by Agatha Frost
“I’ve been waiting at the station for you!” Jessie whacked her clutch bag down on the counter. “I was worried sick! I thought you’d run away.”
“That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right now.” Julia pulled off her veil and began to pluck the masses of pins Sue had used out of her hair. “We didn’t mean to worry you. We needed some alone time to come to terms with not becoming husband and wife.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jessie offered as she scratched the back of her neck. “I have no idea what to say. Why don’t I help you get out of that dress?”
Julia nodded. She looked down at her once perfect dress. The hem was muddy and frayed from the rain, and chocolate crumbs spattered the bodice. It reminded her of the blood splatters on Father David’s white robes. She wanted her earlier euphoria to return, but she doubted this—or any other—dress would arouse such a feeling in her again.
In the bathroom, Jessie unlaced the corset and helped Julia wriggle out of the garment. Leaving Julia in her underwear, Jessie whisked the dress away and returned with a set of fluffy pink pyjamas. Without asking if she wanted one, Jessie pulled the shower curtain across the bathtub and turned on the hot water. She kissed Julia on the cheek before slipping out.
Julia stared at herself in the mirror. Her perfect makeup had run and faded, and her intricate hair hung awkwardly around her face. After stripping off her underwear, she climbed into the shower. She stood directly under the water and let its sizzling heat wash away the day.
Instead of this being the happiest day of her life, she felt only numb.
Time ground to a halt and each second felt like an hour passing. She stood under the water, hugging her body and shivering despite the heat for what felt like a lifetime. She remained unmoving until the hot water ran cold, and, even then, she didn’t immediately move. It wasn’t until a voice in the back of her mind said, “what are you doing, Julia?” that she cut off the water and climbed out.
As she dried off, voices drifted under the door. At first, she assumed Jessie and Barker were chatting, but she quickly realised the noise was coming from more than two sources. With her wet hair pulled back into a ponytail, she climbed into her pyjamas and finally left the bathroom. She was surprised to see her entire family filling the sitting room.
“Here she is!” Dot jumped up, a glass of champagne in her hand, still wearing her outfit and hat from earlier. “I was about to come and check that you hadn’t drowned in there.”
“What’s all this?” Julia asked, hugging her body, feeling exposed in front of her full house.
“It seemed a shame to waste all the food from the reception,” Sue said, holding up a paper plate. “It was all made, so we decided to bring it up here to keep you company.”
“Or take your mind off things,” her father jumped in.
“You shouldn’t be alone at a time like this,” Katie added, bouncing Vinnie up and down on her knee. “You need your family here with you.”
“And don’t worry about this being in bad taste,” Dot mumbled through a mouthful of a sandwich. “I know we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but Gloria was a piece of work. Very few tears will be shed over her tonight.”
“Gran!” Sue cried. “Time and place.”
“I’m only saying!” Dot held up her hands. “It’s the truth! I’ve only been part of the choir for a month, and even I could see that she had made enemies of everyone. I wasn’t far off becoming one of them! Silly woman said I couldn’t keep pitch! Can you believe that? Me? I won Miss Singing Peridale 1953, I’ll have you know! My vocals moved the judges to tears. I could have been a recording artist. They said I had a voice for the radio!”
“Are you sure they didn’t say ‘face for radio’, mother?” Brian lifted his champagne flute and winked before turning to Julia. “If you want us to go, we’ll get out of your hair.”
Julia smiled her appreciation, even though all she really wanted to do was climb into bed and pretend the whole sorry day had been nothing more than a bad dream. Still, she was happy to see them. It wasn’t like she hadn’t planned to spend the day with them already.
“Stay,” Julia assured them, pushing forward a smile. “Enjoy the food.”
“Grab yourself something.” Dot wafted her hand towards the dining room. “It’s a fabulous spread! These tuna vol-au-vents are to die for!”
Leaving Dot to think about her poor choice of words, Julia walked into the dining room, where Barker was deep in conversation with his brother, Casper.
“You must have them!” Barker exclaimed, putting a hand to his forehead. “This is the last thing we need!”
Casper’s wife, Heather, a short, round woman with neat, roller-set grey curls, ushered Julia into the corner of the room.
“You poor thing.” Heather pulled Julia down into a tight hug. “My heart breaks for you. You’re so strong. How are you holding yourself together?”
“Barely.” Julia pulled away with a smile, her focus going straight back to the arguing men. “What’s happened?”
“The rings seem to have been misplaced.”
“Misplaced?” Barker roared. “Casper lost them! You have three jobs as a best man! Organise a stag party, give a speech that isn’t too embarrassing, and don’t lose the rings! Since I didn’t want a stag and you got out of the speech, where are the rings?”
“Don’t take that tone with me!” Casper roared back, his entire weight on his cane. “I told you! They were in my pocket, and now they’re gone. I haven’t reached for them since I put them there! In case you hadn’t noticed, there have been more important things going on!”
There was an almost thirty-year age gap between Barker and Casper. Their mother had Casper in her late teens, while she’d been in her forties when Barker was born. She’d have been Dot’s age if she was still alive, but she had died before reaching her eighties. Despite the age gap, Casper was the only one of Barker’s three brothers he was still close to. Casper and Heather had been a couple before Barker was born, and had acted as secondary parents to him throughout his life; something Barker had always appreciated, given he didn’t know who his father was.
“Don’t get yourself worked up, dear.” Heather reached out a hand. “It’s been a long day.”
Julia looked down at the engagement ring that hugged her finger. It upset her that the wedding band that should have been above it was now missing, but it felt like the tip of the wedding-related-problems iceberg.
“I’m sure they’ll show up,” Julia offered, sandwiching herself between the two men. “Casper, did you have the jacket on all day?”
“Yes!” he cried. “Well, I took it off in the church when we were waiting for the ambulance to turn up, but then I put it right back on when we left.”
“And did you check to see if the rings were still there?” she asked.
“Well, no.” Casper frowned. “I was too busy thinking about the dead woman on the floor.”
“Then they probably slipped out.” Julia smiled at him, hoping to calm him down. “And, if that’s the case, they’ll make their way back to us.”
“It still technically means he lost them,” Barker muttered under his breath.
“Not helping, Barker,” Heather called from the corner. “Why don’t we all just relax and eat some of this delicious-looking food? It’s been a long day for all of us. What will we gain from turning on each other? We should be grateful to be alive right now. Now, shake hands, and we’ll revisit the topic when the dust has settled.”
Casper huffed but held his hand out. Barker pretended not to notice, prompting Julia to slap him on the arm with the back of her hand. He puffed out his chest and pouted, but he shook his brother’s hand, if not a little reluctantly.
“I’m sorry,” Barker murmured. “I’m a little tired.”
“Some things never change.” Casper patted Barker on the cheek. “You always did come over cranky when you were tired, but considering everything else you’ve been through today, I won’t hold it again
st you.”
Heather gathered two plates of food before departing the room with Casper in tow. When they were alone, Julia and Barker hugged again. His exhaustion radiated against her. It gave her an odd comfort; he was the only person who was going through the same thing she was.
“DI Christie called when you were in the shower,” Barker said as he rested his head on hers. “He’s treating Gloria’s death as suspicious.”
“Murder?”
“He seems to think so.” Barker pulled away, his jaw clenching. “People don’t really just drop dead like that, do they?”
“Sometimes.” Julia sighed. “But I’d be lying if I thought that’s what happened.” She paused and cast an eye over the food, but eating was the last thing on her mind. “It happened so quickly. One second she was fine, and then she was choking on her own breath.”
Sue crept into the room with an empty plate. She smiled sympathetically at them as she piled up more food.
“This doesn’t mean you aren’t getting married.” Sue broke the silence as she grabbed a handful of cocktail sausages. “You could go to the register office tomorrow and do it. You wouldn’t even have to tell anyone.”
Julia had been so focussed on the ruined wedding that she hadn’t given a second attempt at a wedding a moment of her time. She considered it, but a niggling feeling in the back of her mind confirmed her feelings towards the idea.
“It wouldn’t feel right,” Julia said, clutching Barker’s hand. “At least, not until we know for sure what happened to Gloria.”
“I agree.” Barker squeezed her hand. “I want you to be my wife more than anything, but not like this. We need to start our marriage on the right foot.”
Sue rested her hand on her heart as she munched through a sausage and said, “You two are the cutest that ever were. Do I still get to be a bridesmaid at the next one?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Sue winked and left the room with her food. They weren’t alone for more than a couple of seconds before Dot shuffled in, with someone new accompanying her. Julia examined the tiny woman glued to Dot’s side. She was the choir member Julia had thought of as being impish, and the only one who had seemed concerned by Gloria’s coughing. She had sobbed by Gloria’s side until the ambulance arrived.
She appeared to be in her seventies and was as short as a child. Her wiry hair hung limply around her face, crying out for a good cut. She was swaddled in a large coat that drowned her petite frame, and an equally oversized, colourful scarf was wrapped around her neck right up to her chin. An overwhelming number of badges and pins cluttered the front of her coat, their enamel coatings catching the light.
“Julia, this is Flora,” Dot explained. “Flora Hill. She’s a member of the choir.”
“Been a member for thirty years,” Flora added as she dabbed at her tears with a lace handkerchief that contrasted against her black, fingerless gloves. “I hope you don’t mind me turning up like this.”
“Not at all.” Julia smiled at the woman, but Flora didn’t look up. Julia turned to Dot, who merely shrugged before leaving the room. “Barker, why don’t you make Mrs Hill a cup of tea?”
“Miss Hill,” she corrected after blowing her nose. “A cup of tea would be so kind. Plenty of milk and five sugars.”
“Five?” Barker echoed. Julia gave him a stern look and jerked her head to the door. “Okay, I’m going!”
Julia pulled two chairs from underneath the food-covered table and motioned for Flora to sit. Flora hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting around the room, and then at all the food.
“Do you mind?” Flora asked as she plucked out a sandwich. “I haven’t eaten today.”
“Help yourself.”
“Thank you.” Flora devoured the sandwich in a couple of mouthfuls before helping herself to a second. It reminded Julia of how Mowgli devoured turkey slices on Christmas Day. “I’m desperately sorry about what happened today. I never married. Never even got close. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now. You must be devastated.”
“That’s one word for it.”
Flora reached for another sandwich, and then another. She gobbled each down as fast as the last. Barker snuck in and placed the sugary tea next to her, which she gulped back without pausing for breath. Barker looked at Julia for an explanation, but all she could do was lift her shoulders in a half-shrug.
“What must you think of me!” Flora wafted her hanky around before dabbing at her eyes one final time. She jammed the handkerchief deep into her coat pocket. “I’m not myself right now. I’m in shock. Yes, that’s what it is. Shock. It must be.”
“It’s completely normal,” Julia said, resting her hand on Flora’s knee, which caused her to jerk back. Julia pulled her hand away, but Flora remained tense. “Were you close to Gloria?”
“She is my friend,” Flora said, her eyes widening as she stared at the patterns on the carpet. “Was my friend. My only friend. My best friend.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“How do I go on?” Flora’s eyes snapped onto Julia’s. “I can’t imagine life without her. I have no one. Gloria was my only companion in life. Well, there was William, but he died last month.”
“William?”
“My cat.” Flora’s tears flowed again. “William Shakespaw. He was a stray. I took him in as a kitten. Poor little ginger thing sat on my doorstep for days on end. I kept throwing him scraps. He kept coming back, and he never left. Vets said it was an achievement to get to eighteen, but no amount of time is enough.”
Julia’s lips parted but she didn’t know what to say to comfort the woman. She felt for Flora. Julia had taken Mowgli in as a stray and loved him like a child. Julia picked up another tray of sandwiches and offered them to the weeping woman. Flora plucked out two and gobbled them down in a flash.
“Thank you,” Flora said after letting out a small burp. “You’re too kind. You shouldn’t have to listen to me prattle on, but I had to see you. People said you were the only woman in Peridale capable of finding out the truth.”
“Oh, I don’t know about—”
“You’ve solved so many mysteries.” Flora dove forward and grabbed both of Julia’s hands in her scratchy gloves. “You must have a lead!”
“I haven’t really given it much thought yet.”
“Right.” Flora pulled her hands away and nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’m being presumptuous. Gloria always said that was my downfall. I’m too quick to lean on people. She said it was because my parents abandoned me as a child.” Flora retrieved her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “I should go. I shouldn’t have intruded.”
Flora stood up and headed for the door. A small part of Julia wanted to let the woman leave, but a bigger part knew she couldn’t.
“Flora, wait.” Julia ushered the tiny woman back to her seat. “You’re not intruding. Tell me about Gloria. You must be the person who knew her the best.”
“I was.” Flora nodded before blowing her nose again. “Nobody knew the real Gloria, except for me. She put up a front to the world. She was meticulous and exact, and that rubbed people the wrong way. People feel threatened when a woman knows what she wants. They called her bossy, but if she were a man, nobody would have batted an eyelid. They would have called her strong. Instead, they called her every name under the sun, but never to her face. Oh, never to her face! Always whispering behind her back. She knew, but she didn’t care. Great leaders don’t. She directed that choir for decades, and yet not a single one was ever grateful. It would have fallen to pieces dozens of times if she hadn’t been there. She was the glue that held them together. I bet they’re all partying as we speak, happy their leader is dead.”
“Do you think any of them had any reason to want Gloria dead?”
“Absolutely!” Flora tucked her hanky away, suddenly sitting up straight. “All of them had their run-ins with Gloria at least once, but none more than that dreadful woman, Rita Bishop!” She paused for breath, her li
ps curling. “Rita joined the choir five years ago, but she’s been gunning for Gloria’s position since the second she walked in. She thinks because she has a degree she’s qualified to lead. She’s a stuck-up snob if ever I’ve met one! She would argue that the sky was green until the cows came home! Gloria couldn’t make a single decision without Rita sticking her nose in. I often wondered why Rita stuck around when she obviously wasn’t wanted, but now I know. She’s been waiting for this day so she could muscle her way in. She was already talking about finding a new leader as they were carrying poor Gloria out of the church!” Flora paused for breath and grabbed Julia’s hands again. “You have to help me! Promise you’ll help.”
Julia didn’t feel comfortable promising such a thing to a woman so clearly distressed, but how could she refuse? If Gloria had dropped dead in the middle of anyone else’s wedding, Julia might have been able to step back and let the police figure it out, but it hadn’t been anyone else’s wedding; it had been hers.
“I can’t promise,” Julia said, her voice wobbling, “but I will try.”
“You will?” Flora cried. “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, Julia! I know you can do this. I have faith in you. I really will get out of your hair now. You’ve lifted my spirits.” Flora looked back at the table. “Do you mind if I take a sandwich for the road?”
“Let me grab you a box,” Julia replied with a smile. “We’ll never eat all this between us.”
Julia retrieved one of her cardboard cake boxes from the kitchen and watched Flora fill it to the brim with handfuls of everything she could reach.
“I know you can do this,” Flora said as she scurried into the night with half the buffet in her hands. “Thank you, Julia!”
Julia closed the front door and leaned against it, listening to her family chatter in the sitting room. She closed her eyes, waiting to wake up any moment. When she opened them, she was still firmly in her hallway.
“What did she want?” Dot asked when Julia walked into the sitting room. “She’s always been a freaky little woman.”