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Stranded on the lumpy sofa with my book for company meant the day ambled along. Occasionally, memories of Felix and Amelia’s conversation crept into my mind, but I started to doubt the accuracy of my memory. Peter and Camellia filled up the wheelbarrow with books because they worried I should not be putting weight on my legs.

I heard Peter’s raised voice in the dining room. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Camellia. No! Come on.’

I put my empty mug on the coffee table, shuffled to the edge of my seat and hobbled towards the dining room. ‘Is anything wrong?’ I asked, wondering if they knew something about Felix.

Camellia leaned on a filing cabinet, and whispered, ‘You said we need evidence.’

Peter pushed his face into a wide smile. ‘Maisie, my dear. I was just saying how wonderful it is to have a young teacher in our community.’

‘Peter, Camellia. Is everything all right? What evidence? Is there something you want to ask me?’

‘Oh, no - nothing,’ they chorused and busied themselves piling up some books.

‘You’re both very red in the face. Is the lifting too much for you?’

‘Everything’s champion, love.’ Camellia moved across the room with arms full of books. ‘I’ll just have a look at this pile before I put them outside for others.’ She removed a compact shopping bag from her pocket.

‘Please choose some books for free this time. You were kind enough to help me.’ This offer would sweeten them for now, but I still wondered what they were talking about.

‘Thanks.’ Camellia grabbed two books and stowed them in her shopping bag. ‘Peter, you can carry the box of books outside and I’ll put ours in here.’

When they finally left to put the books in the wheelbarrow, I sank back into the sofa and breathed out. The open window encouraged a breeze to flow through the house, but I did wish I had more modern windows to fling wide open on a summer’s evening. Voices drifted into the lounge from outside as people searched in the barrow for books.

‘I’ve been here every day, but she never puts any Bella Mysteries in here,’ complained Nora.

‘No. She’s probably going to sell them on eBay. Though I can’t blame the girl, it’s still sad. Imagine all your books sold for cash. Ada loved those Bella Mysteries.’

I sat up. My goodness, did they think I was ruthless? I had to stay calm. I thought they’d been pleased to have a bookshop of sorts. Maybe they were testing me. My mind was whirring with possibilities. If I spent the money on a ticket to Paris, they would be even more suspicious of me. Hell, they’d probably report me to the police.

Camellia raised her voice, as if addressing a large group of people. ‘I’ve heard she’s renovating the house. It’ll be one of those open-plan steel boxes by the end of the year. I miss Ada! You know, I sense she’s still with us and I keep looking for signs.’

I had no intention of completing major structural renovations. I loved the quirky stone cottage where none of the doors seemed to close properly. I moved closer to the window, pondering whether to challenge them. Danny and Felix had told me to ignore them, but I peered outside.

It’s all very sad,’ said Peter in a lowered voice. ‘I just can’t believe she’s dead and there hasn’t been any funeral or memorial service. Odd if you ask me. It’s a month since she allegedly passed away, pour soul. I loved receiving her postcards from Paris. But we need concrete evidence before we go to the police with anything.’

I continued with the paragraph I was reading, but the conversation outside echoed in my mind. Did they think I had murdered my aunt to get hold of the house? My face was burning, and I waited for it to subside. There was no point in going out there looking flustered.

‘I miss Ada.’ Camellia sighed. ‘She made me laugh every day with her wicked sense of humour. Her niece seems nice, but you can never tell. I watched that TV programme where the girl seemed helpful but was up to all sorts.’

‘I agree, you can’t take people at face value. Take Felix Laine for example. I trust him less than Maisie. But Maisie did seem to love her aunt. Would she really want to harm her?’ asked Nora.

‘But she didn’t even know about her aunt’s lover so they can’t have been that close. And I heard…’ But the end of Camellia’s sentence faded.

What on earth were they talking about? Standing at the window, I glared at them but seemed invisible. Did they realise how much my heart ached for Aunt Ada? It was outrageous of them to suspect me. I could feel my temper bubbling and knew from teacher training it was not a good idea to be out of control.

‘Look on the bright side,’ said Peter, smoothing down his thick grey hair. ‘At least Ada won’t win the Short Story Bash this year.’ He removed a tissue from the pocket of his blue blazer and dabbed his forehead.

‘Always a silver lining, Peter. You’re wicked.’ Camellia giggled. ‘I wish we could get inside the potting shed. Maybe poor is Ada locked …’

Unable to contain my anger, I eased myself towards the hallway, opened the front door and slammed it into the wall. Camellia strolled down my garden path hand in hand with Peter.

Danny stood on the step. ‘You’ve got those fierce don’t mess with me teacher eyes. Are you going to give me lines, Miss Bloom?’ He presented me with a huge box of paracetamol and a Chinese takeaway.

‘Sorry! I expected Camellia and Peter. I overheard their conversation and wanted to put a few things straight. They think, I erm.’ I leaned towards him. ‘I’m sure they think I’ve either murdered my aunt or locked her up in the shed.’

He released a huge belly laugh. ‘I told you they were hilarious! Don’t take the bait.’

‘Cooee. Is that you Maisie, my dear? Did I hear my name?’ Camellia dashed turned towards me, dragging Peter by the hand as if he was a child.

Peter’s tiny brown eyes in his round face reminded me of a gingerbread man. ‘Thanks again for the books, Maisie.’ Dimples appeared on his red cheeks. ‘We need more young folk in the community. The book barrow is a wonderful initiative. Well done, love.’ He took my hand and crushed it with a clammy handshake, then turned his attention to Danny. ‘Ah, Danny, lad, nice to see you too.’

I wanted to challenge the couple but stood there with my mouth open. I haven’t murdered or kidnapped my aunt, but I think she might be in Paris. Even in my head, the words sounded ridiculous.

Camellia threaded her arm through Peter’s. ‘Come along now, my love. I’ve got the soup kettle on timer, so we need to get ready for tonight’s community meeting.’

Peter held open the gate for Camellia. ‘Cheerio,’ they chorused.

Danny laughed. ‘Your aunt said they were more entertaining than a soap opera and can’t decipher fact from fiction.’

‘But I think they might report me to the police. Can you imagine the stress of the investigation? I haven’t done anything.’

‘The police are probably sick of their calls. Peter Longbottom is the worst. He’s a retired police officer, and always on the lookout for some crime. Frankly, I’d be worried if we depended on him to solve crimes. He’s obsessed with collecting evidence for everything because he was disciplined for making an arrest without sufficient proof.’

‘Ah, I see.’ I wanted to tell him I suspected my aunt might be in Paris, but my head was splitting. I had to find the key to the potting shed and see what on earth was in there.

‘Don’t let them mess with your head. You’re also tired from your fall, so now’s not a time to make any decision.’ He held out a blue box of paracetamol. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t get here sooner with these.’

‘I’m just so grateful. You should take some of the pills too. I’m causing you a huge pain in the ass, aren’t I?’

‘Nonsense. I’m happy to help. You owe me a couple of pints of ale. I’m keeping a tally.’

Holding up my thumbs, I said, ‘I’ll look forward to it. They have craft ale in the local now.’

‘Lovely, we’ll do a tasting session.’

He nodded to fill the silence. ‘The takeaway will reheat.’

‘Come and join me later, Danny.’ There, I’d said it.

‘I’d love to but business calls after my jog. Next time it’s your shout for a takeaway.’ He patted me on the shoulder like a good friend.

Bronte crashed into the middle of the conversation and jumped up on Danny who bent down to ruffle her fur. ‘Good girl! You’re home at last.’ He glanced up at me. ‘I can take her out if you’re struggling. I won’t mention the word - she even knows the letters.’

Bronte’s tail wagged then she nudged Danny’s hand.

‘It would be a help. I should be better soon, but Nora has also offered.’

‘I’ll take her in the morning. I’ll knock at about six when I go for my run. Nora can take her later in the day.’

‘Yes, yes that’d be great.’ I tried not to frown at the thought of the early start. ‘Do you have a key?’

‘Yes, but I’d rather knock.’

‘You’re the only neighbour who gets that.’ I laughed. ‘By the way, have you got any idea where the key is for the potting shed?’

‘No, sorry.’

Bronte grabbed the handle of the bag containing the takeaway in her mouth.

‘Bronte. Stop! See you soon, Danny.’

Bronte dropped the bag on the kitchen floor, nudged her empty bowl with her nose then sat in front of the cupboard containing her tins of food. After she had devoured her food, she nudged my leg with her paw. I stroked her ears and looked into her eyes. ‘I know, I know. I’m silly and need to forget them. That’s right, isn’t it?’