Page 5

My eyes flicked open when I heard knocking on the front door. Sunlight peeped through the blinds, and it took a few moments to realise I was in Tanglewood Cottage. Bang, bang, bang. It sounded like someone was barging into the front door with a giant boulder. Who was it? ‘Aunt Ada!’ Hope fluttered in my stomach.

Searching for my dressing gown, I threw piles of clothes into a heap and settled on the Christmas pyjamas I’d found stuffed at the back of the wardrobe. The knocking persisted. Please let it be Aunt Ada. Dashing towards the front door, I missed the last couple of steps but steadied myself with the handrail. ‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ I shouted, expecting to find my aunt standing on the doorstep.

A beaming postman, who resembled the friendliest Father Christmas I’d ever seen, greeted me. ‘Morning! Where’s the lady that lives here?’ He handed over a large box. His kind blue eyes watched me. ‘She struggled to hear sometimes.’

My throat contracted. ‘She’s erm missing - presumed dead.’ A tear escaped.

‘Presumed dead?’ he asked.

‘She was on the tour boat in Paris. It’s been on the news.’

‘My goodness, I didn’t know because I’ve been off work for four months, travelling around Africa.’ He handed me a neatly folded tissue from a red packet. ‘I’m so sorry. She always greeted me with a big smile when I handed over her many parcels and asked about my grandchildren. Such a loss.’ He paused for a couple of beats and added. ‘Don’t give up hope. You never know.’

Dabbing my face with the tissue, I thought of the many parcels and wondered if any of them were from Paris. It was a long shot, but I asked, ‘Did she ever get parcels from Paris?’

He paused to think. ‘Erm. Let’s see. The post was mainly from the UK. She said the last signed for letter was her passport. But I think she did get a couple of letters and parcels from Paris. Yes. Why?’

Oh no, now I was making him suspicious and had to think of something in case Camellia and Nora interrogated him. ‘I’m just trying to get her things in order and make sure everyone knows what’s happened to her.’

‘I see.’

‘Do you know who sent them, by any chance?’ I asked.

‘Afraid not, love. She never said anything about it.’ He tapped my arm. ‘I’m so sorry. She was a lovely lady who was always happy.’

‘Always happy,’ I repeated, thinking of her smile.

‘Apart from the last time I saw her when she did seem a little withdrawn. But we all have our off days. Cheerio, love.’ He walked towards the garden gate and raised his hand.

Before I could call the postman back, Felix arrived with a smile befitting a toothpaste advertisement. ‘Good morning! Here’re the Bella Mystery books you lent me.’ My aunt’s books had been crammed into a large plastic container. The corner of his mouth shot upwards when he spotted the dog wearing a Christmas hat motif on my T-shirt. ‘Oh, and happy Christmas! Keep the money. Let’s call it your Christmas box, shall we?’

I tried to put the conversation with the postman to the back of my mind because I didn’t want to get upset in front of Felix. I changed the subject. ‘Wasn’t it you who wrote the sign requesting money for my drinks fund?’

‘No, it wasn’t! It’s a mystery. You’ll have to get a nice pair of Miss Marple brogues and solve the case.’ He rested his finger on the dimple in his chin and smiled.

He had no idea how much I wanted to solve my aunt’s disappearance, but I feared this was not the right time to ask more questions. ‘I’ll see what I can find in my dressing up box.’

His eyebrow crept up to his hairline, but he turned when he heard heels clipping on the pavement.

Having escaped from the pages of Hello! , Amelia glided towards us, wearing beige linen trousers and a matching blouse. ‘Hope we didn’t keep you awake last night.’ She looked me up and down like a security guard completing a risk assessment. ‘Are you ill? Poor you, sweetie.’ She kissed me on the side of my face, and I felt her lipstick attach to my face like glue. Snapping open her classic Chanel bag Amelia said, ‘Treat yourself at Heatherbridge Royal Spa. Here’s a token for you.’

‘Maisie doesn’t need spa treatments. She has a natural look and plenty of her own hair.’ He winked at me.

‘No thank you,’ I protested.

Amelia patted her bag. ‘OK. Maisie, let me know if you change your mind.’ When she air kissed Felix, her heady perfume found its way up my nose and made me sneeze.

‘Make yourself a hot toddy. We must do lunch next time I’m here,’ suggested Amelia, holding out her perfect pink and black striped nails. ‘We could get our nails done.’

‘Will do,’ I enthused, hiding my hands.

‘Are you OK?’ Felix stepped towards me and scrutinised my face.

‘The postman was talking about my aunt, and it upset me. He said she wasn’t herself the last time he spoke to her.’

‘She always seemed fine to me.’ Felix smiled.

Though I nodded, I realised Felix was often in his own world and probably not very perceptive. I had to rephrase the question in case it prompted a memory. ‘Did she seem worried about going to Paris?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘She was on top form.’ Amelia opened her phone and started to scroll through her Instagram account. ‘Look! Here’s a photo of the cocktail she made me the week before she left when we were at Felix’s place. She mixed it to match my outfit and called it Blackberry Kiss. Great evening.’

I glanced at a purple cocktail in a large vintage glass, wishing I had experienced one of her cocktail parties. ‘Looks delicious.’

‘It was divine.’ Grabbing one of Felix’s biceps, Amelia fanned herself with her other hand. ‘Felix, let me know in advance when you need to hire me. I can’t believe I get paid for the work. Ciao .’ She glided towards her black sports car and waved without turning to face us.

‘Goodbye, Maisie.’ Felix studied me with concern. ‘Take care of yourself. You know, Ada wouldn’t want you to be miserable.’

After the heavy door of Tanglewood Cottage shut, I checked myself out in the hall mirror, and a grown-up Orphan Annie stared back at me with a blotchy face. To complete the picture a massive spot had decided to make a grand appearance on my chin. ‘Who cares?’ I mumbled to myself, knowing I needed to smarten up and look like I owned the cottage rather than squatting in it. I made my way up the uneven staircase to my attic room and chose a pair of navy blue shorts and a vest top. My thoughts drifted back to Amelia’s insistence Aunt Ada had been fine. Felix had been distracted when I asked the question. Not knowing what to conclude, I texted Grant to distract myself and give my mind time to work through their comments.

How was the hot date? x

Waiting for a response from Grant, I shoved bread in the toaster, made instant coffee and then ripped open the parcel. Brand new shiny books screamed at me. A compliments slip from the author fell out of the parcel and the friendly tone made me happy.

Dearest Ada,

Many thanks for agreeing to review my novel. Reviews are like gold dust these days, so I’m excited to get your feedback. You are a gem.

Susie

She really had been a gem ; always kind to everyone and pleased to offer support. Had her kindness led her to Paris to help an author in need? My aunt’s presence seemed to be everywhere from the note to the lovely memories people had of her. How could such a mighty presence be wiped out?

A beep alerted me to a message from Grant. Have you sorted out the cottage yet? I want to visit you in the summer, and I may bring a guest. Chris is the ONE! Gx

*

I toured my cottage. The place was more spacious now, but I needed to build shelves for the leaning tower of books. At that moment, I missed Matt as he would have pushed me to get on with the task because he hated mess. It was not so long ago he had sent texts that made me blush at work, and I could not wait to get home. Connie broke the spell with eyes the colour of the Mediterranean. Matt would have mocked my suspicions about my aunt’s disappearance. With one swipe I deleted him from my phone. Anxiety about Aunt Ada twisted around in my head, so it was best to do something practical.

Instructions to construct the bookshelves were simple, and there were very few parts, so I managed the task in no time. Standing back, I punched the air with delight. ‘I don’t need Matt.’ Having dusted the Bella Mystery books, I arranged them on the shelves, but the spines were a little faded with age. When I pushed back the books to straighten them, they fell off and some slid down the back of the shelf.

A text arrived on my phone. Attach the metal brackets then screw the shelves to the wall. Dad x

Having attached the brackets to the shelves I attempted to drill the wall, but the drill bit broke off. After the third attempt, I searched for a solution on YouTube. The serious man on the screen talked about attaching an envelope below the drilling to collect the dust, so I did that. The smell of smoke from the drilling did not seem right.

I padded towards the kitchen for a coffee break, but the back door started to open.

Felix stood on the doorstep. Without invitation, he walked in and closed the door.

‘Do you need help?’, he demanded. There were even more lines on his face and his eyes seemed to have narrowed since the morning.

I took a deep breath and resisted pushing his pointing finger out of the way. ‘What the hell’re you doing with a key? Didn’t you think to knock?’

‘I did knock. The drilling went on so long I thought you were tunnelling your way out of the cottage, so I came to help the great escape.’

‘You’ve no right to just walk in my house. How many times have you been in here?’ I heard my voice bellow in the corridor.

He stared at me. ‘This is the first time. You also have my key. All the neighbours here keep keys just in case. You stopped bloody drilling and I got concerned about you. I work from home and haven’t been able to concentrate all morning.’ His tone lowered and sounded as if it had been coated in deep, dark chocolate again. ‘Give me that and let me have a go.’

Taking the drill from me, he made his way into the dining room. He laughed. ‘Are you expecting some letters?’

‘The envelopes catch the dust. Go on then, Mr Know-it-all,’ I stood back then smirked when he encountered the same problem. While he drilled, I texted my dad to find out the solution. ‘I need a masonry drill and some rawlplugs. I realised just now.’

‘Maybe the pixies will leave the rawlplugs in the little envelopes.’ Laughter smoothed out his face. ‘Right, I must go and get back to my work. I have a deadline.’

‘I thought you worked in the studio.’

‘Only for part of my job.’

‘What do you do?’ I asked.

There was no answer.

I grabbed the opportunity to fill the silence. ‘Would you like to come for tea tonight? Nothing special. I’d like to apologise for the noise.’ And maybe, just maybe a few glasses of wine would loosen his tongue if there was anything he had noticed about my aunt.

He screwed up his face. ‘I can’t, sorry. I have deadlines to meet. I’ll be burning the midnight oil and Amelia is bringing me a takeaway on her way to Leeds. I’d love to have dinner another evening.’

Imagining a candle lit dinner, I panicked. ‘Of course. It wouldn’t have been anything special. I just fancied chatting about my aunt. Never mind.’ I wanted to kick myself to stop the nervous babble.

When he departed immediately, I wished it possible to press delete on the entire moment.

To calm me down, I considered a photo of my aunt on the kitchen dresser. She was standing outside her potting shed in the very same hat I had worn only yesterday. The photo frame was unfamiliar, and I was sure it had not been there before. My goodness, my mind was playing tricks on me now. My mother was right about me spending too much time alone.