Page 14 of A Village Theatre Murder

‘I’d be so grateful. I’ve been meaning to do it and feeling bad about them sitting there, but somehow I just couldn’t…’

‘Of course not. You’re grieving. Point me to the vases, and I’ll get them looking nice.’

Jane found a couple of vases and a pair of scissors for Julia, then put the kettle on and pottered around with the tea things. ‘How is Hannah?’ asked Tabitha.

‘The poor girl is devastated. She was so close to her dad. Lucky she has the baby to keep her occupied, and her husband, Ahmed, is ever so nice, and ever so helpful. A properly modern fellow. Cooks, cleans, sees to the baby. They asked me to staythe night with them but I came home. I want to be in my own space.’

‘I can imagine. And if you need anything, or just a chat…’ Julia said, snipping the ends off a bunch of roses.

‘Thank you. I just want to know what happened. The accident, you know. I can’t imagine how the gun…’ She shook her head, whether in confusion or denial was unclear. ‘Did you see Oscar, when you were at the police station?’

‘We did, briefly. He was coming out as we went in.’

‘How is he?’ Jane took one teacup from the shelf. Her hands were trembling, making the cup rattle slightly against the saucer. She turned and lowered it carefully onto the table. She reached up for a second cup.

‘He looked pretty shaky. He asked after you, too. He was worried about you.’

Jane nodded sadly as she put the cup down with a tiny rattle. Her movements were so slow it looked almost as if she was underwater.

‘We’ve known each other a long time, me and Oscar. We were at school together.’

‘Oh, yes, Oscar said so. That’s a very long friendship,’ said Tabitha. It would be over thirty years, maybe even forty, Julia thought, doing the quick maths in her head.

‘It is. Very long and…’ Jane stopped halfway to fetching the third cup from the shelf. She turned to Julia. ‘It wasn’t his fault, what happened. It was an accident. No one’s to blame, I suppose.’

This was not DI Gibson’s view. But it seemed Jane wasn’t aware of that. Hayley must not have told her.

‘Oscar must feel awful,’ Jane continued. ‘Especially because…’

Julia knew that pause, that significant pause that meant something difficult was coming. She knew towait quietly, calmly, a stem in one hand and the scissors in the other. Any sudden movement could spook the speaker.

‘Because he’s so very fond of me,’ Jane said, continuing the slow turn and the stretch of her arm towards the third cup. ‘We had a real connection, from the old days, you know. At one time, he hoped…But I chose Graham. That’s what it comes down to in the end, doesn’t it? I loved Graham, I chose him. And at the end, we all had to live with that, whether it was the right choice or not.’ Jane frowned, as if pondering the choice even now. ‘And Oscar has been an enormous support to me recently. I know he’ll be devastated to have caused Graham’s death, even though it’s not his fault. Nobody would have wanted that. I have no idea how…’

But Jane couldn’t keep speaking. Her eyes clouded with tears, and the cup slipped from her hands and shattered noisily on the flagstone floor.

9

While she waited for Flo to bring her coffee, Julia wondered how Sean and Jono were getting on. Jono would probably still be asleep, if her own experience of young people was anything to go by. Tena.m. was practically the crack of dawn as far as they were concerned. It was fairly early for the Buttered Scone, too. Julia and Jake were some of only a few customers occupying tables.

It was starting to get dark when Sean and Jono had come to fetch Leo the previous evening, on their way back from London. They had both looked shattered after hours of driving, and who knew what other stresses in between. Julia had searched for echoes of Sean’s features in Jono, but concluded he must take after his mother. Slim and long-legged, with delicate features, where Sean was stockier and more rugged. Dark, where Sean was fair and freckled. He had Sean’s eyes, though, she saw. Almond-shaped, and a clear, bright blue, with finely arched brows. But his eyes lacked Sean’s characteristic twinkle, she noted sadly. The young man had a dull, worried air. He greeted her quietly and politely when introduced, but seemed withdrawn and uncommunicative, except when he met the dogs.When Jake and Leo came running out to greet them, he perked up noticeably, talking warmly and calmly to them, and rubbing their ears.

‘Thank you for looking after Leo,’ Sean had said, giving her a quick hug. It was the hug of a friend or even an acquaintance, without noticeable pressure or warmth. It made Julia wonder what, if anything, he had told Jono of their relationship. She knew that the father and son had barely spoken in the last year or two – Jono had been mysterious, painfully elusive – so it may be that he didn’t know his dad had a partner.

She’d offered them a cup of tea and a sandwich, but Sean had demurred, saying it had been a long day and there was still the unpacking to do. She saw them out. The boot of the car and most of the back seat were full with a backpack, a guitar, a box of books, some sort of electronic music desk with sliders and levers, old shopping bags overflowing with stuff, a pile of what looked like coats. Jono folded himself over and manoeuvred himself awkwardly into the passenger seat, one long leg on either side of a large djembe drum that stood in the footwell. That must have made for a fairly uncomfortable few hours from London. Julia hoped fervently he hadn’t tapped out a tune as they had sped along the M40, for that would surely have sent his father completely round the bend.

With Jono safely stowed, Sean had hugged her again, more warmly this time, and got into the driver’s seat. As he’d left, he had sent her a sort of meaningful look through the car window, a look that seemed to be trying to convey or explain something, but she’d had absolutely no idea what. He would no doubt phone when he had a moment, and tell her about everything that had happened in London.

‘Here you are, love,’ said Flo, appearing silently from behind Julia’s left shoulder and interrupting her recollections. ‘Here’s your coffee. Breakfast is on the way. And I’ll bring a little something for Mr Chocolate. Fancy a bit of bacon, Jake?’

Jake wagged his tail, and in fact his entire bottom, to convey just how much he did indeed fancy a bit of bacon. If Jake looked a bit shifty and unsure of himself, it was because he was unused to being inside the Buttered Scone. Guests with dogs had always sat outside, on the few tables on the pavement, but after consideration and consultation, Flo had decided that the Buttered Scone was now a dog-friendly eatery. There was even a sign by the door –Dogs welcome with well-behaved owners!– and a dog menu, which consisted of a small serving of fancy dog biscuits, which Julia never ordered because Flo always brought Jake a little treat from the kitchen, a bit of sausage or a piece of bacon.

When she returned with Julia’s scrambled egg on toast, and Jake’s bit of bacon, Flo had a copy of the morning paper tucked under her arm. In a frankly impressive manoeuvre she put the plate in front of Julia without dropping the paper, placed the side plate with the bacon next to it, and delivered the paper with a flourish.

‘Have you seen this?’ she said.

Julia leaned over to have a look.

Was it MURDER On the Boards? screamed the headline. And beneath it:Police investigate am-dram death, as a devastated Cotswold village waits for answers.

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