by Agatha Frost
Julia and Barker immediately handed their information to DI Christie, including the video footage showing Skye in the village when she claimed to have been stuck in the floods. Julia had only done so because she hoped Christie would put his ego aside to assess their findings with an open mind; she should have known better.
Despite her theory, Christie only saw what he wanted to see, which was Father David reading a letter in the pews and then someone stealing the items and being caught by Rita.
“It could be anyone!” he had said. “This proves nothing!”
The only thing he did listen to was Julia’s insistence that the two crimes were linked. When she pointed out that Gloria stole a water bottle from Rita and almost immediately began coughing, Christie’s ears pricked up, no doubt pleased he could ‘solve’ two cases with one vicar-shaped stone.
He also didn’t care about Skye’s numerous lies about her whereabouts, saying ‘anyone’ would have lied if someone with Julia’s ‘reputation’ started ‘ramming them with questions.’
They left the station full of frustration. Later that night, Christie called to say they were charging Father David and had denied him bail until his court hearing.
People in the village seemed happy to accept Father David’s guilt, but the thought of the vicar sitting in a lonely cell while he waited for his fate to be decided by other people only lit a fire under her backside.
She spent all the next day searching for Skye. She asked each member of the choir if they knew where she lived; none did. She drove out to the cinema Skye worked at only to find she hadn’t turned up for her shift and nobody there knew her well enough to know where she lived. Julia must have called Alfie a dozen times, but he hadn’t had any luck either.
Late on Friday night, Dot called to inform Julia that a distant cousin of Gloria’s had organised a funeral service at St. Peter’s Church after the police released her body. On Saturday morning, exactly one week after Gloria’s death during the wedding, Julia made her way down to the church to pay her respects.
Much like on the morning of the wedding, the weather was brutal. The rain lashed down persistently, with icy winds making it impossible to shelter under umbrellas. Julia met Dot and Percy, and they ran to the church, soaked by the time they reached the vestibule.
“A snowstorm is coming!” Dot announced as she attempted to fluff up her drowned curls. “The man on the radio said a wall of snow was going to cover the country by the end of the month!”
“Arctic winds,” Percy added. “It’s going to last until the New Year. They said we were about to enter a mini ice age!”
“They say that every year,” Julia assured them. “It’s probably just a slow news day.”
They sat in one of the back pews, and, as Julia had expected, the church was packed out. She knew it wasn’t because of Gloria’s popularity. More likely, people were desperate to get a glimpse of whoever had been brought in to replace Father David. It turned out that Father James Cartwright, a vicar from a neighbouring village, had been drafted in for the funeral service. He seemed like a nice man, but he wasn’t Father David. Hearing a different voice bellow through the church felt like a betrayal. No one mentioned Father David.
The service was short and sweet, and ended with Gloria’s cousin, Iris, an equally large lady of a similar age, giving a short eulogy and thanking everyone for such a great turnout. From her lack of detail, including no mention of the choir Gloria had adored, it was obvious Iris knew very little about the distant cousin she was laying to rest.
Though they were all invited to gather around the grave to say their final goodbyes to Gloria’s coffin, very few of the spectators who had come for the gossip value made their way into the graveyard, given the abysmal weather. Julia hadn’t intended on sticking around for the whole service, but she couldn’t bear the thought of Iris watching her cousin go into the ground without at least a couple of faces of support. With Dot and Percy by her side, they trudged across the waterlogged graveyard with their useless umbrellas plastered to their heads.
When Father James finished the service, Iris stared blankly into the grave as the coffin was slowly lowered to its final resting place. Because of the rain, it was hard to tell if she was crying, but she did wipe her cheeks a couple of times.
The rain finally ceased towards the end of the service, leaving them to toss handfuls of dirt onto the coffin without the rain turning it to mush in their hands. The clouds even parted, allowing the sun to break through.
“Were you friends of Gloria’s?” Iris asked as they walked back towards the church.
“Sort of,” Julia lied, not wanting to reveal there weren’t many people in the village who could have taken such a title. “Were you close with your cousin?”
“Not particularly,” Iris explained as they walked into the vestibule. “Truth be told, I hadn’t seen her in years. I was shocked to hear about her murder. I was listed as her next of kin, which was a surprise. I guess she didn’t really have any other family. I was glad to see so many people in the church. I know she wasn’t the most agreeable woman at times, but she had a good heart.”
“Where?” Dot scoffed, to which Julia elbowed her. “I mean … where are you from?”
“Bourton on Water,” Iris replied as she checked her watch, not seeming to notice Dot’s indiscretion. “I should get home. My husband will be wondering where I am.”
“He doesn’t know you’re here?” Percy asked.
“There’s a reason I haven’t seen Gloria in years.” Iris sighed. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? None of it really matters in the end.”
“What happened?” Dot asked a little too eagerly.
“The last time I saw her, I invited her to lunch,” Iris started, her eyes clouding over as she appeared to slip into her memories. “I hadn’t seen her for a couple of years. We’d get together every so often, if only out of habit. I invited her to my cottage for lunch. Everything was as pleasant as always, but when she left, we noticed an antique clock was missing from our mantelpiece. It was a family heirloom on my husband’s side, passed down through the generations. We had it appraised, and they confirmed that it was a genuine piece from the Regency era. The thing was worth a small fortune, but it had sentimental value for my husband. We joked that we’d sell the clock if we were ever short of money, but I always knew we could be homeless and he’d still cling to that thing until his dying breath.”
“And Gloria took it?” Dot asked. “I always knew there was something fishy about her!”
“I called Gloria the moment we noticed it was gone, but she denied even seeing a clock on the mantlepiece. As you can imagine, the disappearance of a two-hundred-year-old clock was enough to cut all ties.”
“Why would Gloria steal your clock?” Percy asked.
“Well, I don’t think she did,” Iris continued. “She had brought a friend with her. She never called ahead of time to ask, she just showed up with her. She didn’t even introduce us. I had to stretch the food out to four, and the woman ate like she’d never been fed!”
“What did the friend look like?” Julia asked.
“A waiflike woman with straggly hair,” Iris explained, indicating the height of a child with her hand. “About this tall. Peculiar woman. Freaky, almost. My husband wanted to call the police, but I convinced him not to. I never liked the thing, personally. I’ve always been more into Victorian décor. Besides, I didn’t want to put Gloria in that awkward position. She seemed quite protective of the tiny woman. I was surprised not to see her here today. I thought I might be able to finally get some answers from her.” Iris rechecked her watch. “I really should get going. If I miss the next bus, he’s going to start asking questions I’m not in the mood to answer. Thanks again for coming. I know Gloria would have appreciated it, in her own special way.”
Iris exited the church, leaving the three of them in the vestibule to digest what she had just said.
“She just described Flora,” Percy said, h
is nose wrinkled. “Odd, don’t you think?”
Julia had been so wrapped up thinking about Skye during the service that she hadn’t noticed Flora wasn’t there to say goodbye to her best, and only, friend.
Dot and Percy departed to go for lunch, leaving Julia to stand alone outside the church; they didn’t invite her along. She stared at the Christmas market, which had started to pick up now that the rain had passed. She considered fitting in a spot of Christmas shopping if only to avoid spending the rest of the day back at the cottage desperately searching online for any trace of Skye. Julia looked past the market to her dark café, more grateful than ever to have the business in her life. It had taken a week away to realise how it had become her security blanket when times were tough. Without it, she felt like a ship lacking a sail.
Instead of shopping, she decided she was going to walk to the post office and buy the ingredients to bake something in her café’s kitchen. She hadn’t picked up a wooden spoon since she had baked the firework biscuits. As she walked past, she cast one last glance in the direction of Gloria’s grave, surprised to see someone there. At first, she thought it might have been the gravedigger filling in the hole, but unless the gravedigger was an attractive, English rose beauty in her late-twenties, she knew she was mistaken.
“Skye,” Julia breathed aloud.
Julia hopped over the wall and set off towards the still open grave. Skye was looming over it, wearing a black trench-coat that nipped in at her tiny waist. A bunch of red roses, not unlike the ones that had turned up for Julia’s wedding, had been laid next to the hole.
“Skye!” Julia called. “Stop right there!”
Skye glanced at Julia before setting off in the opposite direction. Julia ran to catch up, her shoes squelching in the sodden grass as she weaved in and out of the headstones. Skye was calmly walking away, albeit at a brisk pace. Julia closed the gap between them and wrapped her arm around Skye’s arm.
“What do you want?” Skye cried, dragging her arm away from Julia. “Leave me alone!”
“I just want to talk to you,” Julia replied, taken aback by Skye’s volume. “I know you lied about your alibis.”
“Is that why you’ve had Alfie ringing me nonstop?” Skye snapped. “And why you visited my place of work to ask about me? What’s wrong with you, woman? Are you that in love with Alfie that you can’t stand the thought of him being with someone else?”
“In love with Alfie?” Julia couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s obvious!” Skye threw her arms wide. “Why else are you in my face questioning me every chance you get? Alfie told me you were investigating the choir, and I just knew you’d pick on me. Women like you always do.”
“Women like me?”
“Jealous ones!” Skye pointed her finger in Julia’s face. “You’re jealous of me. I get it, you’re what, forty? But you’re still pretty, and you have a fiancé, so just leave Alfie alone. Leave me alone, for that matter. I don’t want to be any part of your game!”
Julia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.
“I think you’ve really misunderstood my relationship with Alfie,” Julia said in her calmest voice. “He’s my adopted daughter’s brother. I know there’s less than a decade between us, and yes, I feel protective of him, but like a mother would of a son. I care deeply about his happiness, but I’m not in love with him.”
Skye appeared to be holding her breath. Her nostrils flared, and her cheeks darkened as she glared at Julia.
“So, why the obsession with me?” Skye asked.
“I know you lied about being in the village on the morning of the wedding. There were cameras in the church to capture my wedding, and I saw the video of you confronting Gloria. I know she slapped you, and that you ran away afterwards. You told me you were trapped in a flood.”
“Are you surprised?” Skye exhaled, her body relaxing. “A woman I didn’t like slapped me and then she died two hours later. I’m not stupid. I know how that looks and sounds. I didn’t think it was important. I came here today to put that to bed and pay my respects.”
“And the lie about the cinema?” Julia cocked her head. “Alfie told me the truth. You lied and dragged him into it.”
“I was at the cinema.” Skye’s eyes darted down, and she clasped her hands together. “I was at the cinema with another guy, okay? I panicked when you asked, and I didn’t want to admit it in front of Alfie. I like him, but we never said we weren’t seeing other people. I was just seeing how things went, and I already had a date planned with a guy from work.”
“Oh.”
“I can get you the camera footage of me being there if you don’t believe me,” Skye offered, her edges softening. “I was there all night. I stuck around after the film ended and helped one of the new girls with a stock check.”
“I believe you,” Julia found herself saying. “I could tell you were lying before, but I don’t have that feeling now.”
“Thank you.” Skye half-smiled. “I can see why you’re protective of Alfie. He’s a great guy. Things might have worked between us if the circumstances were different.”
“Can’t it work out now?”
“There’s too much going on.” Skye shook her head as her bright eyes became shiny from welling tears. “I have a lot going on with work and all this stuff with the murders. I need some time on my own to figure out what I want in life. I have a truckload of debt to pay off, and I’m not going to do it working in a cinema. I racked up the debt at university studying fashion design, and yet I’ve never tried to chase that dream. Life got in the way, and I got complacent. Maybe now’s the right time to give it a shot. I’m still young, and the debt isn’t going anywhere for a while, so why not try to be happy while I pay it off?” Skye reached into her trench coat and pulled her purse from her inside pocket. She pulled out a pile of notes. “Can you give this to Alfie? It’s only half of what I owe him, but it’s all I can afford this month. I’ll get the rest to him as soon as I can.”
Julia nodded that she would as she pocketed the money, but something white and shiny around Skye’s neck caught her eye as she put her purse away. Julia dove forward and ripped open Skye’s coat. A glistening pearl necklace hung around her neck.
“Where did you get that?” Julia asked as she ran her fingers along the pearls.
“My aunt gave it to me.” Skye glared as she stepped away from Julia. “It was a thank you for getting her back into the choir. It’s probably just a cheap piece of costume jewellery, but it’s the first thing she’s ever bought me.”
“It’s not costume jewellery,” Julia said, her heart pounding in her throat. “That’s Rita’s necklace. It was taken off her corpse right after she was murdered.”
Skye stared at Julia as the words sank in. When they did, she screamed and scrambled for the back of the necklace. She ripped it off and tossed it into the wet grass. They jumped back as though it was about the explode.
“Are you serious?” Skye cried as she rubbed at her neck. “How did she get it?”
“Skye, where does your aunt live?” Julia asked, her voice shaking.
“I-I don’t know.”
“Isn’t it weird that you don’t know where your aunt lives?”
“She’s always been private,” Skye replied, her eyes shifting from the necklace to Julia’s eyes. “What are you saying? That my aunt … that she…”
Skye’s voice trailed off, and before Julia could finish the sentence for her, her phone rang in her handbag, startling them both. She fished it out to see that Barker was calling her.
“Julia!” he panted down the phone as though he’d just been running. “You need to come home right now. There’s someone here I think you’ll want to talk to.”
Julia didn’t press Barker with questions; somehow, she knew exactly who was there. She plucked a handkerchief out of her bag and scooped up the necklace. Leaving Skye standing dumbfounded in the graveyard
, Julia sprinted home. When she burst into the hallway, she wasn’t the tiniest bit shocked to see Flora sitting in the armchair next to the fire, gobbling down a sandwich with Mowgli curled up in her lap.
“I think it’s time to explain yourself,” Julia said in between her gasps for air, “don’t you, Flora?”
Chapter Fourteen
Flora continued to stare into space as one hand shovelled sandwiches and the other stroked Mowgli. Barker appeared from the kitchen with wet hair and a red face. He had a cup of tea, no doubt containing five sugars, in his hand. He passed it to Flora, and she paused to gulp it down.
“I caught her trying to shove these through the letterbox.” Barker reached into his pocket and pulled out two gold wedding bands. “It was lucky I was coming out of the bathroom when I did. I had to chase her halfway down the lane in my bath towel! She’s an agile little thing.”
Barker tipped the rings into her palm. Julia turned them over with her thumb. The yellow gold caught the light as though calling her to put her ring on. Had it really been a week since that dreadful day?
“Has she said anything?” Julia asked, closing her fingers around the rings.
“She sat herself down and asked if I’d make her some sandwiches.” Barker folded his arms and turned to Flora. “Could hardly say no, could I?”
“You did the right thing.” Julia patted him on the shoulder. “Can you give us some time?”
Barker nodded and retreated into the dining room. When he closed the door behind him, Julia ventured into the sitting room. Flora looked up out of the corner of her eye, but her attention was firmly on Mowgli. She stroked him from tip to tail, causing wild purrs to vibrate in his throat.
“He likes you,” Julia said as she perched on the edge of the couch across from Flora.
“William liked me stroking his tail,” Flora said as she ran the fluffy mass through her fingers. “It’s their pride and joy.”
Julia smiled. She stayed quiet for a couple of minutes, merely watching Flora stroke Mowgli. Knowing what she had to do pained her.