her stress level had lowered.
“Better.” Thomas grinned as he pulled the pads off. “You should come back to learn the real stuff when you’ve popped that little one out. I’ll give you a family discount. For now, you’re dismissed.”
Julia returned her gloves with a meek smile and climbed out of the ring, glad she had opted for jeans and a t-shirt instead of one of her usual vintage dresses. Now that she had followed Thomas’s rules, she stepped back and let Jessie and Alfie climb in; their younger limbs moved with more grace than she had shown.
For the next ten minutes, Julia watched Thomas instruct them, this time having Jessie and Alfie as opponents. Julia wasn’t surprised to see how well-versed they already seemed in combat techniques considering their difficult foster-care upbringings.
Rather than asking Thomas questions from the side while he attempted to teach the siblings, Julia took one of the seats around the edge. She hated interruptions when she was in the zone, creating a new recipe. Her phone vibrated in her handbag, giving her something to do. When Barker’s handsome face popped up, she slipped out of the studio and didn’t answer until she was alone in the dark staircase.
“Where are you?” Barker asked in a whisper.
“In Riverswick,” Julia started. “Where are you?”
“What are you doing there?” Barker replied as she heard what sounded like a door closing. “I’ve just got home. I thought you’d be here.”
“What happened to your drink with Christie?”
“Fell through.” Barker inhaled, and Julia heard Mowgli meow in the background; she could almost see Barker sat on the edge of their bed with Mowgli pressing up against him. “He’s busy. He…”
Barker’s voice trailed off. Julia checked her phone, but the call was still connected. She snuck down the steep staircase and slipped through the heavy door and out into the fresh air. Phone to her ear, she turned to look up the street, and she collided with someone. The phone fell from her hand and landed on the polished stone pavement with a splitting crack. She darted to pick it up, but the screen had splintered into a million pieces.
“You should have a case on that,” the woman she had bumped into said.
Julia sprang up, recognising Helen, Thomas’s sister. Helen didn’t apologise or offer to help Julia up; she just stared down and waited. Julia stood and looked at her phone, wishing she could go back to the durable Nokia of her early 20s. Luckily, only the protective screen had cracked.
“No harm done,” Julia said, peeling off the broken layer to reveal the intact screen. “Helen, isn’t it?”
Helen squinted at Julia. After a long moment, a flicker of recognition lit her eyes, but she still didn’t offer an apology for her part in the bumping. In the awkward silence, Julia noticed that Helen’s blouse buttons didn’t quite line up.
“Right.” Helen nodded, face emotionless. “Dot’s granddaughter. Didn’t recognise you without the green face.”
Julia attempted to laugh, not wanting to point out they had met earlier, at the Comfy Corner, even if they had barely spoken. Even though Julia didn’t know much about her, they were still technically related now, so she was still willing to give Helen the benefit of the doubt.
“I’m sorry about what happened to your dad,” Julia said. “It can’t be easy right now.”
“I’m holding it together,” Helen replied, her tone softening. “I don’t think it’s sunk in yet. It’s hard to grieve for someone you didn’t know for thirty years and only saw once in a blue moon, even if that person was your father. It feels like he’s just pulled another of his vanishing acts.”
Julia understood that feeling. Her relationship with her father had been similar throughout her teens and most of her twenties, only showing signs it could be mended when Julia moved back to Peridale after the breakdown of her first marriage. If her father had died in those years of estrangement, she wasn’t sure how she would have taken the news either.
“Are you meeting Thomas?” Julia asked, hooking her thumb at the door behind them. “He’s just in the middle of giving Jessie and Alfie a lesson.”
“Oh.” Helen checked her watch. “That’s why he’s not answering his phone. I have a chicken in the oven.”
“You live close?”
“One of the apartments down the road,” Helen explained. “It’s Thomas’s, but I’m staying with him for a while. Can’t afford anything on my own right now.”
“Right,” Julia nodded, remembering their brief conversation at the wedding. “The divorce. I know all too well what that can be like.”
“You’re divorced?”
“Attempt number two,” Julia replied, holding up her wedding band. “I put in twelve years, and I knew it wasn’t working for about ten of them.”
Helen’s expression softened and, for the first time, she smiled.
“Try thirty,” Helen replied, her lips tight and eyes wide. “Caught him sleeping with his thirty-five-year-old accountant.”
“Twenty-five-year-old secretary,” Julia offered. “Blonde as butter and as thin as a rake.”
Helen’s smile grew, and Julia felt the prickly tension between them melt a little. She wasn’t sure she and Helen would ever be best friends, but a smile was better than nothing. Julia wanted to keep family tensions low. She wondered if Helen was like Sue in that she didn’t like significant family changes.
“I guess it’s true what they say,” Helen replied, letting out a little laugh. “Men are pigs.”
“Not all.” Julia held up her ring again with a wink even as her mind turned once again to Ian’s murder. “Did you see your dad at the wedding before … before it happened?”
Helen thought for a moment before shaking her head. “Not that I recall, but I saw him on my way there. Thomas and I came over in a taxi, and we drove past that B&B where Uncle Eugene and Marley are staying. I spotted my dad, but that’s the last I saw of him.”
“At the B&B?”
“He was talking to Marley,” Helen explained. “At least, I assumed it was Marley since he was already dressed as the Tin Man.” She checked her watch. “I have to get back, or the chicken will burn to a crisp. Let Thomas know, will you?”
Julia nodded that she would, and Helen turned on her heel with a final smile and made her way back up the street, tripping over her feet as she went. She stopped just before the bar and disappeared into the factory wal
l. Helen was a little clumsy and obviously socially awkward, but she seemed harmless.
Turning back to the studio, Julia plucked her phone from her bag and, to her relief, it turned on when she held down the power button. Before she could call Barker to see what had interrupted his evening with DI Christie, Jessie and Alfie burst out of the door, both red-faced.
“It’s Percy,” Jessie cried, her mobile phone clutched to her chest, still wearing the boxing gloves. “He’s been arrested.”
10
Dot spent the next morning at the café, slumped at the table nearest the window, ignoring her tea and anyone who attempted to talk to her. Instead, she sat in silence, eyes firmly on the church across the green. The police were still treating the area as a crime scene, not that Dot’s eyes were fixed on them. She just stared, blank and vacant.
“Her aura is grey,” Evelyn whispered to Julia across the counter as they both watched. “Perhaps I could cleanse her?”
“I think it’s best to keep your distance,” Julia said, repeating the same advice she had given her customers all morning. “I think she’s still in shock.”
Evelyn picked up her tea and headed to the door, but she hesitated at Dot’s table. Julia held her breath and felt Jessie do the same. Evelyn reached into her billowing green kaftan and pulled out her satchel of crystals. She perched one on the edge of Dot’s table before scurrying for the door; Dot didn’t so much as glance at the stone.
“We have to do something,” Jessie whispered as she emptied the coffee grounds from the machine. “She’s not said a word.”
Julia had been trying to give her gran space, but she had to agree. She wasn’t sure how much longer Dot could keep scaring off customers. The regulars had been taking away their orders all morning.
“Gran?” Julia said gently as she replaced the untouched, cold tea in front of Dot with a new cup. “Why don’t you go home and lie down?”
Dot continued to stare out the window as though Julia hadn’t spoken. Julia glanced at Jessie, who gave her an encouraging nod. Knowing she was risking her gran’s wrath, Julia sat across from her and waited, uninvited. To her surprise, Dot’s eyes drifted to meet hers. Julia was sure it took her gran a split second to even recognise who she was.
“He didn’t do it,” Dot muttered in a small, croaky voice. “He didn’t do it.”
“Gran, I know he—”
“He didn’t do it,” Dot repeated. “He didn’t do it, did he, Julia?”
“He didn’t, Gran.”
Dot went back to staring through the window. Julia wanted to reach across the table and grab her gran’s hands, but she kept them clenched in her lap under the table. She had no idea how to shake her gran out of whatever trance-state she had entered. She pushed the tea closer despite knowing Dot wouldn’t touch it.
“Do you think he did it?” Jessie whispered to Julia when she was back behind the counter.
“Of course not,” she replied quickly. “Barker said Christie was under pressure to arrest someone, and Percy was their lead suspect.”
“They must have something on him.”
“Not according to Barker.”
“So, why haven’t they released him yet?”
Julia glanced at the clock as the hands struck noon; she had been wondering the same thing all day. She had awoken that morning hoping Percy had been released during the night. For now, the police seemed eager to keep him for the full twenty-four hours allotted before they needed to charge him with something or release him.
The café door opened, dragging her from her thoughts. Marley entered, a plastic bag in hand. Julia shouldn’t have been surprised to see him; it was Wednesday, after all.
“Have I come at a bad time?” Marley approached the counter, glancing at Dot. “Is she okay?”
“The police are currently interrogating her husband,” Jessie replied sharply, “so, no, she’s not okay.”
“Excuse my nineteen-year-old daughter,” Julia said, motioning for Marley to join them behind the counter. “She hasn’t learned tact yet, but I’m sure it’s coming any day now.”
Leaving Jessie to man the counter of the almost-empty café, Julia and Marley retreated into the kitchen. While Julia loved her gran dearly, the air in the kitchen was less tense. She wasn’t sure if she believed in all the mysticisms the universe had to offer, but perhaps Evelyn had been correct about Dot’s ‘grey aura.’
“Impressive,” Marley said, resting the bag on the counter as he looked around the stainless-steel kitchen. “You have the full works here. It all looks brand new.”
“We had a full refurbishment in March,” Julia explained, washing her hands at the sink. “One of the water pipes was kind enough to burst, so we re-did the whole place. What’s your café like?”
“Nothing like this.” Marley chuckled. “It’s small. Quaint, some say, but we’re busy, and that’s all that matters.”
“That’s true.”
“Although, I wouldn’t mind some of this kit. How long have you been open?”
“Four years, give or take.”
“So few?” Marley arched a brow. “You’ve built yourself quite the little empire here then.”
While Marley washed his hands, Julia wondered if she had detected a slight twinge of jealousy in the man’s voice. She looked around her café, and while it was quiet today, the busy days more than made up for it, which had made the renovation possible.
“I suppose I’m lucky,” Julia said.
“It takes more than luck, dear.” Marley dried his hands on a tea towel before unloading the contents of his shopping bag. “It even takes more than talent. You have a way with people, Julia, not just ingredients. A fancy café with delicious cakes is nothing without a heart, and you’re the heart of this village, even I can see that. It takes a talented baker to create something delicious, vegan or not. Lord knows, the supermarkets are slapping ‘vegan’ stickers on everything lately, but little of it meets my standards – and I’m sure yours too – which is why I’m over the moon that you’ve decided to incorporate something onto the menu. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of picking up a few things to make the process easier.”
Julia scanned the ingredients, and it only took her a second to realise what Marley wanted them to bake.
“Brownies,” Julia replied with a smile.
“Vegan no butter, no egg, no milk brownies, to be exact,” Marley replied, standing back to look at the ingredients. “Might not sound like a barrel of laughs, but it’s one of my top sellers. After Eugene and Evelyn’s glowing reviews, I thought we could combine our recipes to come up with something unique for your café. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Julia picked up one of the chocolate bars and scanned the back. “In fact, I love the idea. I don’t get that many people asking for vegan options, but if this is as good as my regular brownie, I can make the switch and please everyone!”
“Except for the people who don’t like chocolate.” Marley winked. “But we don’t want them in our cafés, anyway.”
Julia chuckled. Considering their previous meeting at the B&B, she had expected things to be more awkward between them, but this conversation felt as natural as it could, considering the age gap between them. While she liked Eugene’s over-the-top delivery and booming voice, Marley’s more cerebral and dry humour was just as appealing, even without taking into account their shared passion for baking.
Julia hoped Marley wasn’t the one behind Ian’s murder. Until the truth came out, she wanted to remain as neutral as possible. Still, she was rooting for the couple to be innocent because she enjoyed being loosely related to them. But until proven otherwise, they remained suspects, and Julia had burning questions.
For the first ten minutes, they worked exclusively on paper, going back and forth to combine their recipes. The current brownie on the menu was adapted from her mother’s handwritten recipe book, although Julia had made enough tweaks and changes over the years to consider it h
er own. While she used milk, eggs, and butter in her brownie, Marley’s recipe wasn’t too far removed from what she was used to.
“Caramel extract instead of vanilla?” Marley read aloud when they had a recipe to work from. “And a generous pinch of Himalayan salt?”
“Trust me.” Julia retrieved the equipment from one of the many cupboards. “It makes all the difference.”
They spent the next couple of minutes measuring the ingredients based on their scribblings. When they were ready to start baking, Julia felt she had let things breathe enough to bring up the elephant in the room.
“What do you make of Percy’s arrest?” Julia asked, deciding not to beat around the bush.
Marley gave Julia a smile she knew meant ‘I was waiting for this to come up’, but he didn’t immediately storm out. She sensed they were about to have an adult conversation.
“I wasn’t surprised,” Marley replied as he added the flour, cocoa powder, and sugar to a large glass bowl. “Eugene was, but I wasn’t. Were you?”
Julia shook her head. “I was expecting it to come sooner rather than later. Do you think Percy could have done it?”
“Honestly?” Marley sighed. “I’m not sure. I can’t claim to know Percy all that well. Eugene and I only met sixteen years ago, so we weren’t exactly young. It’s rather hard to make deep connections at this age when we all have so much history. I’ve always liked Percy, but I can’t lie and say I’ve spent enough time with him outside of Christmas and birthdays to know him well enough to say either way. I do know Percy hated Ian more than anyone, and for the police, that likely seems motive enough.”
“I’m glad you brought up Ian.”
“Oh?”
“Helen saw you talking to him outside the B&B,” Julia said, her voice slightly shaky, “on the morning of the wedding.”
This time, Marley didn’t smile. His slender features sagged as his eyes homed in on the dairy-free chocolate he began forcefully breaking into chunks. While she waited for his response, Julia filled a pan with water and set it boiling on the hob.