Page 9

9

While she waited for Flo to bring her coffee, Julia wondered how Sean and Jono were getting on. Jono would probably still be asleep, if her own experience of young people was anything to go by. Tena.m. was practically the crack of dawn as far as they were concerned. It was fairly early for the Buttered Scone, too. Julia and Jake were some of only a few customers occupying tables.

It was starting to get dark when Sean and Jono had come to fetch Leo the previous evening, on their way back from London. They had both looked shattered after hours of driving, and who knew what other stresses in between. Julia had searched for echoes of Sean’s features in Jono, but concluded he must take after his mother. Slim and long-legged, with delicate features, where Sean was stockier and more rugged. Dark, where Sean was fair and freckled. He had Sean’s eyes, though, she saw. Almond-shaped, and a clear, bright blue, with finely arched brows. But his eyes lacked Sean’s characteristic twinkle, she noted sadly. The young man had a dull, worried air. He greeted her quietly and politely when introduced, but seemed withdrawn and uncommunicative, except when he met the dogs. When Jake and Leo came running out to greet them, he perked up noticeably, talking warmly and calmly to them, and rubbing their ears.

‘Thank you for looking after Leo,’ Sean had said, giving her a quick hug. It was the hug of a friend or even an acquaintance, without noticeable pressure or warmth. It made Julia wonder what, if anything, he had told Jono of their relationship. She knew that the father and son had barely spoken in the last year or two – Jono had been mysterious, painfully elusive – so it may be that he didn’t know his dad had a partner.

She’d offered them a cup of tea and a sandwich, but Sean had demurred, saying it had been a long day and there was still the unpacking to do. She saw them out. The boot of the car and most of the back seat were full with a backpack, a guitar, a box of books, some sort of electronic music desk with sliders and levers, old shopping bags overflowing with stuff, a pile of what looked like coats. Jono folded himself over and manoeuvred himself awkwardly into the passenger seat, one long leg on either side of a large djembe drum that stood in the footwell. That must have made for a fairly uncomfortable few hours from London. Julia hoped fervently he hadn’t tapped out a tune as they had sped along the M40, for that would surely have sent his father completely round the bend.

With Jono safely stowed, Sean had hugged her again, more warmly this time, and got into the driver’s seat. As he’d left, he had sent her a sort of meaningful look through the car window, a look that seemed to be trying to convey or explain something, but she’d had absolutely no idea what. He would no doubt phone when he had a moment, and tell her about everything that had happened in London.

‘Here you are, love,’ said Flo, appearing silently from behind Julia’s left shoulder and interrupting her recollections. ‘Here’s your coffee. Breakfast is on the way. And I’ll bring a little something for Mr Chocolate. Fancy a bit of bacon, Jake? ’

Jake wagged his tail, and in fact his entire bottom, to convey just how much he did indeed fancy a bit of bacon. If Jake looked a bit shifty and unsure of himself, it was because he was unused to being inside the Buttered Scone. Guests with dogs had always sat outside, on the few tables on the pavement, but after consideration and consultation, Flo had decided that the Buttered Scone was now a dog-friendly eatery. There was even a sign by the door – Dogs welcome with well-behaved owners! – and a dog menu, which consisted of a small serving of fancy dog biscuits, which Julia never ordered because Flo always brought Jake a little treat from the kitchen, a bit of sausage or a piece of bacon.

When she returned with Julia’s scrambled egg on toast, and Jake’s bit of bacon, Flo had a copy of the morning paper tucked under her arm. In a frankly impressive manoeuvre she put the plate in front of Julia without dropping the paper, placed the side plate with the bacon next to it, and delivered the paper with a flourish.

‘Have you seen this?’ she said.

Julia leaned over to have a look.

Was it MURDER On the Boards ? screamed the headline. And beneath it: Police investigate am-dram death, as a devastated Cotswold village waits for answers.

‘No, I haven’t seen it.’

‘Well, it seems the police are treating it as a murder. The newspaper says that they are investigating…’

The mobile phone vibrated in Julia’s pocket, interrupting Flo’s conversation. As she reached for it, Flo gave a nod and cock of the head, while pointing towards the paper with her thumb. Curiously, Julia knew exactly what this obscure sign language meant: ‘You take that call. Then look at the paper. Then we’ll chat.’

Julia did her own little hand movement, a squiggle, indicating, ‘Bill, please. ’

The name on the phone screen read: Jane .

Just yesterday, Julia had said, ‘Don’t hesitate to phone if there’s anything I can do,’ and she’d meant it, too, but she hadn’t anticipated the call coming quite so soon.

She answered quickly. ‘Hello, Jane, how are you? Are you all right?’

‘I’ve just seen the local paper.’ Jane sounded old and shaken.

‘I haven’t read it. I’ve only seen the headline.’

‘They are saying that maybe Graham’s death wasn’t an accident. They’re saying it might be…it might be murder.’

Instinctively, Julia slipped into her calm, professional social worker voice. ‘I’m afraid that they see it that way, Jane. It was a prop gun. Roger Grave checked that it was empty. But someone must have loaded it. The police can’t see any other explanation.’

‘It says in the paper that they are interviewing people!’ Jane said this like it was the most aberrant behaviour that the police could possibly be indulging in.

‘Yes, of course they are,’ soothed Julia. ‘They need to know what happened. They are speaking to everyone in the cast and crew, starting with anyone who had something to do with the gun. They’ve spoken to me and Tabitha. And to Roger Grave.’

‘And to Oscar.’

‘Yes, of course to Oscar, because he was the one who was, um, holding the gun at the time. When it fired.’

‘But Oscar…It’s just that…’ Jane paused on the other end of the line. ‘I hope you won’t take what I said yesterday the wrong way. About Oscar, I mean. Oscar and me. Our old connection. Him supporting me and all that.’

‘Yes, you never said what he was supporting you with?’

‘Nothing!’ Jane paused for a second, and then gave a small laugh. ‘That’s the thing. He wasn’t supporting me with anything in particular. Just…You know…He’s been there…Listen to me now, talking nonsense. I have been so worked up and so tired. Like yesterday, Julia, I was just rambling on. I said too much. I don’t want you to take it out of context, is all I meant. I didn’t know it was a murder investigation. Oscar would never do anything bad. He’s the gentlest man. The gentlest.’

Jane finally stopped her rambling, ending with a strangled sob, at odds with the earlier laugh. The poor woman was really beside herself.

‘It’s all right Jane, it’s all right.’ Julia spoke in her most calming voice. ‘Don’t you worry about them getting the wrong idea about Oscar. I know DI Gibson well. She’s smart. And thorough. She’s not going to go after the wrong man. And there’s the forensics, which are very sophisticated these days. She and her team will find out what happened. You rest and spend time with your family, and let’s leave the investigation to the police, shall we?’

‘I hope people don’t start talking about this,’ said Jane. ‘Gossiping about me. And Oscar. And, well, everyone.’

Julia had to bite back a retort. Jane knew Berrywick better than Julia did, and the chances that people would not gossip were about zero to nothing. This would be the talk of the town for the foreseeable future. But Julia knew how much other people’s opinions meant to Jane, so she held her tongue.

‘All you can do at this point is trust the police to solve this quickly,’ she said.

‘Yes. Yes. You’re right. The police will make sense of it all. Thank you, Julia. Thank you.’

Julia ate her scrambled egg. Unfortunately, it had cooled rather while she listened to Jane’s strange declarations. Julia liked her food piping hot, as a rule. Jake had no complaints about the bacon. He’d never met a rasher he didn’t like, and he snapped this one from her fingers, swallowing it in one go. Julia looked around the Buttered Scone, which was filling up. It was mostly regulars at that hour. The tourists tended to come in a little later, for lunch. She spotted Johnny Blunt, with his blue knitted cap atop his whiskery eyebrows. There was Nicky with another young mum, taking a breather while the little ones were at school. There were one or two others she recognised, and exchanged smiles and nods with. It was nice to have a regular breakfast spot, and to be a regular herself. She noted again how lucky she’d been to end up in Berrywick when her marriage had ended, and her career at the same time.

‘I suppose we’d better be going,’ she said to Jake. She put a twenty-pound note on the saucer with the bill. ‘We can’t be sitting here all day. We’ve got lots to do.’

It wasn’t entirely true; there were bits and pieces of house and garden maintenance to do, but nothing pressing. But she got up nonetheless.

Sitting at an outside table was Pippa, the guide dog trainer in whose care Jake had been before it became apparent that he wasn’t cut out for life as a service dog. He had turned out to be an excellent companion to Julia, though. A service of its own kind, in a way.

Pippa had three lovely Labrador puppies on leads sniffing around the table. The Buttered Scone may now have had a dog-friendly policy, but Pippa must have thought that bringing three puppies inside would be pushing it.

‘Oh, look at them! How dear! I didn’t know you had puppies again?’

‘I’m a sucker for them,’ said Pippa, with a rueful grin and a roll of her eyes. ‘I don’t know why. They are a lot of work, and after the last lot, I said I’d stop. I swore I’d never do it again.’

There was an awkward moment while they both recollected that her last lot had included Jake, and that he had been known as the Naughtiest Puppy in Berrywick and had nearly driven Pippa mad before Julia had taken him off her hands. Neither of them referred to that, but they both laughed.

‘Anyway, I relented. And here they are, the darlings. I’ve only had them a week or so, and look how good they are.’

Jake sniffed at the puppies, his tail going like a windscreen wiper in a rainstorm.

‘Ah, isn’t he sweet with them?’ Pippa said. ‘Sit for a minute, it’ll be good for them to be with another dog. Cup of tea?’

Julia refused a drink but sat down. She reached down to stroke the head and ears of the nearest puppy. It was delightfully warm and silky under her hand.

‘I thought I’d go and visit poor Jane this afternoon,’ said Pippa. ‘Terrible business, isn’t it?’

‘It really is awful. I saw her yesterday; Tabitha and I dropped by with a loaf, but didn’t stay. But I think she appreciated the pop-in. I’m sure she would be pleased to see you. Do you know her other than through book club?’

‘We’re not close, but I’ve known her for years. She was friends with my aunt Margaret, my mother’s youngest sister. Jane was always very pretty. I would remember her better than she would remember me, from that time, of course. She and Margaret were in their final year at school and I thought they were very glam and grown-up. Margaret moved away for a long time and so they drifted apart, but I remember Jane so clearly from those days.’

‘That’s a strange coincidence. She told me she and Oscar were at school together too, and of course Oscar is the one who…’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Pippa cut in, nodding. ‘Oscar’s the one she went out with at high school. We all thought that they would get married until Graham came along. It was all very sudden.’

‘Oh?’ Julia was stunned. That was not at all how she had planned to end the sentence, although she supposed it did tally with what Jane had said the day before, about choosing Graham.She paused. ‘That must have been very upsetting for Oscar. ’

‘He was devastated,’ said Pippa, matter-of-factly.

‘I see,’ said Julia, slowly, trying to decide if this was important, all these years later.

‘Oh, don’t read anything into this. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s all ancient history. And I don’t mean to gossip, especially under these awful circumstances.’

Pippa looked quite shamefaced. It was true, she wasn’t a gossip. There were some world champion gossips in Berrywick, and no one ever counted Pippa amongst them.

‘Please forget that I said anything,’ said Pippa. ‘People might jump to conclusions, you know.’

‘Of course,’ said Julia, flapping her hand, ushering the thought away as if it were a bothersome insect. ‘Out of my head already! Let’s talk about something else. Tell me all about these puppies.’