Page 43 of Murder in the Winter Woods
Julia was frowning too, on the inside at least. This was either an extraordinary coincidence, or something much worse.
‘Yes, Dominic Ardmore.’
Thatwas why she recognised him. Julia had come across Dominic Ardmore a year or two before, when she’d been caught up in another murder investigation. He and his brother looked very alike.
‘I remember the name. Your brother is Dom, from the band the Red Berries?’ Hester said.
He grinned. ‘The very one. He was on the keyboard. Not any more, of course. Luckily he gave up that band nonsense, same as your husbands did. Dominic’s an engineer now. Very successful. Yes, it was Dominic who introduced me to Lewis and Matthew. The band had a get-together a while back, a lunch. One of the chaps from out of town was here. It seemed like a good time to introduce them to this opportunity. Might as well spread the good fortune amongst friends, right?’
Hester didn’t answer the rhetorical question, just shook her head in astonishment. ‘Well, goodness me. This is a surprise. Who’d have thought…’
‘A small world, isn’t it, Mrs Shepherd?’
It was indeed.
Far too small for Julia Bird’s liking.
21
The weather, which had been unseasonably – some might say suspiciously – mild, had had a sudden change of heart. In fact, it seemed to be making up for lost time, chucking everything it had at Berrywick. Julia had woken to the pleasant sound of rain pattering on the roof, but it had cleared by the time she’d fed the animals and had her breakfast, leaving a watery light and biting cold in its wake. Julia had been in the Cotswolds long enough not to trust a brief respite, and had decided to drive into the village, in the expectation of more rain or even snow.
Her expectations were more than met – they were exceeded – when the first flakes of the season started to drift down mid-morning. Fortunately, when it began, she and Jake were already holed up in the Buttered Scone waiting for their order – a hot chocolate for her, and a pork sausage for him – and waiting for Hayley Gibson.
‘Good lord,’ said Julia, as the snow grew from a gentle flutter to a strong downfall. A gust of wind hurled the flakes horizontally at the front window of the tea room. ‘It feels like we’re in a boat in a storm at sea.’
Jake had never experienced a storm at sea, but he wasn’t enjoying the weather, not at all. He looked nervously at thewindows, and then back at Julia, the whites of his eyes showing as his gaze swivelled to and fro.
‘It’s okay, Jakey,’ she said, patting his shoulder. ‘Lie down, there’s a good boy.’
Flo came over with a huge steaming drink, and the warm sausage, considerably improving Jake’s state of mind.
‘Ah, that looks good! I don’t think I’ve ordered a hot chocolate in years.’
‘Well, it’s the weather for it. That or a hot toddy with a good lug of brandy.’
‘Eleven is slightly early for that,’ Julia laughed. She took a sip of her drink, which was silky smooth and rich with chocolate. The Buttered Scone might just be the local tea room in a little village in the Cotswolds, but Flo prided herself on using the best local ingredients, and doing everything just right. The hot chocolate was made with real chocolate and farm milk, with a raft of whipped cream and a grating of dark chocolate.
The door burst open, and a little group of people came in seeking shelter from the snow, Pippa Baker amongst them. They slammed the door behind them against the weather. There was a small commotion, laughter and exclamations, and the stamping of feet. They removed raincoats and shook out umbrellas, and hung up their dripping outerwear on a coat stand, before dispersing into the warm fug of the Buttered Scone.
Pippa stopped by Julia’s table and gave a dramatic shiver. ‘I see winter’s decided to join us. It’s icy out there. So bad that I left the puppies – it’s not the weather for dogs.’
‘Nice weather for the ducks though.’ Julia delivered the cliché with a laugh. ‘For humans, I recommend the hot chocolate. Do you want to sit?’
‘Just for a mo. I’m meeting my brother – I’m a few minutes early.’
Flo appeared noiselessly at their table, pen and notebook poised. ‘What can I get you, Pippa?’
‘Oh, thanks Flo, but I’ll wait for my brother. We’re going to have lunch. I’ve been dreaming of your delicious lamb chops.’
‘Have you now?’ Flo smiled. She was susceptible to a bit of flattery. ‘Well, they’ve come in just in time. Delivery from the butcher was late, what with poor Lydia. Isn’t that a thing?’
Flo was susceptible to local gossip, too. She wasn’t mean, but if there was news to be broken in Berrywick, she did like to be the one to break it.
‘I haven’t heard…’ Pippa and Julia looked at her expectantly.
‘Died in her sleep, she did, poor thing.’
‘What, last night?’ asked Pippa, in astonishment. ‘I can’t believe it. I was in the butcher’s shop just the other day with my aunt Margaret. She can’t drive anymore, so I took her out to do her shopping. Lydia was behind the counter serving the customers, fit as a fiddle. Well, apart from her bunions, which have been troubling her no end, as usual.’
