by Agatha Frost
It surprised Julia to know that Neil had kept something so significant secret from Sue for so long. She had always thought he was too sweet and polite to be capable of keeping such a secret, but as it turned out, he had pride and an ego too.
“Mabel’s son told me,” Julia confessed. “He must have heard it from someone in the family.”
“Are you going where I think you’re going?” Neil asked, standing still again. “Because I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Where do you think I’m going?”
“Do you think I killed Mabel to get my job back?” Neil asked, the horror loud and clear in his voice. “Don’t you know me at all?”
Hearing Neil repeat back her own thoughts made them sound sillier than they had in her head. She followed him as he continued to sweep the mess into a large pile.
“You were right about Mabel writing the note,” Julia said, deciding to shift gears. “She did move to Spain, and she was happy there. Mabel’s granddaughter, Shannon, knew all about it before she went. Mabel called her from Spain and sent pictures.”
“And yet she still ended up in the ceiling,” Neil said, looking uncomfortably at the hole above. “It’s like she’s been watching over me for all these years. I always felt like her presence had lingered, and now I know why. I’m not sure if I believe in ghosts, but I wouldn’t put it past Mabel to stick around to give me the creeps.”
“Did you see Mabel when she came back?” Julia asked. “She stopped contacting Shannon sometime in the first month after leaving. This seems like a natural place for her to come, which doesn’t explain how she ended up in the ceiling, but I feel like Mabel would have been drawn here.”
“If Mabel came to the library, I didn’t see her,” Neil said as he let out a deep breath. “The last time I saw her was when she fired me. I never came back here until they gave me her job. It was too painful. I rode the buses all day just to give me something to do when Sue thought I was at work.”
Before Julia could ask anything else, Alfie’s ladder rattled and slipped from under him. He grabbed onto the edge of the ceiling, but it was too fragile to hold his weight, and another panel crumbled down with even more dust. Alfie picked himself up off the floor with an embarrassed smile before chastising Billy for not holding the ladder still.
“I’m going to regret hiring those two,” Neil said with a shake of his head. “Unless you want to grab a brush and help, I need to get on with this. The council thinks I’m going to be able to reopen tomorrow whilst also not giving me a penny to hire a team of cleaners.”
Deciding there were other ways to spend her Sunday afternoon, Julia left Neil to it. On her way to the door, she picked up her box of blueberry muffins, leaving behind the one Neil had taken a bite out of in case he changed his mind.
She pushed on the door and was surprised to see Izzy leaning against the wall of the library, her phone clamped to her ear. Izzy did not notice Julia, so she decided to listen in for a second when she realised that Izzy was crying.
“I can’t come home,” Izzy said down the phone, tears distorting her voice. “I know, but I have a job. I know that too, but you don’t understand. Exactly! You saw him on the news. Barker’s career is taking off too quickly, and I’m the one pulling the strings. I can’t just come home because – I know, but what do you want me to do? Quit my job? That’s not fair. Please, Mum, don’t be like that. You know I – hello? Mum? Have you hung up on me?”
Izzy looked down at her phone and let out a small shriek. She ripped open her bag and threw the phone in before pulling out a small compact. She wiped away her tears before dabbing at the smooth skin under her eyes with a powder sponge. She noticed Julia when she moved the mirror to check her sleek ponytail. She spun around, the blonde tail whipping with her.
“Julia,” she said with a tight smile. “I heard you had a reputation for sneaking around.”
“Muffin, Izzy?” Julia said, offering the box and deciding not to rise to the bait.
“Are they still full of gluten?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll pass.” Izzy turned her nose up at the muffins. “I don’t want to be fat by the time I get to your age.”
Julia did not need to wonder if the young publicist was referring to Julia’s weight because the way she looked her up and down made it very clear. Julia pressed down on the lid while she thought about what she had heard on the phone.
“Is everything okay?” Julia asked. “You sounded upset on the phone.”
Izzy’s steely gaze faltered. She looked as though she was going to cry again, but she gritted her jaw and stiffened her spine.
“You really are a little snoop, aren’t you?” Izzy snapped as she folded her arms across her white blouse. “If you must know, my little sister has cancer. It went away, but it’s come back, and I can’t get the time off work to go home to visit her.”
“Oh,” Julia replied, stumped by the revelation. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Izzy. That’s terrible news.”
Izzy’s eyes fluttered, and Julia was sure tears were about to come, but she pushed them back, her eyes drifting over Julia’s shoulder. Julia turned to see Barker running down the street towards them, a copy of his book in his hand.
“Are those the muffins?” Barker asked, kissing Julia on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late, Izzy. My car wouldn’t start. I suspect Jessie took it for a spin last night and did something to wear the battery down.”
“It’s fine,” Izzy snapped, the sweet tone she usually had around Barker absent for the first time. “The TV crew’s running late. Nobody in this business seems to own a watch.”
“Izzy booked me an interview with a small American network for their current affairs show,” Barker said as he clutched his book to his chest. “Isn’t that great?”
“Marvellous,” Julia said, pushing forward a smile she hoped would come across as sincere, even though her mind was on what Izzy had just told her. “I’ll leave you to prepare. I promised Jessie we’d look at some cars to get a feel for what she can afford.”
Julia set off down the street, only turning back when she was at the corner. Barker was chatting away to Izzy, but the publicist was staring into space, her mind clearly somewhere else.
As Julia passed The Plough, Johnny jumped up from one of the tables, leaving his pint behind. He wiped the foam from his lip and waved for Julia to stop.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said as he ran to the edge of the pavement. “Have you got a minute?”
Julia followed Johnny back to the table. She declined his offer of a drink, knowing it would be better to car shop with a clear head. Johnny sipped his pint as he reached into his canvas messenger bag to pull out a file, which he had labelled ‘Mabel Crump’.
“We’re running a front page story tomorrow, and I wanted to show you before everyone found out,” Johnny said as he pulled a printed article from the file. “This is the case that keeps giving, and I gather you’re looking into it.”
“What gives you that idea?”
“Because you’re Julia,” Johnny replied with a grin as he passed her the piece of paper. “Of course you’re looking into it.”
Julia looked over the headline, the words surprising her more than she had expected.
“‘LIBRARY VICTIM SHOT DEAD’,” Julia read aloud. “Johnny, where did you hear this?”
“I can’t reveal my sources,” he said, his cheeks blushing as he fiddled with his thick-rimmed glasses. “But it’s true. My source read the full forensic report. That’s not all. Skip to the second paragraph.”
“‘The Peridale Post can also exclusively reveal that prior to making her way to the library, Mabel Crump spent an extended period of time buried underground according to dirt samples taken from her body’,” Julia read aloud once again, the words stunning her. “How can I believe this if you don’t tell me who told you this?”
“It was Sarah from the police station,” Johnny said quickly. “Believe me now?”
&
nbsp; “You gave that up too quickly,” Julia replied with a smile. “For a journalist, you don’t react well under pressure. The same Sarah you were dating last year?”
Johnny fiddled with his glasses again, his cheeks darkening. He nodded before taking the article back from Julia.
“I think I was too boring for her.”
“You’re not boring, Johnny,” Julia said, the revelation stirring up her thoughts. “I hadn’t even begun to consider how Mabel had died, but this is very interesting indeed.”
“I’m surprised Barker didn’t tell you.”
“He’s too busy with his book to notice what day it is half the time,” Julia said with a sigh. “But that’s a story for another time, and one I’d rather tell over a drink.”
“Trouble in paradise?” Johnny asked, a little too eagerly. “Has his new found fame changed him?”
“Let’s just say I’m not the only woman in his life right now,” Julia said as she stood up. “And I don’t think Barker is famous just yet, so I don’t need to worry about that.”
“Maybe you’re the one who’s too distracted to notice what’s going on, Julia,” Johnny said before sipping his pint. “I think you need to get online and type in your fiancé’s name. You might be quite surprised.”
After saying goodbye to Johnny, Julia set off home. She did as Johnny instructed on her phone, her stomach dropping to her feet when she saw what he had been hinting at.
10
“Is Alfie up to something?” Jessie asked, her chin resting on her hands as she watched Julia ice a chocolate cake. “He always seems to be busy.”
“He’s got a lot on his plate at the moment,” Julia replied, knowing it was not her place to reveal the truth about Kylie. “They’re re-opening the yard this week, and they’re fixing the ceiling at the library.”
“Billy isn’t too busy to text back,” Jessie huffed as she checked her phone. “Who knew siblings could be so annoying?”
“I could have told you that,” Julia said with a chuckle as she smoothed out the last lines on the glossy surface of the cake. “How does it look?”
“Perfect, as always.”
“It’s for Barker.” Julia stepped back to assess her handiwork. “His favourite double chocolate fudge cake to apologise for being a bad fiancée.”
“What have you done?”
Julia opened the nearest drawer and pulled out the stack of papers she had printed off, detailing Barker’s rise to internet fame since his book launch. She dropped the stapled stack onto the counter, forcing Jessie to sit up straight.
“And that’s only half of it,” Julia said, rubbing her eyes. “Articles, reviews, press interviews, blogs, social media. He even has a Barker Brown fan group.”
“I bet it has four members,” Jessie snorted.
“Four hundred, actually,” Julia said, the number surprising her. “And it grew every time I refreshed the page. Look at this! The Guardian gave it four stars and called it ‘the freshest British crime novel of the year’! And his interview on Chatty Women has already clocked up a hundred thousand hits online. I checked the review sites, and everyone’s raving about the book in their hundreds, and it’s in the top ten of the eBook charts! All this has been going on, and I haven’t paid it any attention. I’ve been worrying about a decade old corpse and blueberry muffins instead of supporting the man I love. I should have been by his side for all of this, but he has Izzy there to hold his hand and tell him he’s doing great.”
Jessie flicked through the pages, and even she looked impressed. “Stormzy retweeted about the book!”
“Who?”
“Never mind. You’re too old.”
Jessie pushed the papers back to Julia before looking up into the corner of the room, her eyes scrunching up as though she was deep in thought. Julia put the stack of papers back in the drawer and waited for Jessie to say what was on her mind.
“Barker is having the time of his life right now,” Jessie said after a long pause. “And he’s always busy, but you’re a busy woman too. Even when you’re not snooping about, you have a café to run, and you’re not exactly going to start taking days off to follow him to London every five minutes.”
Julia knew Jessie had a point, but it did not make her feel any better. She should have kept in the loop, or at least asked more in-depth questions about what was happening. Instead, she had allowed every other thing surrounding her to captivate her attention.
The oven beeped, signalling that the lasagne was ready. She turned the dial down before taking it out with a pair of oven gloves. She rested the dish on a cooling rack, the bubbling creamy surface making her mouth water. She looked up at the cat clock above the fridge. Barker had said he would be home at eight, but it was now quarter past. Jessie’s phone beeped, causing her face to light up.
“Alfie?”
“Billy,” Jessie said, biting her lip. “He’s only gone and bloody done it! As yummy as the lasagne looks, cake lady, I’m going out.”
“Is Billy taking you on a date?”
“You could call it that,” Jessie said as her fingers tapped on the screen. “He’s found the location for this month’s Revolution Rave, and it’s tonight!”
“The what now?”
“Revolution Rave,” Jessie replied with a roll of her eyes. “You really are ancient, aren’t you?” Jessie finished texting before stuffing the phone into her jeans’ pocket. “It’s an underground rave that happens every month, but it’s super top secret. It’s never in the same place twice because the police always shut it down, but Billy’s cracked the code! They publish a puzzle the day of the rave, and we’ve been trying for months, but the idiot has actually unlocked it! I won’t ever call him thick again.”
Jessie ran off to her bedroom as though she had fully explained herself, but Julia had heard the words ‘rave’ and ‘police’ and was not satisfied. She ripped off the oven gloves and chased after Jessie, who was changing her baggy jeans for skinny ones.
“Jessika Rice!” Julia said, her arms folded tightly. “Did you just tell me you’re going to an illegal rave, or do I need my ears washing out?”
“Don’t freak,” Jessie said with another eye roll. “Everyone goes to them.”
“You’re seventeen!”
“And I’m eighteen next month!”
“You’re still seventeen!”
“Relax!” Jessie cried as she peeled her black hoody off before digging through the pile of similarly coloured clothes in the bottom of her wardrobe. “I have a fake ID.”
“I think I need a sit down.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t do this when you were my age.”
“I didn’t!”
“Well, Sue did,” Jessie said as she pulled a black vest top over her head. “She told me. Where are my trainers?”
Jessie tipped her washing basket upside down and two black shoes fell out. She crammed her feet into them without undoing the laces before running over to her bedside table. She pulled it open and took a stack of notes from a huge bundle of cash.
“Where did you get all that money?”
“It’s what you pay me,” Jessie replied with another eye roll. “I’m saving for a car. Here, look how good this is.”
Jessie passed her a piece of plastic. It resembled a driving licence but was unmistakeably fake, and the picture was evidently not of Jessie despite the dark hair.
“This says you’re forty-seven!” Julia cried, the outrage growing with every breath. “You’re not going!”
“Do you think I’ve never been to a rave before?” Jessie asked as she ruffled her dark hair in the mirror before lifting it and tying it up. “What do you think I do on the weekends? Up or down?”
“Jessie!”
“Fine!” Jessie cried, pulling the bobble out and throwing it on her messy floor. “Down it is.” Her phone beeped, pushing her smile wider. “Got to go. Billy’s meeting me at his place and they stop letting people in after a certain number.”
Jessi
e snatched the fake ID from Julia before she had a second to comprehend what was happening. Jessie sprayed deodorant up and down her body, applied lip balm to her lips, kissed Julia on the cheek, and ran out the front door before Julia could say another word. She touched the cherry-scented sticky lip print Jessie had just left on her cheek, and she was unsure of what to do. The front door opened, and Julia expected Jessie to run back in, but it was Barker.
“You’ll never guess where Jessie has just run off to,” Julia said, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “An illegal underground rave!”
“She’s at that age,” Barker replied as he kissed her on the cheek. “Didn’t you do stuff like that when you were seventeen? Do I smell lasagne? I’m starving.”
Barker walked into the kitchen, leaving Julia staring at Jessie’s open bedroom door. Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her apron, and it was a text from Jessie saying: ‘I’ll be home before midnight. Don’t worry! Billy looks after me xx’.
Julia swallowed the mothering instinct within her. She had often wondered if raising teenagers was more difficult when you only met them when they were teenagers, or if it was just as hard when you raised them from birth.
“Look at this,” Julia said, showing the text to Barker. “As casual as that. ‘Don’t worry!’. That girl is going to be the death of me.”