Peridale Cafe Mystery 21 - Profiteroles and Poison

by Agatha Frost

  He was even more pleased they’d bucked with the recent tradition of having a gigantic Christmas with every member of the ever-growing family. Instead, just the four of them were spending it at the cottage. For the daytime, at least. Dot insisted they go to her place so Olivia could finish her first Christmas with all her family, which was a fair compromise.

  “I know everyone just takes pictures on their phones these days,” Julia said, handing Jessie a square box wrapped in shiny red paper as they sat on the floor next to the tree in the sitting room, “but I thought it would be a shame to go to all those places and not take some amazing pictures.”

  Wearing her ‘Santa’s Little Helper’ red baby grow, Olivia watched the ripping from her bouncy chair, a plastic rattle clenched tightly in her fist.

  “This must have cost a fortune,” Jessie cried as she pulled the camera box out of the paper. “It looks legit.”

  “It is,” Barker said. “We spent hours picking it out. Best of the best for beginners.”

  “And this goes with it too,” Julia said, handing over another present. “It’s a photo album, although I want you to leave that here. You can fill it when you get back.”

  Barker clapped her on the shoulder. “So, you better get practising with those settings.”

  “Thanks,” she said, grinning from ear to ear as she held up the large, professional camera. “This is amazing.”

  Though the camera was from them both and had cost almost as much as a monthly mortgage payment on the cottage, Barker had another present for Jessie under the tree. He was much more nervous about this one; even Julia didn’t know what was inside.

  “I spent all month tracking this down,” Barker said, scratching at his stubble as he passed Jessie the gift. “It wasn’t easy, and I even started to think you were right, but I got there in the end.”

  Jessie tore away the paper to reveal a framed wedding photograph of a young couple. She blinked at it and raised quizzical eyebrows.

  “They’re your parents,” he explained. “I hit so many dead ends trying to find a lead, and then I came across their marriage certificate. It’s all public, so I was able to find out where they got married. By chance, the same people still owned the venue, and their records listed the wedding photographer. I tracked him down based on an old business card, but that only led to the obituaries. Then I really thought I’d hit a wall.”

  He took a breath as Jessie stared blankly at the picture.

  “I kept digging though,” he continued, “and I found his son, who just so happened to have taken over the family business, though they do pet portraits instead of weddings now. Still, he’d kept all his father’s old film negatives in the attic. Took him a while to dig that out, but there it is.”

  “These are my parents?” Jessie repeated as she touched their faces through the glass.

  Barker nodded. Though their names had matched, he’d had two copies printed and, over a pint at The Plough, confirmed it with Alfie. He’d stared at the photograph for so long Barker had been sure he’d shown him an image of two strangers, and then the tears came.

  “I haven’t seen their faces since I was ten years old,” he’d said. “I can’t believe I ever forgot what they looked like.”

  As Jessie stared at the picture, Julia reached across the pile of wrapping paper and clutched Barker’s knee. She bit into her bottom lip, eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “These are my parents,” Jessie stated, turning the picture out to face them. “This is where I come from. They look so normal.”

  “You look like your mother,” Julia said. “She was beautiful.”

  “I do, don’t I?” Jessie looked at the picture again, then at Barker. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Julia gripped his knee tighter, and it was his turn to bite his lip.

  Olivia’s hungry cries shook the silence away at the right time. While Julia fed her in the bedroom, Barker checked on the turkey in the oven. Jessie surprised him with a hug from behind. She buried her face against his back and clung to his waist for dear life. Without a word, she let go and left.

  Barker allowed himself a tear then.

  He’d miss her.

  But at least they still had Christmas.

  19

  JULIA

  A lone in the quiet graveyard behind St. Peter’s Church, Julia crouched in front of her mother’s headstone. She plucked the weeds and switched the dried-out bouquet she’d left on Christmas morning with a fresh arrangement for the new year.

  “She’s grown so much since my last visit,” Julia said, pulling the pram closer. “Can you believe she’s already one month old?”

  Julia remained by the headstone, talking to her mother, until the church bells chimed noon. She visited as often as she could – more so since Olivia had come along – though it never felt like long enough. If today wasn’t the day, she’d have lingered.

  As Olivia stirred from her nap, Julia pushed the pram along the bumpy grass and out of the graveyard. Life buzzed around the village green, the usual New Year’s Eve chaos stirring the air. The Christmas markets had packed up and gone, though the green wasn’t back to normal quite yet. A temporary plastic barrier walled in the patch of muddy grass, keeping the public away from the hundreds of fireworks waiting under a sheet of blue tarpaulin. Food trucks lined the road, already open and serving hot dogs, burgers, coffee, ice cream, and candy floss.

  As was usually the case on busy event days like this, everyone was so preoccupied with what was happening outside that the café was quiet. A kind stranger with a takeaway cup helped Julia lift Olivia’s pram inside. She found Jessie and Katie in the kitchen.

  “So, I put the date here,” Katie asked, pointing her fluffy pink pen in the food logbook, “and the time here?”

  “Other way around,” Jessie corrected. “But you’ve got the gist. It’s straightforward. Just keep on top of it. Too many wrong logs, and it might knock our food hygiene down to a four at the next inspection.”

  “Right.” The pen went into Katie’s hair. “I think I understand.”

  “It’s all in the instruction guide I wrote for you.” Jessie patted Katie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ve been doing great so far.”

  “And I’m only ever a phone call away,” Julia said as she pushed through the beads with the pram. “What time is the taxi picking you up, Jessie?”

  “Half-past.” She checked the clock on the wall. “Just waiting for Alfie to get his butt over here with his stuff.”

  “I honestly don’t mind driving you to the airport,” Julia offered for what had to be the twentieth time. “It’s no trouble.”

  Katie scooped Olivia out of her pram and took her through to the café, leaving Julia and Jessie alone in the kitchen.

  “A big farewell at the airport feels too much like a goodbye,” Jessie said as she looked around the kitchen. “Here, it’s not goodbye, it’s just . . . see you later.”

  Julia wanted to say ‘see you later’ at the airport to milk every last second they still had together, but she bit her tongue. Jessie hadn’t wanted any fuss over her departure, going as far as to knock the idea of a leaving party on the head before it could get off the ground. As much as Jessie denied it, Julia could tell her daughter still struggled with the idea of leaving the bubble of the village; this was her way of coping.

  “Don’t forget to water my plants,” Jessie said as she tossed her flat keys across the island. “I want them thriving when I come back.”

  “No promises.” Julia winked, pocketing the keys. “Have you packed everything? Passport? Money?”

  “All done.”

  “Toiletries? Underwear? Sunbl—”

  “Triple checked.” Jessie walked around the kitchen and pulled Julia into a hug. “It’s all taken care of, Mum. Please don’t worry.”

  “It’s my job to worry.” Julia clung tightly. “Are you excited?”

  “Honestly?” Jessie pulled away from the hug, biting back a smile. “I can’t wait. Seeing in
the new year in Paris, of all places? What could be more perfect?”

  Olivia’s cries floated through from the café.

  “Sounds like someone is hungry,” said Julia, already reaching for the pre-made bottles in the changing bag hanging off the pram.

  “Can I feed her?” Jessie asked. “One last cuddle before I go?”

  While Jessie heated one of the prepared milk bottles in a jug of boiling water drawn from the coffee machine, Julia spotted Alfie and Barker talking outside and went out to meet them.

  “John’s all set up in Alfie’s flat,” Barker revealed, pulling Julia against his warm side. “Hopefully, a year will be long enough to get through his divorce and sort out somewhere more permanent for when you come back. You are still coming back, right?”

  “Don’t worry.” Alfie let his large backpack slide off his leather-jacket-clad shoulders to the ground. “We’ll be home in time for next Christmas. Listen, while you’re both here and I still have the chance, I just wanted to thank you.”

  “For what?” Julia asked.

  “For giving me this time with my sister,” he said. His tongue rolled his lip ring. “I don’t think she would have been so honest with herself if you both weren’t so cool with it. I know you did it for her and not for me, but I really appreciate it. I promise to bring her back in one piece.”

  “I don’t doubt you will.” Julia stood on tiptoe to kiss Alfie on the cheek before hugging him. “And promise you’ll have the time of your lives.”

  “Oh, I can definitely promise that,” he said with a laugh.

  “And make sure she doesn’t forget to call home,” Julia added, letting go. “You know what teenagers can be like.”

  Julia’s gaze drifted past Alfie and up the street towards The Plough. Dot and Percy paraded down the middle of the road, two small dogs trotting beside them.

  “You’re kidding me,” she whispered.

  Barker and Alfie turned, bursting into laughter at the same time.

  “We couldn’t decide,” Dot announced with a wide grin, “so we got both!”

  Barker choked back another laugh. “Are you sure you can—”

  “Manage? We’re not dead yet, Barker.” Dot scooped up the white-haired Maltese whose lengthy hair was pulled off her face and tied with a pink ribbon. “I’d like you all to meet Lady. Isn’t she precious?”

  “And this is Bruce,” said Percy as he and the little French bulldog scurrying beside him caught up. “They were already named, but they suit them, don’t you think?”

  “I suppose they do.” Julia stroked Lady’s long, soft hair. “Couldn’t reach a compromise?”

  “Life’s too short for that.” Dot lowered Lady to the ground. “I was going to fight tooth and nail for this little angel, but I saw Bruce, and well . . . I fell in love with his silly squashed face too.”

  “He’s distinguished,” added Percy.

  “Let’s not lie to our new children, dear.” Dot pushed up her curls before checking her watch. “C’mon, Percy. Let’s get them settled in their new home. We’ll be back in time for the send-off.”

  “Right you are, my Dorothy.”

  Catching the eyes of everyone who knew them, Dot and Percy strutted the long way around the village green with their four new pairs of legs.

  “Is it me,” Barker whispered to Julia, “or do their dogs look exactly like them?”

  “And now I can’t unsee it,” she replied. “I’ll deny it if you ever say I agreed.”

  While Katie burped Olivia over her shoulder in the café, Jessie heaved her giant backpack on the pavement next to Alfie’s.

  “Was I just hallucinating, or did I just see Dot and Percy with two dogs?”

  “Two dogs,” Julia confirmed.

  “Absolutely mental.” Jessie shook her head. “Almost wish I was sticking around just to see how disastrous that’s going to be.”

  But she wasn’t, and the minutes to her departure trickled away quicker than Julia would have liked. Sue, Neil, Brian, and the kids came to bid their farewells, as did Dot and Percy, minus their new furry friends.

  Five minutes earlier than scheduled, the taxi pulled up next to the café, banishing any hope that they’d have every second until half-past together. As Alfie loaded the bags into the back of the car, Jessie went around the circle, delivering her final hugs, leaving Julia and Olivia for last.

  “Don’t grow up too quickly without me,” Jessie said, kissing Olivia on the cheek. “I’ll be back to be your big sister before you even realise I’ve been gone.”

  Barker took Olivia from Julia, freeing mother and daughter for one final hug. Neither held back their tears, clinging like they would never let go in front of the café where they’d first met.

  Olivia’s crying pulled them apart.

  “Now, that I won’t miss,” Jessie said, raising a laugh from everyone. “Right, I suppose this is it. We have a plane to catch. Take care, everyone.”

  “Have the most wonderful time,” said Dot.

  “Send plenty of postcards,” added Percy.

  “And it’s about time you accepted my friend request,” Brian demanded. “I want to keep up with everything.”

  “And wear sunscreen,” Sue said, waving Pearl’s hand while Neil did the same with Dottie’s. “Factor fifty, every day.”

  Alfie waved everyone goodbye before jumping into the front seat. Jessie walked up to the taxi and opened the door. Julia was sure she’d leave without another word, but she stopped, one leg in the car.

  “Thank you for changing my life,” she said, staring firmly at Julia. “I don’t know where I’d be now without you.” She blinked and looked around the group. “Any of you. See you all later.”

  Jessie climbed into the taxi to a chorus of goodbyes. She silenced them all by slamming the car door. Julia walked up to the window, unable to stop herself.

  “I love you, Jessie,” she mouthed.

  “I love you too, Mum.”

  The taxi pulled away from the kerb. Twisted in her seat, Jessie waved the whole way up the road, and then the car turned the corner and she was gone.

  “One year,” Barker reminded Julia, wrapping his arm around her as the crowd parted. “Just one year.”

  Sipping her peppermint and liquorice tea on the sofa in front of the warm fire, Julia replayed the short video sent from Jessie’s phone fifty-eight minutes ago.

  Deep in a crowd counting down from ten in French, the shaky camera pointed at the Arc de Triomphe lit up by a dazzling laser lights show. When the countdown reached its climax, the crowd erupted and fireworks blazed in the night sky. The camera flipped to Jessie and Alfie, jumping up and down as they shouted, “Happy New Year!” into the noise.

  They’d never looked happier.

  “Unbelievable.” Barker, sitting at the other end of the sofa, held Olivia in the crook of his arm while scrolling through his phone. “Kerry’s house is already on the market. They only want four hundred thousand.”

  “Only?” Julia scrubbed Jessie’s video back to the beginning and let it play again. “We’ll buy two.”

  “It’s easily worth double.”

  “You know we can’t afford that.”

  “I know.” He locked his phone and tossed it onto the coffee table. “A man can dream. One day. For the time being, I’m quite content as we are.”

  “Yeah,” Julia agreed, looking around their small sitting room. “Me too.”

  “Countdown’s about to start.” Barker said, raising from the sofa with Olivia in his arms. “Let’s go out and watch.”

  With Olivia all wrapped up and wearing her specially bought earmuffs, they went out to the front garden. Guided by the sound of the television’s celebrations in the sitting room, they held hands and counted down from ten.

  “Happy New Year,” Barker said softly, leaning in to kiss each of them.

  Fireworks exploded for miles around in every direction, lighting up Olivia’s curious gaze as the muffs protected her ears from the thunderous nois
e. Down in the village, the main display dazzled the darkness even from their distance.

  “If you’d told me this would be our life a year ago,” Barker said, pulling them in tighter, “I wouldn’t have believed you.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “But I wouldn’t change any of it.”

  Her gut reaction was to wish Jessie were there with them, but as much as she missed her already, Jessie’s smile in the video confirmed what Julia already knew.

  “Neither would I,” she agreed.

  They were all exactly where they needed to be.

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  C laire’s mother had her ‘everything is fine’ face on. The perfected expression might convincingly deflect untrained eyes, but Claire had caused it enough times to know that clenched jaw and toothless smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes all too well. As recently as last weekend, Janet had sustained the look for close to four hours at a Women’s Institute party after Claire dared to make a slightly off-colour joke.

  Even after thirty-five years, the look still frustrated Claire mildly, but she’d learned to find the humour in how polar opposite she and her mother were when it came to levels of filter. Once they were alone, the look nearly always dropped with a hefty sigh and a pointed ‘why did you have to say that?’

  Claire could cope with that.

  Laughing it off was easy enough.

  Seeing that look when they were alone and knowing she hadn’t caused it with an ill-timed joke about Boris Johnson walking into a Berlin bar was a different beast entirely.