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There was no response at Felix’s studio. After hammering on the door, I expected him to come outside in a haze of fury. The silence disappointed me. One-way privacy glass in the windows prevented me from observing inside of the smart oak clad building. What was he trying to hide? This was an opportunity to investigate. ‘Aunt Ada?’ I shouted, testing Nora and Camellia’s theory she could be in there.

Worried I had caught sleuthing fever from the ladies that insist, I jogged down to the village to clear my head and steady my nerves. Cars forced me next to hedges and walls of cottages. At the end of Ramblers Road, a trickle of sweat ran down my back. A stop at Heatherbridge Stores to collect water would be a welcome break.

But before I had crossed the road, Felix ran towards me with his hair ruffled. The musty smell of his sweat hit me. ‘I was painting when you called earlier. I was too busy to let you in.’

Out of breath, I mumbled, ‘I see,’ thinking how it was OK for him to disturb me at any time.

‘Why did you call for your aunt?’ He narrowed his eyes.

Oh no, I could not let him rumble the motive for my impulsive investigation? ‘Did I? I miss her and well…’

‘Poor, Maisie,’ he shouted as I watched him run a great speed. ‘Get the champagne on ice for later and we’ll chat then. Can’t stop.’

He had disappeared before I could respond again. My plan was to drink a glass of champagne a day and keep the doctor and suitors away until I went to Paris. The second unopened bottle of champagne in my fridge would make me feel glamorous when I returned. My breathing didn’t sound right so I leaned against the stone wall and rubbed the stitch in my side.

Inside Heatherbridge Stores, I opened the fridge and let the cold air drift up to my face. It was sad to know I would not bump into Danny. Strange how I now missed Danny, but Felix annoyed me.

‘Good morning.’ I smelled the scent of vanilla soap before I saw Nora. ‘You’re very flushed, my dear - the same colour as Camellia a couple of moments ago. There was a big kerfuffle at her cottage earlier. Police and Felix were at the house. I’ve no idea what my friend has been up to, but Peter is worried. I saw Camellia go quietly into the police car, but her feet and legs were bleeding.’

Sparks of possibilities formed on the edges of my mind, but, above all, questions were circling like birds of prey. Why was Felix running and why was there blood? ‘What happened?’ I asked, visualising the missing knife from my kitchen.

‘The police wouldn’t tell me anything and Camellia just scowled at me from the police car. I did try to chat with Felix, but he seemed preoccupied. I tell you what, his hair was a mess. I didn’t know he could actually sweat.’

‘He is always so well groomed,’ I said, regretting my comment instantly.

‘Anyhoo,’ she said, after a pause. ‘I’m not entirely sure I trust Felix Laine. I saw him snooping around your aunt’s shed before you moved in. I was having a cuppa with Danny in his garden, and I saw Felix through the fence. I can’t understand why your aunt gave him a key and not us.’ She straightened her pink T-shirt. ‘Between you and me, his eyebrows remind me of one of my Three Musketeers Toby jugs, and it’s not my favourite. Felix is too perfect.’

Felix had seemed flustered when I spoke to him earlier. ‘Have you got reason to suspect Felix of anything?’

‘I just told you why I’m suspicious.’ Nora spat out her words.

‘OK.’ It was time to escape from the gossip. I was becoming one of the Heatherbridge sleuths. ‘Must dash, I’ve got to finish the jog, then get home to finish some preparation for my new job. It’s all go! Bye, Nora.’

I texted Grant about Felix and then jogged towards the bridge to drink the bottle of water. I never tired of admiring the hillside where the heather would be in its full glory in August. Rocks blended into the hillside as if a giant had carved them to provide steps for the climbers who clung to the side. I screwed up my eyes to watch them make their way to the top and thought of Danny who was probably on a romantic holiday with Laura. I missed him.

My new classic ringtone nudged me from my thoughts. ‘Hello, Grant. Yes, yes, Felix did look stressed. No idea what happened, I hope to find out soon.’

‘Are you wearing your tweeds and the brogues, darling?’

‘No. I’m wearing lycra leggings and sandals.’ I hobbled past Heatherbridge Sweetshop, Baa Wool and the general store.

‘Ouch, Grant. You’re laughing in my ear. I’ve decided to get into shape before school starts.’

‘Enough chit chat. What has sexy Felix done now? Spill.’

‘He was running.’

Grant’s laughter deafened me again. ‘You’re jogging so you can keep up with him.’

‘What? No. He was running from Camellia’s house. She was covered in blood.’

‘What happened?’

‘I don’t know but the police were at her house. A knife went missing when Felix was at the house, and now I’m worried.’

‘I’m not sure it is all necessarily related. Calm down. You’re always misplacing stuff. Be careful - just wait for now and see if the police ask questions.’

‘Felix has given me a ticket for Business Class to Paris and I’m not sure I should accept it now. What if he is involved?’

‘Is it a free ticket?’

‘Yes. Is it maybe a bribe?’

‘That doesn’t make any sense. He hasn’t asked you to lie for him, has he?’

‘No. But. I suppose it’s just a weird feeling.’

‘Accept the ticket for now. You don’t have any evidence.’

‘Now you sound like Camellia’s Peter.’

‘Heaven forbid! I looked up your Danny on t’internet and he’s not how you described at all. He looked very fit. Don’t you dare give up on him. He’s perfect for you, and I know we’d be great friends. I can tell you’re miserable because he’s not there. Hang on in there and let the wealthy George Clooney neighbour spoil you. Who’d have thought there were so many men in the boring countryside. No wonder you have a weird feeling. Be yourself and don’t snort laugh, unless you’re trying to snare Black Beauty. You need a holiday. Sort out your accommodation in Paris and forget about everything. Love you.’

I strolled over the bridge and up the hill away from the village. Pleased I managed the ascent, I sat on a bench to collect my thoughts. Grant was right, searching for accommodation in Paris would calm me down. And if I was going to take the jogging seriously, I needed to invest in decent trainers. At some point I would try jogging up the hill.

*

I fired up the laptop in the study. After I had googled the artists’ quarter in Paris, photos of Montmartre appeared, and I explored the area until I found the bistro Chez la Mère Sylvie. I imagined myself in Paris, sitting outside a bistro drinking coffee as I watched Bella’s apartment with Aunt Ada.

I asked Alexa, ‘Where should I stay in Montmartre?’ Since living alone, I treated the search engine as a friend. The cheapest accommodation was a room in a studio flat at twenty-seven euros. When I enlarged the one photo, I noticed a curtain around the bed. A temporary room in the middle of a stranger’s apartment did not appeal.

‘Alexa, are there any decent, affordable rooms in Paris?’

‘ Oui ,’ replied Alexa.

I walked to the smart speaker in the kitchen and discovered Felix removing the bottle of champagne from the fridge.

‘Don’t look at me like that, Maisie. You’ve gone as white as a sheet.’

‘Stop walking into my house because it’s freaking me out. Anyway, I have to do some work.’ I still worried about the knife, and I still felt tetchy because there were no emails from Danny.

He laughed. ‘You asked Alexa about accommodation in Paris, so you weren’t thinking of work. Are you OK? Your face has turned a deep scarlet.’

I thought of him running past me. ‘Well, you’re one to talk, Mr Laine. Your face was very pink earlier when you ran past me and almost knocked me over. Drumroll, there was a hair out of place, and it will probably be on the local news. Nora has already logged it in her little black book. Who were you running from? Your behaviour was very suspicious.’

‘I wasn’t running.’ His eyes shone with amusement. ‘Why am I suspicious, pray? And where are the champagne glasses? First you thought I’d murdered Max and now this. You’re determined to label me as a murderer.’

‘What?’ I whispered, thinking of his photo in the potting shed. Did he know something? I reached into the cupboard, but the glasses were not there.

He opened the dishwasher to take out unwashed glasses and a knife. ‘Don’t you ever use this thing?’ It was the knife that went missing earlier in the morning. ‘Why on earth did you suck in your breath? I’m not going to stab you.’ He waved the knife around as he spoke.

Edging towards the back door, I asked, ‘Why did you go to Camellia’s earlier?’

‘I heard her cry out as I went past. You don’t think I…’ He let out a low, deep laugh. ‘Flowerpots full of cannabis plants were growing on the wall and one smashed when the police arrested her. Shards went into her leg. I ran off to get my lawyer because I know she had no idea what the plants were. Apparently, hippy campers had given her some when they were leaving.’ His face was close to mine and I observed his eye twitch a little. ‘They decided to take her to the hospital in the end.’

The story whirled in my head, facts spinning until I understood my mistake. ‘Oh, I see.’ A nervous laugh escaped from me. ‘Shall we finish the champagne?’

Felix sat beside me on the sofa. ‘And how about we sort out that accommodation for you in Paris? That’s if you can trust an alleged murderer.’ He chuckled.

‘Sorry about that…’ Why hadn’t I listened to Grant’s warnings?

‘Sorry I had to leave when you mentioned how much you miss Ada earlier. It must be tough living in her cottage. I wish she was still here too; you know. Sometimes, I don’t think she has passed away. She was such a mighty presence.’

‘Actually, I know this sounds stupid, but I think she’s still out there in Paris and is searching for Bella Caron. Something has happened and she can’t get home. I’ve been reading my aunt’s blog posts.’ Tears of frustration shone in my eyes. ‘No one believes me, but I need to know if she’s OK.’

He leaned forward and put his arm around me. ‘You miss her so much and can’t accept she’s gone. It was like that when my maman passed away. A trip to Paris will do you good. She loved it there and so will you. Paris is full of life and will lift your spirits.’

‘You’re right. Thanks for listening.’

He gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek, and his presence reminded me of my friendship with Grant. ‘Now make us both a cup of tea, switch on your laptop and I’ll show you an ideal apartment in Paris.’

When I returned with two mugs of tea, Felix pointed to the screen on my laptop. ‘Look. How do you like this room?’

There was a large room with a carved marble fireplace and renovated vintage greenish brown sofas with the thin, tall legs painted an antique white. I assumed it was Louis XV style but did not want to show my ignorance. An elaborate bronze mirror adorned the centre of the room and a couple of modern paintings dominated the walls. ‘Very nice but I can’t afford that hotel.’

‘It’s my father’s apartment. Dad’s signed up with Airbnb. He says it’s for the extra money, but I think he wants a distraction and some company. I know he hasn’t had any bookings yet because he left me in charge of the diary while he goes to his annual retreat in the Loire. The apartment in Paris is in a district north of the Louvre. As you’re a good friend of mine, he’ll discount the room and he’ll also pick you up at the airport. I’m not sure why he doesn’t come home to the UK, but he doesn’t really talk to me. I suppose his memories are in Paris and he loves the coffee, croissants and champagne.’

‘Sounds a wonderful life to me,’ I said, dreaming of staying in the apartment, and then assessing the meaning of good friend . A man’s best friend - that was me in Heatherbridge.

‘How about a nominal fifty euros per night? He usually charges two hundred, but you can be his first guest and write a review.’

The glamorous apartment was too perfect, and something made me a little hesitant. My budget would allow a couple of nights, but what was Felix’s father like? Everything happened so quickly. ‘That’s wonderful. Almost too good to be true. Can I have more time to decide and, more importantly, explore my bank balance?’

He breathed out a huge sigh. ‘It’s a ridiculously cheap price.’ A sharp tone in his voice put me on edge.

Hand in the air, I said, ‘No, no. I didn’t mean to appear ungrateful, but it’s such a big discount and I feel guilty.’

Now standing in the middle of my small lounge, Felix held out his arms but I was not ready to fall into them. ‘Oh Maisie, you’re such an honest soul.’ He held me at arm’s length. ‘You’re so much like your aunt. You even smell like her. I wonder…’

‘What?’ I asked, realising I was moving closer to him like a heat seeking missile.

‘Oh, nothing. I just wondered if you’d been down to her potting shed and found anything at all.’

‘Like what, exactly?’ Effects of the champagne had faded, and I felt cautious about revealing information.

‘Well, the other day I overheard Camellia say your aunt used to hide her stories for the Short Story Bash. Be careful of Camellia and Nora! And if you find any of Ada’s plans for the Short Story Bash then enter it in her honour or maybe write your own story. She had such fond memories of the two of you writing when you were young.’

‘Did she?’ It unsettled me when he knew more about my aunt’s opinions than I did. If only I had spent more time getting to know her. ‘I didn’t know she talked about our time together to other people. I am thinking of writing a story as it happens.’ I thought about the clues my aunt had left me in the potting shed. ‘A couple of ideas are bubbling, so I’ll take my notebook with me to Paris.’

‘Good. You need to go with an open mind to Paris, Maisie, and have fun. And treat yourself to some new clothes.’

‘I’m a newly qualified teacher with a cottage that eats up money.’ I said, crossing my arms to disguise the shapeless top I was wearing. ‘Anyway, I have other stuff. Don’t worry.’

‘I’ll ask Amelia if she has clothes. Designers send her great stuff, and she sells anything that doesn’t fit on eBay. She’d love to help you, I know it.’

He meant the larger clothes because I was rounder than perfect Amelia. Another signal I was simply not his type. Anyway, I noticed the creases on his forehead and at the side of his eyes when he sat close to me. We’d look ridiculous together! And though I was getting used to his company, he always managed to make me feel very, very young.