by Agatha Frost
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Chapter One
“It’s snowing again,” Julia told Barker as she set a fresh cup of coffee next to his antique typewriter in the dining room of their Peridale cottage. “And to think, we’re already in February.”
“Huh?” Barker grunted, fingers still pounding on the heavy keys.
“More snow.” Julia nodded at the window behind him. “It’s February.”
“February?” Barker frowned, eyes still trained on the paper. “Since when?”
“Since three days ago.”
“Right, yeah. Of course.”
“Not that you’ve been out of this room much recently.” Julia eyed the collection of empty coffee cups that had accumulated amongst the masses of paper on the dining room table. “I’m starting to worry about you, Barker.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“What?”
“Hello?” Julia clicked her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to my husband? I know he’s in there somewhere.”
Barker tore his eyes away from his work and peered up at Julia, his gaze strained. He blinked as though he’d been in another world since before she’d entered the room to replenish his caffeine supply. Dark circles framed his eyes, confirming Julia’s suspicions that he hadn’t joined her in bed at any point during the night; he looked a decade older.
“I’m sorry, love.” Barker ran his hands down his face, his fingers grating against the thick stubble that had come in along his cheeks and jaw. “You have my full attention. What were you saying?”
“I’m worried about you.” Julia took the seat next to him and clutched his hands in her own. “You’re working yourself into the ground. When was the last time you went outside?”
“Outside?” Barker glanced over his shoulder at their snow-covered back garden as more fluffy flakes drifted from the hazy clouds. “Erm…”
“It was ten days ago.”
“It was?” Barker’s stubbly cheeks blushed maroon.
“Do you even know what day it is?”
“Tuesday?”
“Sunday.” Julia chuckled. “See what I mean?”
Barker sighed at his typewriter. “Maybe you have a point, but I don’t feel like I have much choice at the moment. Look at the changes they want me to make.” He picked up his second novel’s manuscript and flicked through to reveal the masses of red pen cluttering every page. “They practically want me to rewrite the entire thing! There isn’t a single scene they don’t want me to work on. And it’s not just small changes either. They’re changing the entire story, characters included. If I’d known it would be like this, I would never have left the police force to pursue this stupid fantasy of being an author.”
“Oh, Barker.” Julia ran her hand along his shoulders. “It’s not a fantasy. Your first novel was such a huge hit! You must have made the publishers a small fortune from the sales. They should trust your vision more.”
“Well, yesterday’s hit is tomorrow’s bargain-bin fodder.” Barker grabbed his phone and showed Julia a picture of a basket piled high with paperback copies of his first novel, The Girl in the Basement. “Someone tweeted me that yesterday. Look at the price! One whole British pound! Is that all I’m worth now? A sole bestseller before I fade into obscurity with the rest of them? I’m the definition of a one-hit wonder. They should call me Barker Bargain-Bin Brown from now on.”
“I think the nickname needs more work,” she said playfully. “You’re not going to fade into obscurity.”
“You have to say that,” he said with a weary smile, his tired eyes crinkling at the corners, “you’re my wife.”
Julia continued to rub his back while silence filled the room. They had been married for a little over a month, not that they had been able to enjoy it much. The panicked emails from Barker’s publishers had started immediately after Christmas, and since then, Barker had been spending more and more time shut away in the dining room, pounding away on his laptop, and then his typewriter when his eyes couldn’t take the strain anymore. Julia hadn’t minded indefinitely postponing their honeymoon so he could work on his novel, but she was starting to miss her husband’s company.
“I don’t feel like I’m getting anywhere.” He dropped his head low, his voice faint. “I rewrite the scenes as they ask, but they’re never satisfied. They want to drive me crazy, and it’s working.”
“Is there nothing you can do?”
“Not unless there’s a way to get me out of my three-book deal with Mystery Triangle Publishing.” He reached out with a shaky hand and picked up his coffee cup. “I should have paid more attention to the small print. Turns out, I’m legally required to provide at least one approved manuscript every twelve months from the start of the contract, and those twelve months reset whenever a book is released. That was easy with the first one. They took it as it was written with minimal changes. I never expected them to get so involved. To make things worse, they’ve already given me my advance, and most of that went into the wedding. For months, the pre-order has been online for an April release to match the first book. They’ve got me against a wall!”
“That’s not fair.”
“‘Publishing isn’t fair’, or so my agent keeps reminding me.” Barker slurped his coffee, his eyes glazing over as he stared through the paper sticking out of his typewriter. “They keep throwing how much they did for the first release in my face. The press, the TV interviews … it’s like they want me to grovel with gratitude for their generosity.” He grimaced. “Maybe I should scrap it and start again? They said they loved the idea of murderous drag queens living in a Blackpool B&B by the sea, and yet they’ve made changes to every story decision I’ve made. It was based on a true story, our true story, but now it barely resembles any ounce of what really happened. I’m beginning to think I’m not cut out for this career.”
“You’re a brilliant writer,” Julia assured him. “And I’m sure your second book is just as good as the first. If you’d let me read it, I could try to help?”
“What’s the point?” Barker ripped the paper out of the machine, scrunched it up, and tossed it into the corner to join the sea of similar crumpled rejects on the dining room floor. “Nothing I do can save this. I might as well hand back my advance and go crawling to the station. Perhaps they’ll take me back as a desk sergeant. Or maybe a cleaner? I must have been going through a mid-life crisis when I quit. Who does that in their thirties after spending so many years becoming a DI?”
Julia squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. Even though she could hear the sarcasm in his voice, the tangible fear in his eyes told her he really thought losing his new career was a possibility. Barker had always dreamed of being a writer. To see his dream twisted before his eyes crushed Julia. The stress he was enduring made running her café feel like child’s play.
“Enough about my failures.” Barker held back a yawn before clapping his hands together. “What are you doing today? Another lazy Sunday at home while the snow falls outside? We could curl up in front of the fire and watch a film? I need a break from all this.”
“I wish I could, I do, but I agreed to judge the Peridale Bake Off, remember?”
“That’s today?”
“Sunday the third.” Julia nodded as she checked her watch. “Speaking of which, my second batch of cupcakes should be ready to come out.”
Leaving Barker in the dining room, Julia hurried into the kitchen and pulled open the oven door. After a quick poke to ensure her cupcakes were cooked through, she placed the hot tray on a cooling rack.
“They smell delicious,” Barker remarked as he drifted into the kitchen.
“Ginger and raspberry.” Julia tugged off her oven mitts and moved to the first batch, which was now cool enough to decorate. “And here we have lemon and Earl Grey tea. A recipe I perfected
last week in the café. Jessie thinks it tastes ‘rank’, but I’m quite taken by it.”
“Speaking of the devil, where is Jessie?” Barker asked as he reached out to grab one of the cupcakes.
“No idea.” Julia slapped his hand away. “There aren’t enough for spares. I only made thirty, what with the snow carrying on as it has. I doubt the turnout will be what they’re expecting.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Barker climbed onto a stool at the breakfast bar and watched Julia work. “Didn’t you say they’ve got that famous fella judging with you? The one who does the afternoon show on Cotswold Classic Radio?”
“Tony Bridges.”
“That’s him.” Barker snapped his fingers. “He comes across like a real down-to-earth guy. We always used to have him on in the station.”
“He’s all people have been talking about at the café since the announcement in the paper.” Julia added buttercream to the final cupcake before applying candied lemon slices on top. “When word spread that I was judging the bake-off with him, people assumed I must know him. I’ve had everyone from Shilpa to Evelyn asking me to get autographs. They all seemed rather disappointed when I said I’d never met the man. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I should have agreed to do this in the first place. Who am I to judge people’s baking skills?”
“You’re the best baker in Peridale, and everyone thinks so.” Barker sent her a wink. “There’s no one more qualified in the whole county to judge a bake-off, and you know it.”
Julia suppressed her smile. Even though she didn’t want to admit it openly, she’d been beyond flattered when the Cotswold Baking Society had approached her to judge the first-ever Peridale Bake Off competition. She didn’t care that they were barely paying her, or that she’d been asked to provide cupcakes for the coffee and cake hour during the competition, she was just proud they thought she was good enough to take on such a responsibility.
“Does Tony bake?” Barker muttered through a mouthful of buttercream as he piped the leftovers directly into his mouth. “I can’t imagine he has much time with a daily radio show.”
“I have no idea.” Julia shrugged. “He must do if he’s agreed to be a judge. I doubt they’re paying him much. It’s only a small local competition. If he doesn’t love baking why else would he get involved? Especially given his allergy.”
“Allergy?”
“Peanuts,” Julia said, for what felt like the hundredth time that week. “Deathly allergic, according to the organisers. It’s been all over the flyers, and I’ve been reminding people all week not to include any peanuts in their bakes. The last thing we want to do is kill a beloved local celebrity. We don’t have all that many to begin with. I can only think of one other.”
“Who?”
“A national best-selling author.” Julia cupped Barker’s face between her palms. “I heard his second novel is coming out soon, and I’m sure it’s going to exceed everyone’s expectations.” She kissed him on the lips. “You can try one of the cupcakes. And when I say one, I mean one. I’m going to call Jessie to see where she is. She was gone before I woke up.”
Leaving Barker in the kitchen to sample a lemon and Earl Grey cupcake, Julia walked into the sitting room and unplugged her mobile phone from its charger. Perching on the sofa next to Mowgli, who was curled up asleep, she pressed her phone against her ear and cast her gaze through the steamy windows to the sea of white beyond.
The dial tone beeped three times before redirecting to voicemail. Julia might not have been the most technologically savvy person in the village, but she knew that meant Jessie had purposefully rejected her call.
“Jessie, it’s Mum,” Julia said after a robotic voice instructed her to speak. “Where are you? Don’t forget the bake-off. You said you’d be there to be my sidekick judge, remember? I can’t do this without you. Call me when you get this, okay? Love you.”
Julia hung up but continued to stare at Jessie’s contact picture on the screen. It hadn’t been the first time recently she hadn’t been able to get through to Jessie, who seemed to be flitting out of the house more and more with no explanation.
“No answer,” Julia said to Barker when she returned to the kitchen. “Do you think something is going on with her? She’s been acting odd lately.”
“She has?” Barker licked his fingers after finishing the cupcake. “This is really yummy. You’re onto another winner.”
“You’re missing a lot in your writing cave.” She ruffled his hair as she walked past, ready to release the ginger and raspberry cupcakes from their metal baking tray. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“She’s a teenager. It’s her job to make you worry.”
Julia smiled over her shoulder, knowing Barker was right, but it didn’t dispel the unease twisting her stomach. Despite Jessie only having been in Julia’s life for two years, and only legally having been her daughter for even less time, Julia’s maternal instincts had been growing stronger with each passing day. She could read Jessie like a book, and she knew her daughter was hiding something.
“I think I’ll come and watch you judge,” Barker said after letting out a long and deep yawn. “The fresh air might do me a world of good.”
“You need to sleep.” Julia transferred the cupcakes onto a fresh tray and began drizzling them with cinnamon icing. “Your days of pulling all-nighters are long gone, Barker Brown.”
“I’m still a spring chicken! Forty is the new twenty.”
“Where did you read that?”
“A magazine.”
“Well, tell that to your body.”
“I’m fine.” Barker stretched out and cracked his neck. “Another cup of coffee and I’ll be as good as new. Besides, I don’t want to miss my wife judging alongside the Tony Bridges.”
“Something tells me you’re more interested in seeing Tony Bridges.”
“Nonsense.” Barker appeared behind Julia and wrapped his hands around her waist, nuzzling his nose against her neck. “There could be a hundred Tony Bridges in a room, and I’d still only see you.” His warm lips brushed against her skin, sending a tingle down her spine. “What time does the bake-off start, because I thought we could—”
Before Barker could propose his idea, a loud and frantic knocking echoed down the hallway from the front door. Barker continued kissing Julia’s neck; as lovely as it felt, she couldn’t ignore the door.
“That’s probably Jessie.” Julia pulled away when the knocking turned into banging. “How much do you want to bet she's forgotten her keys again? Okay, okay! I’m coming!”
Julia opened the door to the icy wonderland, but Jessie wasn’t there to greet her. Instead, Julia’s father, Brian South, stood on her doorstep as snow swirled around him, baby Vinnie clutched against his chest. He had three stuffed bags slung over his shoulder, and what appeared to be a travel cot crammed under his arm.
“Dad?” Julia ushered him inside when she noticed his wide-eyed panic. “Has something happened?”
“It’s Katie.” His voice trembled. “She’s had an accident in Ibiza.”
“An accident? When? Is she okay?”
“About an hour ago.” He dropped the bags on the ground and leaned the cot against the hallway table. “Her friend was crying so much on the phone I could barely understand her. Something about a banana boat and a broken leg.”
“Who’s broken their leg?” Barker appeared in the hallway. “Hi, Brian.”
“Katie,” Julia answered, her hand drifting up to her mouth. “She only left for the airport yesterday.”
“I should have listened to my gut!” Tears collected in the corners of her father’s eyes. “I knew it was a bad idea for her to go on holiday with all her old modelling friends. They start acting like kids the second they’re all together in a room. Add in the sun, and the all-you-can-drink bar and something like this was bound to happen.” He inhaled deeply as Julia rested her hand on his shoulder. “I can’t stay. I need to get to the airport. My flight leaves in two ho
urs. I was lucky to find something in this weather.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Julia asked. “Do you need me to drive you or—”
“Vinnie.” He passed the baby over. “I can’t take him with me. I’m going to be stuck in a hospital in the middle of Ibiza. It’s no place for a baby. I’m sorry to ask, Julia, but I’m desperate.”
“You want me to look after Vinnie?” Julia heard the panic in her voice as she struggled to hold up her surprisingly heavy fourteen-month-old baby brother. “For how long?”
“Until Katie can fly home again.” Brian checked his watch before swooping in to kiss Vinnie on the cheek. “I really need to get on the road. The snow is going to slow me down. Everything he needs should be in his bags. You have my number if there’s an emergency. You’re a star.”
Brian kissed Julia on the forehead, waved to Barker, and left as quickly as he had arrived, slamming the door behind him. With her wriggling brother in her arms, Julia turned to Barker, her confusion reflected in his blank expression.
“Dada?” Vinnie reached for the front door, his feet pushing against Julia with startling strength. “Da-da?”
“Dada’s gone on a little holiday,” Julia said, the wobble in her voice barely masked by her panicked smile, “but I’m sure he’ll be back soon. It looks like you’re going to be spending some time with your big sister. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
Vinnie looked up at Julia and then down the hallway at Barker; tears and wailing followed immediately.
Chapter Two
“I knew I had one somewhere.” Julia produced a pink car seat from the cupboard at the end of the hall. “Sue left it here for when I look after the twins, but I haven’t needed to use it until now. Do you know how to fit one?”
“Do I know?” Barker replied as he held Vinnie at arm’s length. “I thought you’d know.”