by Agatha Frost
They ventured into the sea of villagers who had come out to witness the tradition. Children held out fizzing sparklers, and their parents ate jacket potatoes that had been cooked in the fire. As was custom, Guy Fawkes’ giant effigy burned brightly at the top of the blaze. Even from a hundred feet away, the heat from the fire was something to behold.
“There you losers are!” a familiar voice called from behind them. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
Roxy and Violet, both wrapped-up in thick woolly layers, appeared behind them. Violet was licking a treacle lollypop, her eyes firmly fixed on the giant furnace.
“I thought this wasn’t your scene?” Leah asked.
“Violet wanted to come and see it.” Roxy rolled her eyes as she nodded at her girlfriend. “We were on holiday this time last year. The whole concept of Bonfire Night boggles her mind.”
“You celebrate ancient terrorist who tried to blow up your government building!” Violet cried in her thick accent, a grin spreading across her pale, beautiful face. “If I did not know better, I’d think this was Russian tradition!”
“We don’t celebrate him, as such,” Barker said, shivering as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “And he wasn’t just one man; he was part of a group of eight Catholic men who wanted to blow up the Houses of Parliament to assassinate King James The First, who was a Protestant. It was an act of treason.”
“So, they wanted to shoot the king?” Violet asked, still mesmerised by the fire. “With thirty-six guns?”
“Thirty-six barrels of gunpowder,” Barker corrected her. “They had been stored under Parliament, and the assassins wanted to set them on fire when they knew the king was going to be there. Think a 1605 version of a giant bomb. It wasn’t even Guy Fawkes’ idea, but he was the gunpowder expert and the guy who was caught red-handed before they had the chance to blow anything up. Bonfires started all over the country as a celebration that the king was alive. The following year, it became an official public day of thanksgiving, and we’ve kept it up for four hundred years. I don’t really know why, it’s just something we do.”
“It’s an excuse to build a giant fire and set off fireworks,” Roxy said. “Who knew you were such a geek?”
“He’s not just a pretty face.” Julia mushed his cheeks with her hands. “Brains, too.”
“I love your silly British traditions,” Violet chuckled as she looked down at her lollypop. “But treacle toffee tastes like old feet.”
They basked in the warmth of the fire while Barker spent the next fifteen minutes talking about how the entire country would have been very different if the Gunpowder Plot had succeeded. Julia’s interest in history was limited but seeing Barker’s face light up as he spoke warmed her more than the fire. Even though Roxy and Leah kept letting out yawns, Johnny and Violet listened to every word.
Julia tried to follow along, but her mind wandered, as did her eyes. She scanned the familiar faces in the crowd. People smiled and nodded at her, and even though she received a few questionable expressions, being in public wasn’t as bad as she had expected. She felt safe behind her many layers of clothing, with her fiancé and friends to accompany her.
She glanced at the jacket potato stall and let out a yawn; a moment later, she heard a man shouting. She almost paid it no attention, until she saw that the shouting man was gripping a tiny woman’s arm. Even though Julia could only see the back of the woman’s wiry hair and long coat, she recognised Flora.
“I’ll grab us some potatoes,” Julia said as she broke away. “I won’t be long.”
She weaved through the crowd and reached the stall just as Flora broke away from the man’s grip. She bumped into Julia and fell back onto the ground, a foil-wrapped potato falling out of her hand and rolling onto the grass.
“Is everything okay here?” Julia asked as she helped Flora up.
“No, it’s not!” the man cried, his face turning bright red. He snatched up the potato. “That old biddy just tried nicking one of my spuds!”
“I thought they were free,” Flora muttered, her eyes on the ground. “I didn’t know.”
“Can’t you read the sign?” The man jabbed his finger on a piece of cardboard. “£1.99 per spud, or three for £5. There’s no five-finger discount here!”
Julia rested her hand on Flora’s arm as she looked down at her. From the way Flora was avoiding her gaze, Julia knew she had tried to steal the potato, but she wasn’t going to hand Flora to the wolves; like Julia, she had been through enough.
“I’m sure it was an honest mistake.” Julia gave the man a stern look. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll take seven jacket potatoes, please.”
The man scowled at Flora, but he reluctantly loaded the bonfire-cooked spuds with butter. Julia handed over the money, and he passed over the food. With Flora’s help, they walked back to the group and handed them out.
“You remember Flora, don’t you, Barker?” Julia said, ushering Flora into the group.
“Five sugars,” Barker nodded. “Nice to see you again.”
Flora smiled but barely looked up at the group. They all watched, jaws agape, as she devoured her potato as though she hadn’t eaten in months.
“Thank you,” Flora said, wiping her buttery lips with the back of her fingerless-gloved hand. “I won’t intrude.”
Flora turned and scurried away, but Julia wasn’t about to let her leave without an explanation. She handed her potato to Barker and ran after the tiny, nimble woman, taking them around the fire and towards the edge of Haworth Forest.
“Flora!” Julia cried. “Wait!”
Flora stopped in her tracks and glanced over her shoulder. She looked as though she wanted to continue her escape, but she turned and walked up to Julia instead.
“Is everything okay?” Julia asked softly. “What happened back there at the potato stall?”
“I didn’t see the sign,” Flora mumbled. “Like you said, honest mistake.”
Julia sighed, but she knew she wasn’t going to get a truthful answer from the strange lady. She wanted to know why someone in their seventies would need to steal food, but she didn’t want to offend her. It looked like it wouldn’t take a lot to push her over the edge.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you about what happened at the meeting this morning,” Julia started. “I’m really sorry that happened to you. It mustn’t have been nice.”
“I was going to quit anyway.” Flora shrugged before wiping her glistening nose with her glove. “It was never going to be the same without Gloria. None of them liked me, because I liked Gloria.”
“I wanted to ask you more about her,” Julia said, glad the dead choirmaster had come up in conversation. “I don’t really know anything about her, aside from her role in the choir and that she used to be a music teacher at the primary school.”
“Gloria never liked children.” Flora pursed her lips. “She always said they were the spawn of the devil. I think that’s why she never had any. It didn’t mean she didn’t have a big heart, though. She did, but in other ways. She always looked after me.”
“How so?”
“Little ways.” Flora shrugged, as though not wanting to reveal the intricacies of their relationship. “She was an only child, and her parents died years ago, so it was just her and me. We met in the post office in 1983. I was short a penny for a bottle of milk, and she made up the difference. Not many people would do that, you know? She told me about the choir, so I joined. I didn’t care about the singing, I just liked having her as a friend. I didn’t have any friends growing up. The kids at school called me Freaky Flora. Gloria was right about children. They’re so cruel. She was never cruel to me. It wasn’t her fault that the other choir members were jealous of her.”
“Don’t you have any family?” Julia asked, her heart breaking. “Brothers and sisters?”
“A brother. Timothy. We’re not close. My father died when we were little, and my mother couldn’t cope. They sent her to the nut house. They didn’t tre
at you right back then. They didn’t help you; they pumped you full of pills and zapped your brain. She was never the same after that. I woke up one morning, and she just wasn’t there. I think Timothy blamed me because I was the older one. We haven’t spoken in years. It’s just been Gloria and me. She was all I needed. She was my family, and now she’s gone, and it’s all my fault!”
Flora covered her face with her gloves and began to sob. Julia knew Flora didn’t like being touched, but she couldn’t help herself. She pulled Flora into a hug.
“Why’s it your fault?” she asked when Flora finally stopped crying.
“I should have known something like this would happen,” Flora blubbered. “I should have protected her like she protected me for all those years. In her hour of need, all I could do was stand by and watch her die.”
“There was nothing any of us could have done,” Julia reassured her. “Can you think of any other reason anyone would want to kill Gloria? Did she have any connections or history with the other members?”
Flora thought for a minute as she wiped away her tears.
“There’s Percy,” she said. “She and Percy had a thing about a decade ago. It didn’t go anywhere. It fizzled out before it really started. I think him being so much older than she put her off.”
“Percy Cropper?”
“They met at a magic show,” Flora explained. “Percy used to put on shows. He wasn’t very good, but Gloria thought he was funny. He charmed her. They only went on a couple of dates. She said he never put his hand in his pocket to pay for anything. She assumed he was using her.”
As Julia’s thoughts turned to Percy, the fireworks display began with a giant rocket exploding in the sky behind her. The bang made her jump, and she spun around to look up as red sparks scattered across the black canvas above. She watched two more fireworks pop and fizzle. When she turned back to Flora, she was gone.
Julia scanned the motionless, observing crowd, but she couldn’t see the tiny woman anywhere. She even looked at the edge of the forest, but the darkness claimed everything beyond the first row of trees.
“There you are!” Barker called to Julia when she returned, his eyes still firmly on the sky. “Where’ve you been?”
“Talking to Flora,” Julia said as she continued to look around the crowd. “She just vanished.”
“Well, she is a little freaky,” Barker said.
“Don’t say that.” A lump rose in Julia’s throat. “She’s harmless.”
She looped her arm through Barker’s and watched the impressive display. A never-ending stream of fireworks of every colour and size erupted above the village, the bangs echoing for miles around. After the last impressive shower of colour, the crowd applauded and cheered. From memory, Julia knew the festivities continued late into the night, with the teenagers and young adults sticking around until the early hours. It was something she had done with Roxy, Johnny, and Leah in their youth, but she wasn’t about to replay that old tape tonight.
After saying their goodbyes, Julia and Barker hopped over the wall and walked back down the lane hand in hand. She wanted nothing more than to go home, get into her pyjamas, and relax, even if her mind was still firmly fixed on Gloria and everything Flora had told her. She almost talked it through with Barker, but she held back, deciding that she wanted to talk to Percy to get a different perspective on Gloria’s life.
“Thank you for getting me out tonight,” Julia said when they were unravelling their layers back at their warm cottage. “Only a couple of people looked at me like I had two heads.”
“They have short memories around here,” Barker assured her. “They’ll forget all about it when the next thing comes along. And then we can have another wedding, and everything will be as it should.”
“You still want another wedding?”
“Don’t you?”
“After how the last one turned out,” Julia said as she kicked off her shoes, “it feels like tempting fate to go through that again.”
“Lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place.” Barker helped her out of her coat and hung it up on the hat stand beside his. “Everything will be fine.”
Julia smiled and nodded, even though she felt far from fine. Barker shut himself in the dining room to reply to work emails, leaving Julia to retreat to the sitting room with her notepad. Mowgli curled up on her lap as she scribbled down everything Flora had told her about Gloria on a fresh page. None of it felt important, but she didn’t want to dismiss any information, considering how little she had to work with.
Flipping back to her list of suspects, she added: “Percy Cropper: Former Love Interest” next to Rita and Skye without thinking twice about it. It felt like a betrayal against her gran, but she knew very little about the man who was stealing her gran’s heart. Before she discounted him, she needed to talk to him and find out what he knew.
As she stared at her notes, she realised she had yet to talk to Skye. She glanced at her phone and considered texting Alfie to ask if he’d found anything out, but Mowgli was comfortable, and she didn’t want to disrupt him.
Instead, she picked up the remote from the chair arm and turned on the television, which was playing an episode of a baking competition show. Watching the bakers sweat over their creations made her realise how much she was missing her café, but before she could dwell on it for too long, her eyelids fluttered, and her mind slipped away.
Chapter Eight
“Are you sure you don’t want to do something bigger for your birthday?” Julia asked as she fastened Barker’s tie in their bedroom the next night. “You don’t turn forty every day.”
“After the surprise party you threw me last year and everything that has happened so far this week, I’m more than happy having a quiet meal at The Comfy Corner.” Barker stepped back and assessed his shirt and tie in the mirror. “Why did Jessie have to buy me a pink shirt?”
“She knew you’d wear it because you care about her.” Julia dusted along his shoulders. “And teenagers are mean like that.”
“Do I look silly?”
She tilted her head and took the vibrant colour in.
“No.”
“Does it suit me?”
She tilted her head again.
“No.”
“I much prefer your present.” He tugged at the tight collar as though he feared the shirt was growing into his skin. “A box of monogrammed, leather-bound notepads is a writer’s dream. I might need them to scrap and restart my second novel if the publishers hate what I handed in last week. I worked my backside off finishing that first draft, and they haven’t made a peep.”
“When do I get to read it?” Julia fixed her diamond studs in her ears. “Or find out what it’s about, for that matter?”
“When I’m sure it isn’t entirely awful.” Barker sighed as he fiddled with his waxed hair in the mirror. “So, never?”
“I’m sure it’s perfect. If it’s anything like your first book, it’s going to be another runaway smash.” Julia tiptoed and kissed him on the cheek. “Now, enough doubt for today. It’s your birthday!”
“Doubt and worry seem to be my permanent setting since I ditched the police force and dove into writing fulltime.” Barker spritzed aftershave on his neck before helping Julia with her necklace. “Although, I don’t envy DI Christie with this case. Arsenic poisoning is nasty business. It’s almost impossible to trace because it’s so hard to buy. Unless they stumble on a signed confession, they’re going to have a tough time proving how she was fed the lethal dose.”
They slipped into their shoes and joined Jessie, who was waiting by the door, her face buried in her phone. She wore high-waisted blue jeans with a baggy black band t-shirt tucked in. A short, studded leather jacket and wedged heel boots completed the outfit. It was a simple look she had worn more than once, but seeing her waiting by the door, a handbag slung over her shoulder, made her look so grown-up.
“What are you looking at, cake lady?” Jessie asked without glancing away
from her phone. “I can feel your beady eyes staring at me.”
“I just think you look pretty, that’s all,” Julia said as she reached around Jessie to grab her pink pea coat from the hat stand. “Or is that not allowed?”
“Whatever.” Jessie pushed her phone into her pocket and grabbed her keys from the dish on the side table. “I’ll drive. That way, you can both have a drink.”
“I thought you’d want to have a drink, being the eighteen-year-old.” Barker brushed down his shirt. “We could head to a rave after the meal and show off my new shirt. I have a theory that if it gets under a black light, it’s going to glow like a neon sign.”
“When did you get so uncool, Barker?” Jessie rolled her eyes.
“About sixteen hours ago when I ceased to be in my thirties?” he said after checking his watch. “But thanks to your excellent fashion pick, people will see me coming through a fog on a dark night. That’s pretty cool, right?”
Jessie laughed and shook her head as she opened the door. She shooed them out into the night before locking the cottage behind them. They climbed into Jessie’s yellow Mini Cooper, which had been a gift from Barker for Jessie’s eighteenth birthday.
Julia was rarely a passenger in Jessie’s car. Not because Jessie didn’t like driving, but because Jessie loved driving a little too much, and Julia never felt quite safe. No matter how many times Jessie insisted she had passed her test, her knowledge of clutch control, gears, and breaking seemed to contradict the result. Julia and Barker speculated that the driving school only passed Jessie because it was her eighth attempt and they were sick and tired of seeing her.
“Just ease it in!” Barker cried as they attempted to manoeuvre into a space outside The Comfy Corner. “I said, ease! Are you in first?”
“No!” Jessie cried. “Third!”
“Why are you trying to park in third?” Barker yelled back, almost throwing himself into the front seat. “First! You always park in first!”