Page 16 of Murder in the Winter Woods
While Coral was slicing and plating the cake, Julia opened her handbag and took out the short chain with its dangling saint. ‘I came to bring this,’ she said, putting it on the table in front of her. ‘I was walking near the site of the accident and I found this St Christopher. I thought Lewis might have dropped it. And that it might have sentimental value for you.’
Coral sat down, putting the cake plate in front of Julia. She picked up the charm. ‘This is not Lewis’s. I’ve never seen it before.’ She put it down with some distaste, and brushed her hands together as if to remove dust.
‘Oh, well, it seems I jumped to the wrong conclusion, what with his job…St Christopher is meant to guard travellers, you know.’
‘Oh, Lewis wasn’t superstitious like that. He believed in keeping your wits about you on the road. Not that that helped him in the end…’ Coral’s rather formal manner cracked and her eyes teared up.
‘I’m so sorry, Coral,’ said Julia, stricken. ‘The last thing I wanted to do was to come here and upset you. I thought it might be something special or personal…But it’s obviously not.’ She slipped the offending item back into her bag, and put her palm over the widow’s shaking hand. ‘Now, you take a minute and I’ll pour us some tea.’
Coral nodded meekly, while Julia bustled with the tea things. By the time she’d poured their second cup of tea, and they’d started on a second slice of cake – ‘Just a sliver, now’ – Coral had a better colour. She seemed to have warmed to Julia, after her initial suspicious manner, and had started telling her about their son, who was married to a dentist, and had twin baby boys and twin Airedales.
When they’d finished their tea and cake, and Julia had a full picture of the family tree, along with considerable insight into the twins’ similarities and differences, she stood up to go.
‘I’d better let you get on with your day, Coral. I’m sure you have lots to do. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.’
‘Not at all. I appreciate you coming. It was kind of you to bring the saint,’ Coral said. ‘And it was nice to meet you properly.’
‘You too, Coral. Thank you for the delicious tea. Now you take good care of yourself, and remember I’m here if you need to chat.’
Back at home, Julia allowed herself a bit of Facebook lurking. It was slim pickings, frankly. A lot of memes. The ‘I Love Berrywick’ page had the usual notices about upcoming eventsand things to do – everything from a Tuesday morning knitting circle called Knits & Wits, to a volunteer bat counting project, to the Christmas market.
There were the usual things for sale, and a few lost-and-found notices. Scrolling through them, Julia had a thought. She took out the St Christopher, placed it on her desk and snapped a picture. She put up the photograph, together with a caption:St Christopher. Found on Maple Road. DM me if it’s yours.
Scrolling through some more, she saw that someone had shared Jim McEnroe’sSouthern Timestribute to Lewis –Life of local taxi man killed in hit-and-run– which had attracted scores of comments. Lots of people expressed shock and sadness and sympathy. A good many expressed their outrage at the kind of driving that had killed him. Which reminded Julia of her other intended task for the day – to work on the ideas and messages that would inspire visitors to drive better and slower in Berrywick.
9
Julia rang the intercom and Hayley buzzed the door open without even waiting to hear who was there, which didn’t seem like excellent security practice from a police person. In the little foyer, Sean picked up a few scattered flyers and letters that had been pushed through the letterbox and put them on the table against the wall. Julia walked to the front door of the flat on the left of the staircase, and knocked. The door had recently been painted a bright peacock blue, she noted, and the gleaming brass knocker looked brand new. She suspected this welcoming combination was Sylvia’s influence.
Hayley’s voice came from within: ‘It’s open, come in!’
Julia opened the door to see Hayley’s sister Rosie bustling towards her, wiping her hands on her apron, which was printed with silhouettes of birds, stamped in green.
‘Julia! Sean! How lovely to see you again,’ she said. ‘And undermuchhappier circumstances.’
The circumstances under which Julia had first met Rosie a year or so ago, had indeed not been pleasant. Rosie had come to stay with Hayley, who had been signed off work and confined to her home with a badly broken leg after a hit-and-run that had turned out to be an attempted murder. Rosie – bless her – hadhad the unenviable task of tending to the grumpy, frustrated, housebound detective until she was able to hobble back to work.
Rosie hung up their coats. The weather had turned positively chilly, but Hayley’s flat was pleasantly warm, a fire glowing in the corner.
‘I can’t wait to meet Hayley’s Sylvia.’ Rosie rubbed her hands together and spoke in an eager stage whisper which was easily loud enough to carry into the kitchen, where Hayley could be heard clunking pots and pans around. ‘She’ll be here any moment, I expect. She’s on her way over, doing a few last bits of shopping on the way. I am sure she’s lovely. She sounds lovely. Is she lovely?’
‘She certainly does seem so, and they seem happy together,’ said Julia.
Some months after they’d become ‘an item’, Hayley was finally ready to introduce her new girlfriend to her sister. Hence the early midweek supper. Sean and Julia were there for moral support, and to smooth over any awkward silences or tricky moments.
Rosie was such a cheery, pleasant creature, however, it seemed unlikely that any smoothing would be necessary. Her appearance matched her personality to a pleasing degree. She had a creamy complexion, and her face had a soft plumpness, as if she were made of clouds and sugar and cherubs.
Hayley came through from the kitchen, and Julia was once again struck by how different she was from her sister, not only physically – the detective inspector was darker, more angular – but in personality. Rosie was a guileless, open-hearted sort, while Hayley Gibson had a more cynical view of the world, as you would expect from someone who investigated crimes for a living.
Julia gave Hayley a sort of hug and presented her with a bunch of dahlias which she’d picked up from Blooming Marvels on her way home from working at Second Chances. Sean gaveher the bottle of wine that he had brought. ‘Shall I take the apple pie into the kitchen?’ Julia asked.
Hayley nodded. ‘Yes please. I hope you can find a spot for it.’
Indeed, it looked as if every item from every drawer and cupboard had been used in preparing the meal, and was now scattered about the countertops. Julia piled a few plates on top of the dishwasher and put the pie down in the little space she’d created. She looked at it with satisfaction, proud of the job she’d done on the lattice pastry.
Hayley came into the kitchen and filled a vase with water, dropping the bunch of dahlias in. Rosie followed, in conversation with Sean. ‘…so I thought I’d come up and visit Hayley before I start my new job. It’s going to be full-on, getting settled, and then I’ll be off to New York for a conference, so who knows when next I’ll get three or four days to myself.’
‘A new job?’ asked Julia. ‘Congratulations. What is it you’ll be doing?’
