by Agatha Frost
“I know!” Jessie yanked the gear stick. “Why won’t it move?”
“Clutch!”
“Right.” Jessie put her foot down and put the car into first. “You’re stressing me out! I can do it fine when I’m on my own!”
The car jerked like a rollercoaster as Jessie attempted to fit her Mini into a space that would have been fine for a double-decker bus. She pulled up in the middle of the space in a diagonal line, and instead of straightening it up, she put it into neutral, yanked up the handbrake, and killed the engine. Barker looked like he was going to say something, so Julia rested her hand on his knee and shook her head. Leaving the car where Jessie had decided it belonged, they walked into the restaurant.
The Comfy Corner was the only place in Peridale that deserved to be called a real restaurant. The pub served food, as did Julia’s café during the day, but nowhere else had the homely atmosphere that the owners, Mary and Todd Porter, had created here. Newcomers often likened it to walking into an old friend’s home, which Julia had always thought was an apt description. It was also common knowledge in the village that The Comfy Corner had the best food in Peridale, if not the whole of the Cotswolds.
“Julia!” Mary greeted her with open arms. “You poor dear! Come here. Let me hug you.”
Mary was a curvy woman in her sixties, and, if gossiping were a sport, she would take the gold medal. Nothing got past her, and if you wanted somewhere to have a private conversation, you knew to stay away from The Comfy Corner. Despite being a one-woman rumour mill, she had a heart of gold and would give people the clothes off her back if they asked. She had known her husband, Todd, since childhood, and theirs was often the standard that most relationships in the village were compared to.
“I wanted to rush right over the moment I heard!” Mary pulled Julia in even tighter. “But you know I don’t get away from this place that often. It’s my baby. I did try to call, but the line was dead. Perhaps I have the wrong number?”
“We’ve had issues with the line,” Barker lied. “It should be fixed now.”
“Well, if there’s anything I can do for you, say the word.” Mary pulled away and cupped Julia’s face in her hands. “How about a bottle of wine on the house? The rest of your party are in the snug. I’ll bring through the bottle with some glasses.”
Leaving them to find their table, Mary scurried off to the bar. The restaurant had been a tavern centuries ago, and the snug was a separate room thought to have been a games room. Now, it was where Mary seated parties for privacy away from the rest of the restaurant. Casper and Heather were already seated at one end of the table, deep in conversation.
“Ah, here he is!” Heather clapped her hands together, startling Casper and making him spill a portion of his pint down his front. “The birthday boy! Finally forty! How do you feel?”
“The same.” Barker accepted a hug from Heather. “Should I feel different?”
“You will!” Heather cried as she took her seat. “I adored my forties. They were some of the best years of my life. I really came into being who I am. You spend your twenties lost, your thirties figuring yourself out, and your forties enjoying what you figured out in your thirties. And when you get there, you’re probably going to have a near mental breakdown when you reach your fifties, like your brother did.” Heather nodded at Casper. “But, in your sixties, life will slow down to a lovely pace. We’re both about to enter our seventies, so, in ten years, I’ll let you know how that goes.”
Casper half-stood up, using the table for support. He stared at Barker with narrowed eyes before jiggling his moustache.
“New shirt?” he asked, arching a brow.
“Birthday present off Jessie,” Barker explained, blushing as pink as his shirt. “I’m still trying to figure out how to wear it.”
Jessie gave a small snort while Casper grunted disapprovingly. They all took their seats around the table, with Julia choosing a seat with a view through the door to the rest of the restaurant. She noticed Mary hurrying around the bar with a stack of menus under one arm and a bottle of wine in her other hand.
“There you go!” She placed the wine in the middle of the table before passing out the menus. “We debuted our new festive menu yesterday, so feel free to dig in! I’d recommend the pigs in blankets pie or the turkey stuffing roast, but you can’t go wrong with anything my Todd is cooking. I’ll be back in a moment to take your orders.”
Julia stared blankly at the menu, but her mind was somewhere else entirely. She was thinking about one thing, and one thing only: arsenic. She had spent the whole day doing as much research as possible on the poison, and all she had concluded was that anyone could have slipped Gloria the lethal dose at any point on the morning of the wedding.
“I like the sound of the pigs in blankets pie,” Barker said to Julia, breaking her from her thoughts. “What are you getting?”
“Same.” She put the menu down and pushed forward a smile. “Sounds good to me.”
While Heather and Casper chatted about their plans for a holiday in the new year, Julia drifted back into her thoughts. She wished they had invited a couple more people so her mental absence wouldn’t be as noticeable. She tried her best to smile and nod when there were natural pauses in the conversation.
“This is on me,” Barker announced, “so order whatever you want. I’m getting my second royalty payment next week.”
“I really did enjoy your book, Barker,” Heather said as she scanned the menu. “I couldn’t believe you wrote it! And I mean that with love because it was very good! We talked about it in our book club. I didn’t mention that you were my brother-in-law until after we’d discussed it.”
“And?”
“Everyone loved it!” Heather exclaimed. “Even you read it, didn’t you, Casper?”
“It was my bathroom book,” he explained before sipping his pint. “You know I like to take my time.”
Mary entered the snug and made her way around the table to take orders. When she was finished, Julia’s mind slipped away again, this time back to her wedding day. She drifted away so much that when she reached out for her glass of wine, she missed completely, the side of her hand grazing against the damp glass. The cold sensation shocked her, and she jerked her hand, sending the glass flying at Barker. The white wine splashed against his pink shirt, darkening the fabric.
“Oh my!” Julia cried as she reached for her napkin. “I’m so sorry!”
Jessie snickered under her breath as Julia flapped at the stain with a tissue.
“It’s fine.” Barker rested his hand on hers and dabbed at it with his napkin. “You’ve somehow made it even pinker. I think I’ll need to dry it in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
Barker excused himself from the table, leaving Julia to finish mopping up the spilt wine. Her cheeks heated at her clumsy mistake. She hoped they hadn’t noticed how far away she had been from their conversation.
“Any luck finding the rings?” Heather asked quietly, leaning across the table. “I didn’t want to ask in front of Barker in case it hit a nerve again.”
“For the last time, I didn’t lose them!” Casper announced. “They were in my pocket, and then they weren’t. I had nothing to do with it!”
“I know, I know.” Heather patted him on the shoulder. “Julia?”
“Nothing yet.” She screwed up the napkins and placed them on the end of the table. “I was at the church yesterday morning. I meant to ask Father David, but he seemed lost in a world of his own.”
“They’ll turn up when you least expect it,” Heather said with a definite nod, “and in the place you least expect. Life has a funny way of working like that.”
Barker returned from the bathroom, his shirt somewhat dryer, but still stained. From the determined look on his face, Julia could tell he had something to tell her.
“You’ll never guess who I just saw in lover’s corner,” Barker whispered to her. “You said Rita Bishop had red curly hair, wore black turtlenecks, and was
about forty-five?”
“I did.”
“Then I think she’s here on a date with a man at least half her age.” Barker pulled himself under the table and poured himself a fresh glass of wine. “I recognised him from somewhere, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Oh.”
“If you’re going to have a look, you might want to hurry.” Barker glanced through the door and nodded at Mary. “I think they just asked for the bill.”
Julia watched as Mary punched some numbers into a calculator before scribbling on a piece of paper and slipping it into a leather wallet. Excusing herself from the table, Julia left the snug and followed behind Mary as she walked towards lover’s corner, where she always seated people she thought were on dates.
When Julia spotted the back of Rita’s head, she was surprised Barker had recognised her from her description. She was dressed as lavishly as she had been during the emergency choir meeting the day before, this time with a black fur shawl replacing the cardigan. The man she was with had white blond hair and fair skin and couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five. It took Julia a second to realise where she recognised him from.
While the man settled the bill, Rita pushed away from the table and walked towards the lady’s bathroom. Julia waited for a moment before following. She lingered by the sinks while Rita locked herself in a stall. When the toilet flushed, Julia turned on the tap and washed her hands.
The stall door opened, and Rita sauntered out with as much confidence and arrogance as she had radiated at the church. She positioned herself at the sink next to Julia and stared ahead at her reflection without giving Julia so much as a second glance. After washing her hands, Rita flicked the water from them, not seeming to care that she splashed Julia’s arms. She dragged two blue paper towels from the dispenser, dried her hands, and dropped the towels on the floor.
“Rita?” Julia called before the woman left the bathroom. “From the choir?”
“Yes?” Rita stared down at Julia, her red lipstick twisted into somewhat of a smile. “Can I help you?”
“I was at the meeting yesterday.” Julia grabbed a paper towel and dried her hands. “My gran is a member. Dot?”
“Ah, yes.” Rita nodded, arching a brow. “The new oldie. She can’t sing a lick, but she’s making up the numbers. The young fella she comes with has a fantastic voice though. I can’t wait to work with him. Alan, or something?”
“Alfie,” Julia corrected her. “He’s my daughter’s brother.”
“So, your son?”
“She’s adopted,” Julia explained. “There’s only a decade between Alfie and me.”
“Interesting.” Rita looked Julia up and down. “How modern. You look older. Your dress looks like it was pulled from an old war movie. Bizarre. Very bizarre, indeed.”
Julia could have said many things about Rita’s over-the-top outfit, but she bit her tongue. She wondered if the new choirmaster ever spoke without ladling out insults to everyone she encountered.
“I’m sorry about your friend’s death,” Julia said, choosing her words carefully.
“My friend?”
“Gloria.”
“Right.” Rita chuckled as she shifted her weight on her feet. “I wouldn’t exactly have called her a friend, but that’s life, isn’t it? You live, you die, the end.”
“I heard she was murdered.”
“She was?” Rita fanned a yawn out of her mouth as she checked her watch. “Is this going anywhere, dear?”
“It was during my wedding. You probably don’t recognise me in this … bizarre dress.”
“That was you?” Rita looked Julia up and down again and tittered. “You certainly scrubbed up well, didn’t you? You look like an entirely different person. Shame it ended the way it did. Is there a point to this little chat?”
Julia inhaled deeply, not wanting to rise to Rita’s bait. Did anyone ever dare to challenge the sizzling redhead about her attitude?
“Do you have any idea who would have wanted to kill Gloria?” Julia asked, folding her arms. “I heard it was one of the choir members.”
“You heard that, did you?” Rita rolled her eyes before narrowing them on Julia. “What did you say you did for a living?”
“I didn’t. I run the café in the village.”
“Oh, that little place.” Rita cocked her head to the side. “Bless you. I’ve never been in. Doesn’t look like my sort of establishment. Why are you so interested in Gloria’s death?”
“I’m just curious,” she lied.
Rita seemed to consider her thoughts for a moment, a smirk pricking up the corners of her lips. She shrugged, raising her brows as her smirk broke free.
“I will say this.” Rita turned to the mirror and fluffed up her hair before turning and pulling on the door. “These things have a habit of coming out when the dirty laundry is aired, and I shouldn’t think it will take too long for that to happen. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my son will be waiting for me.”
Rita left the bathroom. Julia screwed up her paper towels and tossed them into the bin before picking up the ones Rita had discarded on the floor. She turned to the mirror and stared at her 1940s-inspired teal dress.
“It’s not bizarre,” she said to herself with a firm nod. “I like it.”
She hurried back to her table. The food had been brought out, and everyone had already tucked in. Julia shuffled under the table and picked up her knife and fork.
“The blond guy she was with was Alec Bishop,” Julia whispered to Barker as she sliced into her pie. “He was the photographer and videographer we hired for the wedding.”
“That’s where I know him from!” Barker snapped his fingers. “He was floating around the B&B all morning taking pictures of everything. Did Rita give you anything?”
“I think she knows what happened to Gloria.” Julia wrinkled her nose as she replayed what Rita had said. “She made some weirdly-worded comment about dirty laundry being aired when I asked if she knew who would have wanted to kill Gloria.”
“Dirty laundry? What do you think she means by that?”
“I don’t know. Something.” Julia lifted the first mouthful of food to her lips, but she paused. “I need to figure out what she knows, and I have a feeling she isn’t the kind of lady who likes to share.”
“Maybe you could go through her son?” Barker mumbled through a mouthful of pie. “He might be easier to get through.”
“Was he at the wedding?”
“Yep,” Jessie butted in, leaning across the table. “I saw him at the side. He was taking pictures the whole time. You know you’re not whispering, right? I can hear every word you’re saying.”
Deciding to leave the topic until later, Julia tucked into her pie and focused on the meal at hand. They drained the free bottle of wine and ordered a second, and then a third. A birthday cake Julia had given to Heather to bring came out at the end, with forty candles decorating the top. Barker blew them out and then cut into the double chocolate fudge cake, which he proclaimed was the best she had ever made.
After paying the bill, they left the restaurant at nine. Casper and Heather were ready to leave Peridale and drive back home in their bright orange Volkswagen camper van.
“I do wish we could stay a little longer,” Heather said as she hugged Julia. “I hate that we’re leaving so soon after what happened.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Barker assured her. “We’ll be fine.”
“If we could afford to stick around, we would,” Casper explained as he hugged Barker with his free arm. “Evelyn is lovely, but her rooms are pricey, free tarot reading or not. Look after yourself, kiddo.”
Casper hobbled over to the van and climbed into the passenger seat. Heather went to follow but stopped and snapped her fingers.
“I almost forgot to give you this!” She reached into her handbag, pulled out a small pink envelope, and passed it to Julia. “Your wedding gift. And before you say anything, just accept it. I have no use for it.�
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“But we didn’t get married.”
“So, save it for when you do.” Heather cupped Julia’s cheek and gave it a soft pat. “Stay safe and look after him. He might be forty, but don’t let that fool you. He’ll always be a baby in my eyes.”
With one final wave, Heather climbed into the van, and they set off.
“My phone!” Jessie cried as she patted down her jeans. “I think I left it on the table. One second.”
Jessie darted back in the restaurant, leaving Julia and Barker on the pavement. Julia looked down at the envelope. It was the only gift they had received; the others no doubt having already been returned. She turned it over in her hands, unsure what to do with it. As though he could sense her reservations, Barker plucked the envelope from her hands and ripped it open.
“Julia!” Jessie cried, running out of the restaurant. “You need to come and see this!”
Before Julia could ask any questions, Jessie grabbed her and dragged her through the door. She pulled her into the middle of the restaurant and pointed her at lover’s corner. Rita and her son were long gone and had been replaced by two people who actually looked like they were on a date.
“Is that Dot?” Jessie laughed disbelievingly. “Holding hands with a man? What is happening to the world?”
Percy and Dot held hands across the table, a candle flickering between them. Percy pulled one hand away and reached into his inside pocket. Julia and Jessie exchanged startled looks and clung to each other as he pulled out a box. Julia breathed a sigh of relief when she realised that Percy was holding a carton of playing cards.
He shuffled the deck in his hands before offering them to Dot. She plucked one out, looked at it, and put it back. He waved his hand over the deck, shuffled the cards another time, and presented her with a card. Dot tilted her head and shook it. Percy looked disappointed and placed the cards on the table. He split them into two piles and attempted to merge them together like they did in casinos. The cards flew in every direction, causing Dot to laugh in an airy tone Julia had never heard before.