Greengage Shelf

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  “Really?”

  “Sure! Or I can come over to your flat. Think it over. Whatever you decide, don’t beat yourself up so much. The fact that you’re so worried about not doing enough with him and feeling guilty for resenting your parent-weight shows what a great dad you are.”

  “You think so?” he said, doubt lacing his voice. “I really want to get this right, Kit. I always wanted to be a dad, and more to the point, I wanted to be the sort of dad my child could be proud of. Someone who made them happy, safe, and who gave them every chance I never got.”

  “You will be. Or, I mean, you are.”

  He sat up and shook off some moroseness. “Anyway, love, I’ll be the sort of dad who is dead from exhaustion if I don’t get one of those protein bars and a big bucket of coffee before I go home to shower.”

  “Protein’s on the table. I’ll go put the kettle on.”

  “Kettle?” He whinged. “You mean you only have instant coffee?”

  She pointed a finger at him. “Yep, and you’ll bloody well have it without any coffee snob comments. This is a tea-drinking house. You’re lucky to get any coffee at all.”

  He held up his hands in a placating way. “Sorry. Instant is fine.”

  She went into the kitchen to put the kettle on, and Josh soon joined her. He swallowed down a big bite of protein bar before saying, “How are things going with the bookshelf mystery? Rumour has it that you haven’t found the culprit yet?”

  “The rumours are right,” Kit grumbled.

  He knitted his perfect brows. “Sorry to hear that. Where are you up to?”

  During the tea- and coffee-making process, Kit told him all: everything from Alice’s suspicions, to all the suspects, all the way up to the hidden will. She knew she could trust Josh, and what was more, he was a good listener. Unlike people like Aimee and Rajesh, he wasn’t so eager to help that he ended up spouting theories before Kit had even finished. He simply listened with his head tilted and his hands cupping the milky coffee she had handed him.

  “So that’s where we stand now,” she finished.

  “I see. Quite the tangled mess there, love.”

  “You can say that again,” Kit said, blowing on her hot tea.

  He frowned. “I can see that it has you worried.”

  Kit peered into the russet liquid of her mug; its darkness matched her mood. “I like to help people and puzzle out how to fix stuff. That’s why I agree to these things. Except… there’s another side to it.”

  “I’ve known you long enough to hazard a guess. You don’t like disappointing people?”

  “Good guess. I hate it,” Kit said with a wince. “I disappointed my mum when I was little and helped my dad hide his affairs from her. It was the first time I learned to meddle and to solve people’s problems, and it lost me her love.”

  Josh clicked his tongue. “Sounds like her love was easy to lose if she didn’t forgive a child, who didn’t know any better, for helping its father?”

  Kit grunted and turned away. “Never mind all that. My point is that I can’t stand disappointing people, and I’m failing with this bookshelf mystery. I can’t fix this, so I’ll have to let that sweet old lady down.”

  “Isn’t it a little early to assume you’re failing?”

  “I don’t know. I thought this whole business would be simple and straightforward. I figured this would take a few days before turning out to be a friend searching for a recipe book and forgetting to tell Alice, that sort of thing.”

  “Except now it’s been weeks and you haven’t got a neat explanation to hand her on a flowery plate?”

  “Exactly. It sucks.” She paused. “Wait, why a flowery one?”

  He shrugged. “Rachel says Alice loves flowery patterns.”

  “Blimey, the fact that everyone on this island knows everything about everyone is scary,” she said, returning to her tea.

  They drank in silence for a moment. Kit made herself nibble her protein bar, more to fuel her muscles after the workout then due to an appetite. She was too worried to be hungry.

  Josh patted her arm. “You know, earlier you told me not to be so hard on myself. You should take that advice, too. You’ll figure out who did it. Hey, what about Liam?”

  Kit took another listless bite. “Yeah, talking to him is next on my list. What do you know about him?”

  “Liam has always been a troublemaker, but I think his heart is in the right place. Of course, I might be seeing him through rose-coloured glasses since he’s got that misunderstood, bad-boy vibe and is sexy as fu—um… as fudge.”

  Kit’s downheartedness poured off her like rain off a pair of wellies. “He’s sexy as fudge, huh? Well, at least me and my lesbian libido won’t be swayed. We stick to…” She tried to think of another sort of sweets. “I don’t know, love hearts.”

  He put a hand to his chest and gasped. “Love hearts? Are you using my childhood’s wholesome sweets as some sort of euphemism here?”

  Kit considered this. “I actually don’t know what’s euphemisms and what’s plain rambling anymore. My brain is knackered after the Pilates and this book mystery. I need an easy, normal day at work tomorrow to clear my head. After that, I’ll go see this sexy-as-fudge bloke and see what he knows.”

  “Do. If nothing else, I hear he’s a good handyman, so if you need anything fixed around here, hire him.”

  “Uh-huh.” Kit crossed her arms over her chest. “So you and Matt can come over to ogle him?”

  “No! Well, I mean, if you need some extra handymen, we can perhaps swing by to help out.”

  “Ha! Funny that you didn’t feel the need to do that when Shannon was helping me lay new flooring after New Year’s.”

  He gave a good-natured chuckle. “If you have Shannon here, you don’t need extra handymen. Take it from someone who works with her.”

  “Fair enough.” Kit adjusted her glasses and looked away. “So… Thanks, um, for listening.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said kindly. “I feel the same way about chatting and listening to people as you do about fixing their problems. It’s kind of what I do. Matt is the same, actually.”

  Josh put his mug down and headed for the door. “Anyway,” he said. “I better hurry home and have a hot shower to relax these muscles. They’re not used to working that hard.” He stretched and whimpered. Then his face brightened. “After that, it’s my turn to give Clark a bath and read him his bedtime story. Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Thanks for the workout.” Kit handed him his Pilates DVD. “Don’t forget this, mate.”

  He took it. “Cheers. Good luck with Liam tomorrow!”

  He put his shoes on, blew her a theatrical kiss, and left.

  In Josh’s wake, the doubts and worries about the bookshelf mystery came creeping back. The cottage was so still and empty. The silence of her home felt heavier now that Kit couldn’t get Laura to pop over and fill it in the blink of an eye.

  “Only one thing to do,” she mumbled to the quiet room. “Ring Aimee and hear a bunch of mainland gossip and be told what miracle little George has achieved today.”

  First, though, she needed a shower and then some more tea. After all, most things could be solved with tea.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shit Lies About Manure

  The weather, with all its clouds and dampness, was as dreary as you’d expect of a Monday afternoon. Terribly clichéd of it, Kit thought. Despite this she had a new spark of energy. Josh had been right; she shouldn’t assume she had failed with the bookshelf case yet.

  Since Rajesh was closing up, Kit was able to go straight from the library to Nettle Road. This time she wasn’t heading to Alice’s cottage but to the far less picturesque two-bedroom, semi-detached house next to it. The home of Liam Soames.

  Kit checked her phone for any new texts. She had asked Rachel to duck out from the pub for a little while and help her with Liam. This was partly to ask Rachel if Kit’s help was still needed with Shannon, and partly because if Liam
really did have a crush on her, Rachel’s presence might make him more talkative and helpful. Also, she knew what he looked like. Kit didn’t fancy walking around asking every young bloke in sight if he happened to be Liam.

  There was no text yet, but as Kit stood staring at the screen in wait, she felt fingers spider up her side and heard Rachel sniggering.

  “Evenin’, detective! Laura said you were ticklish.”

  Kit quashed a laugh and stood back to avoid another tickling attempt. “Oi! God, you’re almost as much trouble as Aimee.”

  “Aww! Since I like Aimee, I’m taking that as a compliment. How is she and that little cutie of hers?”

  “They’re good. Aimee likes her job and George thinks Southampton is—in his words—‘pretty and squishy.’ No one knows what that means.”

  “That’s great to hear!”

  “Yep. What about you? How are you tonight?”

  “Good now that I’m out of the pub. Shannon is still giving me the silent treatment. Actually, no. She is talking to me now, but it’s all terribly polite and cold. It’s driving me bonkers.”

  Kit pushed her glasses up, then did it again before she could stop the tic. “Rach, I’m so bloody sorry I haven’t spoken to Shannon yet!”

  “It’s okay. I knew you were busy with the Maximillian thing and the bookshelf case.

  “Phew,” she said and wiped her brow, making Rachel laugh. “To be honest, I’m surprised this hasn’t sorted itself out by now.”

  “I’m sure it would if she’d talk to me,” Rachel said. “Although, in a way, I think the silence is good. If it was something serious enough to end our relationship, she would’ve said something by now. Still, it’s not like her to sulk like this.”

  Kit put an arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “I’ll talk to her. Soon, I promise. Right now, though, we need to chat to Liam. Is that okay?”

  In a flash, Rachel looked as happy-go-lucky as ever, making Kit wonder how much of it was an act every day.

  “Sure,” she said while tucking flyaway strands back into her messy bun. “Let’s go talk to him. He’s a decent bloke, he’s just… surly and has a chip on his shoulder.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  Kit was about to knock on the door when it was flung open, revealing a young man a little taller than Kit. He had a pained look, accentuated by the ash-blond hair which fell into his eyes. He had delicate features and a slender but fit build. He made Kit think of Ryan Gosling. Or maybe James Dean?

  He slouched against the doorframe and squinted at them from under lashes, as if posing for a picture.

  Wow. This guy’s trying too hard. Does he think we’re here from some teen magazine to interview him about his star sign and his favourite colour?

  “Rach,” he said with what was probably meant to be a smouldering look. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”

  “No,” she replied cheerily. “I think the last time was when we raked up the leaves from under Alice’s elm. I’m glad you cut that tree down. It shed like a cat before summer.”

  “Yeah, it was sick, too. It had to go. I had to take care of it.”

  “Mm-hm. Anyway, this is my friend Kit. She’s the one who’s helping Alice figure out who messed with her shelves and stole a book.”

  “I know,” he said. “Alice talks about it a lot. It really bothers her that one of her poncy sons has messed with her stuff.”

  “Hi. Nice to meet you,” Kit said, quickly deciding that this guy wouldn’t want a handshake. “So, you think it was either Anthony or Phillip who nicked the book?”

  He leaned even closer against the doorframe. “Yep. I mean, who else could it be? Unless it was that bratty, thieving cow.”

  Rachel cleared her throat and fidgeted with the spaghetti strap of her tank top. Kit tried not to let her dislike of his choice of words show as she asked, “Do you mean Caitlin Caine?”

  “Uh-huh. The golden princess who can do no wrong, even if she steals your lighter and then refuses to give it back.” He scoffed and peered up at the overcast sky. “When I told her dad that she had my best lighter, he said I was lying to try to get her into trouble. Like, why would I give a shit about her? I just wanted my bloody lighter back.”

  “So you suspect Phillip, Anthony, or Caitlin?” Kit clarified.

  “Well, yeah, unless some outsider snuck in. Or Alice just lost the book, but that doesn’t sound like her.”

  Kit wondered if they were ever going to be invited in. At the moment Liam had one foot in his house and one foot out in the drive, blocking the doorway with his slouch. His body language didn’t exactly scream hospitality, so she supressed the idea of the cup of tea she was gasping for.

  “What about Jacqueline Caine?” she asked.

  “Jackie?” His sullen face cracked into a wolfish grin. “Nah, she’s all right. She wouldn’t go nicking things. Or, well, if she did, she’d tell me.”

  There was a definite air of smugness wafting off him, much like his cheap body spray. If he thought he was being subtle, he was wrong. Either there was something going on between him and Jackie, or at least he was sure she wanted there to be.

  Or, wait, perhaps he’s trying to make me to think that?

  Kit bored her gaze into his. “All right. Do you happen to know anything about Alice’s will?”

  “Her will?” He sucked his teeth. “Does she need one of them? Doesn’t everything she owns pass down to those wankers she calls sons when she goes six feet under?”

  Kit tried to tell if he was lying, but it was hard to see anything beyond that bad-attitude facade he kept up.

  “Are you at any point going to let us in, Liam?” Rachel asked.

  He pulled himself out of his slouch. “Nah, I wasn't planning on it. I need to go out. Gotta get some…” He hesitated. “Um, manure, for when I’m helping Alice with the changes to her garden.”

  From the disappointed sigh that Rachel let out, Kit could tell that her friend believed him as little as she did.

  He reached out a hand and brushed something invisible off Rachel’s bare shoulder. “I mean, you could come with me if you fancied?”

  Rachel gave him a look so withering that it made him take three steps back inside before she answered, “No, Liam, you go ahead and deal with your own shit… I mean, manure.”

  He smiled like a little boy caught doing something naughty. “Okay, yeah, sure. Anyway, I’m sorry I couldn’t help.” He nodded towards Kit. “I like Alice, okay? She’s real decent, and she gave me a job when no one else would. I’d help her if I could, but I don’t know anything about this.”

  Kit squinted at him. Perhaps it was paranoia, or the fact that she really wanted a cup of tea. Either way, she was sure Liam knew more than he was saying. Sadly, she was also sure that he wasn’t going to tell her anything.

  “Right, well, thanks for talking to me. I’m sure I’ll have more questions for you later, if that’s okay?”

  He looked about as enthusiastic as a dog on the way to the vet but still nodded.

  Assuming that was all she was getting, Kit waved and said, “We’ll leave you to go get your manure. Just be aware that all the shops selling that sort of stuff on Greengage would’ve closed an hour ago. So, you know, you might want a better excuse for getting rid of people.”

  She gave him a wide smile and held her arm out to Rachel, indicating that she could go first. They walked away from the open door and the stunned youth standing in it.

  “Nice one,” Rachel said with a snigger.

  “Not as nice as the ten quesadillas I intend to scoff down at your pub.”

  Rachel bumped her shoulder against Kit’s. “Ha, I’d like to see you try fitting them in that tiny belly.”

  Kit smiled at her. “You know, while I eat, I’m going to have to properly ask you about the missing book. Just so I can tell the people involved with this that I did actually ask you.”

  “No need to wait until we’re eating, I can answer now. You mentioned this before, and I was abou
t to say that I know nothing about it when Laura interrupted us. If I did, I would’ve told you.”

  “Yeah, I assumed that was the case,” Kit said, weariness making her voice flat. “I was just hoping there’d be something. You helped fill those shelves. Anything you can tell me about that at least?”

  Rachel slowed her pace and watched the sky as she pondered. “Well, the books were arranged alphabetically. As a librarian, you’ll appreciate that.”

  Kit pretended to shiver. “Yes! Most people just place books on their shelves willy-nilly. Or by colours or size.”

  Rachel laughed. “I suppose so. Anyway, Alice said that was how she noticed the books had been moved: a Wharton book showed up next to a Dickens.”

  “Yes, she told me that, too.”

  “Did she also tell you that no one but she and I knew that the books were arranged alphabetically?”

  Kit clicked her tongue. “No, she didn’t. Hm. Thank you, but I don’t know if there’s anything I can use there.”

  “Only that no one would have known that she’d see any moved books right away, I guess?” Rachel shrugged. “Anyway, now you know all that I know.”

  “What about Alice’s will? Any insights on that?”

  “Nope. Why do you keep asking everyone about her will?”

  “It was hidden in the book for a while. It’s in the bank now. Still, I think it might have something to do with the disappearance of the book.”

  Rachel’s eyeliner-framed eyes widened. “Oh, I see. Well, I’m afraid I’m as little use to you regarding the will as to the book.”

  “No probs. Thanks for answering my questions.”

  “Of course. Anything to help. Now that we covered that,” she linked her arm with Kit’s, “dinner time can be devoted to something much more important.”

  “Talking to Shannon?” Kit asked.

  “No, she’s got the night off, so the pub will be drama-free. I meant your love life and what Laura’s uncle is doing to it.”