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Later that afternoon, my legs strained to correct the wheelbarrow as I zigzagged down Meadow Lane for the umpteenth time. I was grinning with the joy of my new life. My aunt had lost her life in Paris and I had no right to feel so happy. She had told me she was going on a research trip to attend to unfinished business, but I had never thought to ask her for details. I still wondered why she had gone away earlier than planned and had not said goodbye to me or Felix.

Outside Heatherbridge Stores, I found the green Oxfam box with ‘books’ written on the side. The metal flap nipped my fingers each time I posted a book. A pang of sadness made me sigh. If only I had thought of using the wheelbarrow when Aunt Ada was alive, she would have adored the plan. Breathing in lungs full of humid air, I glanced up at the hills surrounding the village. My feet were so wet inside the wellies they felt as if I’d been paddling in the river, so it was time to hunt in the store for some ugly walking sandals.

Heatherbridge Stores sold a little of everything, and goods were piled high on mismatched shelves. A waft of over-ripe bananas blended into the scent of plastic and washing powder. I spotted a petite shopping trolley which would be perfect for transporting books and other goods. Black plastic unisex sandals did not tempt me, especially when an elderly man tried some on with his white socks.

A gaggle of pensioners dressed in walking gear observed me, while the leader of the pack seemed to scan for my accomplice.

‘Lovely day for an ice cream,’ I announced.

The crowd assessed me as if they had seen me on a wanted poster.

‘Everything OK?’ I asked, wondering if they had read the comments online.

‘Any news on the memorial service?’ asked the leader, removing his hat when he spoke.

‘Not yet. The solicitor says there is paperwork to sort out in France.’

The group waited for me to speak again.

‘I’ll let you know.’ Felix told me to end conversations about my aunt. ‘Righto, I’ll choose an ice-cream.’ It took two hands and lots of heaving to open the ice cream freezer.

When I stood at the cash desk, I removed a shiny new book from a wire bookstand and smoothed my hand over the glossy photograph on the cover of Daisy’s Secret. I was unable to get the Bella Mystery back on the stand, so the shop assistant whisked the book from me with one clean sweep. An old edition of the novel was on my aunt’s desk in the study. I would read it later.

Leaving my wheelbarrow parked at the side of Heatherbridge Stores, I ambled over the packhorse bridge, known locally as Back o’ Beyond Bridge, and perched on a tall stone wall. A tingle of cold hit me when I bit into the chocolate covered ice cream. Locals in the shop had rattled me, making me feel as if I was under suspicion. I should not have read the Facebook comments.

The beep of a car startled me as Felix drove past in his battered blue Volvo. In truth, I expected him to be driving a brand-new Mercedes or at least a Range Rover. Finishing the last of the cold, crunchy chocolate, I decided the beep of the horn was friendly. I took out my phone to send a message to Grant who wanted a daily update on my antics since I had arrived. I wrote, Just had a friendly beep from Felix.

Within seconds, he texted me. What’re you up to? SPILL!

I collected the wheelbarrow and then ran home, ignoring the phone beeping with messages.

Once inside Tanglewood Cottage, I let the Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ringtone play a few words before I answered. ‘Hello, Grant. Now’s not a good time. I’m busy with…’

‘Don’t you dare hang up!’ Grant’s voice was high pitched. I knew he would be emphasising words with his hands. ‘Shocking scenes have been whizzing through my mind. The horoscope I read to you was spot on. I told you tempted by the fruit of your neighbour meant passion and not the manky bowl of raspberries from the woman down the street. What have you been up to with Felix to make you pant like a dog running a marathon on a hot day?’

‘I need to catch my breath.’

Grant screamed and then there was a pause. ‘Don’t do this to me. I’ve got a date with a new bloke tonight and stress brings out my eczema.’

‘Got you!’ When I glanced out of the window to see if Felix’s car had returned home, I spied my aunt’s friends, Nora and Camellia walking down my path. ‘Speak soon, Grant. I’ve got visitors. Bye.’

There was a loud, assertive knock on the door.

Wearing a warm smile, I stepped outside and felt the rough concrete beneath my bare feet. Villagers surrounded the wheelbarrow stacked with books. There was an urgency to their rummaging as if they were in the sale of the century.

Camellia stepped forward, adjusting her floral dress. ‘We’re so pleased you haven’t thrown the books in the Oxfam box. After the bookshop closed and the mobile library was cut, we’ve all been a bit stuck. She pointed to a collection of coins and some five and ten pound notes on the doormat. We’ve put the money through the letter box as stated on the sign.’

With a smile still frozen on my face, I read the sign.

‘ Newly qualified teacher lives here and needs a drinks fund. Post all contributions through the letter box. Thank you .’

Closer inspection revealed there was a tiny illustration of me below the black writing. My face now ached with the forced smile. It must be Felix, I reflected and then protested, ‘I didn’t write the sign.’ My goodness, did this mean Felix was not quite as sweet as he had seemed earlier?

‘Oh dear!’ Now Nora folded her arms across her slight body. ‘Have we upset you?’ Then she gazed longingly at the books she had balanced on the garden wall.

I stepped back inside the hallway and felt the coins and notes at my feet. ‘Carry on, ladies! I just don’t want you to think I’ve got erm … a problem.’ I mimed a drinking action.

Nora patted the top of my hand. ‘I can’t blame any teacher for wanting a few drinks these days. Teachers need a medal. Ada was so proud of you when you qualified, and we all raised a cocktail to you.’

Tears emerged from nowhere. ‘That’s nice.’ My voice was a whisper.

Camellia hugged me gently. ‘It must be tough for you here alone when you’ve just lost your aunt in such terrible circumstances. We’ll bring back your aunt’s dog soon. Bronte will be company for you.’

‘I’d prefer Bronte to be here with me now. It’s what my Aunt Ada would have wanted.’

Camellia nodded. ‘Nora has become attached to the hound and needs time to get used to the separation.’

‘I suppose I can wait,’ I said, thinking of how Aunt Ada would have wanted to help Nora. ‘It’s still not real. I can’t believe Aunt Ada…’ I gratefully accepted a tissue from Nora. It smelt of peppermint and vanilla. ‘Do you think she’d tell me off for clearing out her books?’

Books clutched to her chest Camellia said, ‘Good grief, no. She always complained about her messy house. She got regular deliveries of books to read and used to share them.’

‘That’s OK then,’ I mumbled then blew my nose. ‘Goodnight.’

Camellia shoved her foot in the door. ‘I don’t know why she went alone to Paris in the springtime. She looked so sad when she was leaving. What a shock to read her name on the list of passengers feared drowned on the tour boat.’ Camellia beckoned for me to move closer. ‘Remember! Ada’s only presumed dead.’ She seemed to search my face for a clue.

Did Camellia know something? Without thinking, I asked, ‘Would you ladies like to come for afternoon tea on Tuesday?’ My aunt mentioned she often invited them to get an insight into the gossip.

‘We can have a good old natter. You can trust us.’ When Camellia scanned my creased blouse with her eyes, I felt as if an invisible barcode on my forehead would beep.

‘Don’t get rid of her precious Bella Mysteries,’ added Nora. ‘She might want them if she turns up again.’