by Agatha Frost
“Are you about to tell us you’re going to have a baby?” Sue asked. “I don’t think science is quite there yet.”
“Close!” said Percy.
Sue and Julia glanced at each other with the same trepidation.
“How close?” Julia asked.
“Well.” Dot paused to inhale deeply. “We’ve decided we’re getting . . . a dog!”
Percy’s grin didn’t falter, but Dot’s smile dragged her brows down over her eyes as it turned into a frown.
“What?” she demanded, picking up her soup spoon. “Is that it? No reaction? Aren’t you happy for us?”
“Of course we are,” Sue said with a laugh. “It’s just . . . you know what, never mind. We’re happy for you. Aren’t we?”
“Over the moon,” Julia agreed.
“Not exciting enough for you?” Dot grumbled in her throat. “I’ll remember that the next time one of you tells me you’re expecting again.”
They slurped their soup for a few minutes, the soft jazz filling the awkward space left behind by the lack of conversation.
“I always wanted a dog,” Katie finally said. “My father would never allow it in the manor, but I guess he’s not here anymore.”
“And you don’t live in a manor anymore,” Sue pointed out.
“What breed of dog, Gran?” Julia asked loudly, not wanting to go down the route of talking about the manor with Katie; the longer it took to sell, the more she seemed to struggle to let it go. “Had any thoughts?”
“A few!” Dot hurried to the sideboard, her enthusiasm back. She pulled a folder from the cupboard and opened it. “We’re going to adopt, of course. There are puppy farms dotted all over the place, but we watched a documentary about them. Didn’t we, Percy?”
“Oh, horrible places!” he agreed as he scraped the last of his soup from the bottom of his bowl. “Much kinder not to feed into that industry.”
“We’ve narrowed it down,” Dot said, slapping a stack of paper on the table, “to thirty.”
“Thirty?” Julia and Sue said in unison.
“We have to be sure,” Dot insisted, lowering herself into her chair. “It has to be the right dog for us. We can’t be having one of those excitable giant things dragging us around the village. Could you imagine? I’ve gone this long, touch wood” – she tapped the table – “without breaking a hip.” She spread out the papers. “Since you’re all here, you can help me narrow down the list. We have an appointment between Christmas and New Year’s Day to pick one up.”
After riffling through the printouts and looking at the pictures of cute dogs for ten minutes, Julia slipped out of the room when Dot went to check on the gammon joint roasting in the oven. Alone in the front sitting room, she peeled back the lacy net curtains and put her phone to her ear. Even though the Christmas market would still be open for a few more hours, the café beyond it was dark, as was the flat above the post office.
“Hello?” Jessie said on the other end.
“Jessie, where are—”
“Ah, gotcha!” she cried. “You totally spoke just then thinking I answered, didn’t you? Whoever you are, I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. I’m probably doing something really, really interesting, or my phone is on silent. Sorry, Mum.” Julia smiled. “Leave a message after the beep, and I might get back to you. Depends on who you are. BEEEEP. Not that beep. That was just me saying ‘beep’. Here’s the actual beep . . . now.”
The phone beeped, and Julia inhaled, unsure what to say. The cheerfulness in Jessie’s voice from the recording was a stark reminder of how different she had been lately.
“Jessie, it’s Mum,” she said as lightly as she could, letting the curtain fall. “I hope everything is alright. Missing you at Dot’s. She made soup, and she’s getting a dog.” She let out a small laugh. All the things she wanted to say were on the tip of her tongue – and none were suitable for a voicemail message. “Give me a call when you get this. Or come round. I’ll be home soon. I . . . I love you.”
She hung up, and a soft knock at the door pulled her back from the window. Katie popped her head in before entering.
“Narrowed it down to twenty-two so far,” she said, closing the door behind her. “Sue’s reading a list of dogs suitable for old people, and it turns out none of Dot’s selections are on there.”
“Typical. I’ll be back in a second. I just need a moment.”
“Is it about Jessie?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“A little.” Katie perched on the edge of the floral sofa and patted the seat next to her. “Listen, I shouldn’t be saying anything at all, but I can see whatever you’re thinking about is chewing you up. I can’t stand by and let you worry like this, especially in your condition.”
“Do you know anything?”
“I can’t tell you.” Katie bit into her plump, pink-tinted lip. “I promised.”
“Promised who?”
“Jessie.”
“Katie, if you know what’s—”
“She confided something in me last week,” she cut in, her girlish voice higher and faster than usual. “If I told you what she told me, it would break her trust, and I think I’ve only just gained it. I know I won’t be working at the café forever, but I’ve really been getting the hang of things, and . . . I’ve really been enjoying it. Gives me something to do while I build up my nail clientele. She’s been teaching me everything, and we’re getting closer. I know it’s a little silly for her to think of me as her grandmother because I’m nowhere near old enough.” She tossed her peroxide curls over her shoulder; it was true – she and Julia were the same age. “But she’s family. Jessie and I are the outsiders, and—”
“You’re not outsiders,” Julia said, resting a hand on her knee. “Not anymore.”
“And I appreciate that,” she said with a smile, “but that’s how it feels sometimes. Not that long ago, Dot wouldn’t even have invited me today. You lot have these memories that go all the way back, and sometimes I sit there and laugh along and feel like I’m on the outside looking in. And I know Jessie feels like that too.”
“Is that what she told you?”
Katie nodded. “One of the things. I could tell she was having a bad day, and she tried avoiding me, but I put my foot down. I did her nails in the café, and we talked. And she specifically told me not to tell anyone, especially you or Barker. I know that can’t be easy to hear, but she’s figuring stuff out, and sometimes you need to do that alone.”
“But she’s my daughter. I need to know.”
“If Vinnie confided in you,” Katie said, her smile softening, “when he’s older, of course, and asked you not to tell me, would you?”
Julia inhaled deeply, the moral dilemma not one she wanted to think about right now.
“If I thought he was in trouble, I would.”
“She’s not in trouble.”
“And the blackmail?”
“What blackmail?” Katie’s frozen brows struggled into a look of confusion. “I don’t know anything about any blackmail.”
“Then what did she tell you?” Julia exhaled. “Please, Katie. I’m worried. I think Lynn was blackmailing her for something. Maybe it’s the thing you know, or something worse, but if I knew what it was, then I could—”
“She’s an adult, Julia,” Katie reminded her with unexpected firmness. “She’ll be twenty in six months, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders. If she’s not telling you something, you can’t force it out of her. She probably has good reason. Just trust her.”
Words of objection formed in Julia’s throat, but she forced her mouth shut to allow her brain to think. Since first meeting Jessie as a sixteen-year-old girl, she’d trusted her. Sometimes that trust was misguided, but most often it was not. She’d given her the reins, as it were, after a life spent unable to control nearly every decision that affected her. Yet, the trust didn’t stop Julia from worrying. Lately, with a body full of hormones and a mind full of uneasiness ab
out the changing future, her protective instinct had kicked up a notch or three.
“You’re right,” she said, letting go of tension in her jaw she didn’t realise she’d been holding. “I just worry about her.”
“Being a mother, eh?” Katie giggled. “Who knew it would feel like this? Maybe Dot is onto something, getting a dog.”
Julia pointed to her bump, and with a genuine laugh this time, said, “It’s a little too late for that.”
“Good point.”
“Thank you, Katie.” Julia gave her a hug. “I needed to hear that.”
In the dining room, the papers lay ripped into shreds in the middle of the table. Dot and Sue were huddled around a tablet computer while Percy flicked through The Peridale Post’s latest issue. She’d seen the headline in the café that morning: BODY AT THE BOOK CLUB! She imagined her good friend Johnny, the editor, got a kick out of writing that one.
“Any luck?” Julia asked.
“Turns out I’m too old for most dogs.” Dot lobbed such a derisive expression in Sue’s direction that she’d be as dead as Lynn if looks were as strong as poison. “All the age-appropriate dogs look like teddy bears.”
“Remember your hips.”
“How about a cat?” Percy suggested as he picked up a pen to start the crossword. “Or we could start with a fish? Or some stick insects?”
“If you’re going in that direction, you might as well get some sea monkeys, or maybe just settle for a plant,” Sue said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Julia, aren’t your antenatal classes on Tuesday nights?”
“Oh, bugger!” Julia cried, jumping up as soon as she sat down. “I’m ten minutes late.”
“They run for an hour,” Sue reminded her.
“I don’t see the point, myself.” Dot fluffed up her curls. “A bunch of women heavy panting in a circle deluding themselves they can breathe their way through childbirth. Back in my day, you pushed the thing out and didn’t make such a fuss.”
“They’re actually really helpful,” Julia said. “I should go. I missed half of last week’s too. Fell asleep in the bath.”
“Then if you catch the end of this one, it’s almost a full class,” Katie said, with no hint of joking. “I enjoyed mine. Was nice to see I wasn’t the only person the size of a house.”
“Gran, thanks for the soup, but I’ll have to—”
“The gammon!”
Leaving Dot to scramble for the kitchen, Julia circled the table and kissed cheeks before wrapping up warm and leaving. She hurried past the sweet and spicy festive scents floating from the food and craft stalls of the market as quickly as her frame would allow. To her surprise, her fellow pregnant classmates were toddling out the church gates and not through them. The village hall next to St. Peter’s Church was closed, the lights already off.
“What’s happened?” she asked. “Has the time changed?”
“It’s Stacey,” one replied without stopping to talk. “She’s not well.”
Julia was about to follow them out when the all too familiar sound of someone throwing up led her to the bushes in front of the hall. She found Stacey doubled over, her black hair hanging over her face as she heaved in the grass. Julia pulled the nurse’s hair away and rubbed her back.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Thanks. I feel rough.”
“Not been poisoned, have you?”
“I don’t think so,” she said with a laugh, wiping her lips as she straightened. “I’m pregnant.”
“Pregnant?”
“Only six weeks,” she whispered. “I’m not telling people yet, but you were only going to put two and two together.”
“I’m so happy for you!” When Stacey didn’t smile, Julia added, “Should I be happy for you?”
“Yeah,” she said unconvincingly as she tucked her hair behind her ears. “It’s just a shock. I wasn’t expecting it. Only found out a fortnight ago. Timing isn’t great.”
Julia wasn’t sure if Stacey meant what was going on with her father, Lynn, or something else entirely.
“Have you told your mother yet?”
“Oh, don’t.” Stacey rested a hand on her stomach. “I can’t be dealing with her right now. She’ll only get overbearing. Every time I have anything going on, she wants to be at the centre of it.”
Julia bit her tongue. For months, she’d heard Stacey’s complaints out of context. Now that she’d spoken to Debra – and given her own recent turmoil with Jessie – Julia saw a daughter pushing her mother away, and a mother trying her hardest to win her child back.
“Has Kerry called you about the book club yet?” Stacey asked.
“No?”
“She wants to have an emergency meeting at her place tomorrow to discuss what we’re doing going forward. Bit soon, don’t you think?”
As off as the timing was, it would give Julia the perfect opportunity to both talk to Kerry and have everyone in the same room again. She hadn’t seen Kerry or Jade since the police arrived at the café on Sunday and everyone scattered.
“Police woke me up at the crack of dawn to question me,” Stacey revealed. “Did they do the same to you?”
“I went in this morning to give a statement,” she said. “I take it you’ve heard about the teapot?”
Stacey nodded. “They’re saying it’s murder. Acted like one of us did it.”
“It’s looking that way.”
“You believe that?” She arched a brow as they set off towards the church gates. “Bit far-fetched, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” she said uncertainly. “Turns out Lynn was open to extorting people. I don’t suppose she had anything to blackmail you with?”
Stacey’s eyes widened, but she didn’t turn to look at Julia. Instead, she reflexively tucked her hair behind her ears even though it was already there.
“Nope,” she said, frowning.
Watching Stacey’s small black car drive away, Julia wondered how serious the blackmail would have to be to push someone to murder. Despite the nurse’s verbal denial, Julia couldn’t help but feel like she’d just been lied to.
Deep down, she didn’t think Stacey could be capable of murder.
But how long had she actually known her?
She pulled her notepad from her bag and scribbled a quick question mark next to Stacey’s name.
6
Barker
Barker pulled up next to a police car at Fern Moore. His phone vibrated in his trouser pockets, a text message from Julia. He had forgotten all about the antenatal classes and would have rushed straight there if Stacey hadn’t called it off. While he had his phone in his hand, he set a reminder so as not to forget next week.
He’d spent the afternoon searching for Jade Tan. Julia admitted she didn’t know much about her, so he’d taken it upon himself to seek her out. He’d started at the doctor’s surgery, but she wasn’t scheduled for the day and, as per the law, they wouldn’t reveal where she lived. When he’d been ready to give up, he popped his head into Trotter’s Books again, and even though Debra didn’t know the flat number the young receptionist lived in, she did know Jade lived out at the estate.
He slammed the car door and pulled up the collar of his coat. The sun had long since set, leaving the air even bitterer than it had been during the day. Still, that didn’t stop Fern Moore’s gangs from roaming around the concrete courtyard.
He figured the gangs were his best shot at finding out where Jade lived. Outside the brightly lit mini supermarket, the older of the two gangs drank cans of cheap ale as fast-paced music boomed from one of their phones. Despite appearing at least twenty-five and older, they still dressed like teens in their tracksuits and peaked caps. He recognised most of them from his policing days, and no doubt they remembered his face from across the interview table.
Barker opted to approach the younger gang, who were using the wooden playpark and its surrounding fixtures as a makeshift skatepark. Most vaped billowing clouds of scented smoke from atop their boards and bikes, and Barker
wouldn’t have put any of them older than their late teens.
“Twenty quid to whoever can point me in the direction of a woman by the name of Jade Tan,” he said, the shiny purple note already in his hand.
“You don’t look like one of them,” one boy said from his bike, giving Barker a beady-eyed look, “but double it, and I’ll tell you exactly where she is.”
One of them?
“I’ll tell you for twenty,” another said as he rolled up on his board, hand already out.
Barker passed him the note, which he screwed up and stowed in one of his thin jacket’s zip-up pockets.
“Down there,” he said, jerking his head towards a dark walkway built into the foundations of the left tower. “She always is at this time of night.”
Barker tipped his head in thanks and set off with his hands deep in his pockets. More kids were spray-painting the walls of the covered pathway through the estate. They glared at Barker from the corners of their eyes but didn’t stop their vandalism. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and they probably thought he was the police. Even if he still were, he wouldn’t have stopped them. The graffiti always reappeared as soon as it was removed, and some of it was actually quite good.
As promised, he found Jade Tan in one corner of the alley, bundled up in a long coat and wearing a cream turtleneck pulled up to her chin beneath it. She clutched the straps of a small black backpack, holding it tight to her shoulder blades.
“Jade?” he prompted.
“It’s twenty for one,” she said, barely looking at him as she released the straps and let the bag fall across her back. “I’m doing a special of two for thirty. Take it or leave it. Those are the prices.”
“I’ll take one,” he said, playing along.
“Money first.”
Barker pulled out another twenty-pound note, glad he hadn’t doubled his offer earlier. He only had small change left, and doubted she accepted cards for whatever she was selling.
Jade swung the bag around and unzipped it close to her body. To Barker’s surprise, she pulled out a doctor’s prescription pad and a pen – a fountain pen, at that. Blank prescriptions with forged doctor’s signatures had been an issue even before he’d joined the Peridale station. They’d never pinned down the culprits.