Page 31 of Murder in the Winter Woods (Julia Bird Mysteries #8)

When Julia, Tabitha and Jake arrived at Sean’s in the early evening, it was already well dark, and cold.

They were pleased to step inside the warm aromatic fug of the kitchen and unravel themselves from their coats and hats and scarves.

It was a hive of activity. Sean had a chicken roasting in the oven, glowing golden through the glass.

Laine and Jono were ‘on vegetable detail’ as Laine put it, their two dark heads bent over an iPhone propped up against a bottle of olive oil.

‘Smash the garlic with the side of the knife and add to the sizzling butter…’ Laine read out loud.

‘That sounds promising already,’ said Julia.

‘You’re so right. You can’t go wrong with butter and garlic. What are you making?’ asked Tabitha.

‘We’re trying a new spinach recipe,’ Jono said, pounding the side of his fist down hard on the knife, and releasing a strong smell of garlic. ‘Spinach with almonds, za’atar, red onion and lemon.’

‘Gosh, that sounds good.’

‘I’m putting the baby spuds on now,’ said Laine to Jono. ‘I think they’ll take about twenty minutes.’

‘OK, timing should be good with the chicken, right, Dad?’

Sean looked at his watch. ‘That’s right. Fifteen minutes or so and then it should sit for a while.’

‘Do you want me to set a timer for the potatoes, Lainie?’ Jono asked.

‘Nah, I’ll keep an eye on them.’

Julia caught Sean’s eye, and they smiled gently.

She knew that he, like her, was observing the easy back and forth between the two young people, the way they worked together and communicated gently, anticipated needs and passed utensils, and moved past and around each other at the stove in the little domestic ballet that was cooking together. And it made him happy to see.

‘Can I help at all?’ Julia asked.

‘And me!’ said Tabitha.

‘We’ve got it,’ said Jono cheerily. ‘You relax.’

‘All right then,’ Julia said, putting the apple crumble on the sideboard. ‘It’s still warm, and we can pop it in for a minute or two before we eat.’

‘Yum, apple crumble, that’s my favourite,’ said Sean.

‘Really? Well, that’s a lucky surprise, isn’t it? I had no idea,’ she said, giving him a friendly nudge in the ribs.

‘Of course you did. Thank you. Shall we leave the chefs to the kitchen?’

Sean, Julia and Tabitha went through to the sitting room, where a fire was alight. Jake and Leo were already lying in front of it, tummies to the heat source. A bottle of Pinot Noir stood on the sideboard, opened, but not yet poured.

‘Ah, well this is very nice and cosy,’ said Tabitha, standing in front of the fire. She stretched her arms over the dogs, reaching her palms towards its warmth. ‘Sunday night at mine is usually a boiled egg and an early night.’

‘Mine too, actually. Sometimes I push the boat out and open a tin of baked beans. But the kids wanted to cook, and the weeks are so busy with everyone working,’ said Sean.

‘The kids…’ said Julia teasingly. Jono and Laine were both well into their twenties, as was Julia’s Jess, but somehow, they were still ‘the kids’.

The doorbell rang, and they heard the hubbub of young voices in the kitchen. The dogs raised their heads, but decided not to involve themselves in the welcome. ‘Speaking of the kids, that’ll be Dylan,’ said Sean.

Dylan was Jess’s ex or maybe-sort-of boyfriend.

After their whirlwind romance on Jess’s trip to Berrywick for her father’s wedding, when Jess had gone home to Hong Kong, she and Dylan had decided that ‘a long-distance thing would be crazy’.

So said Jess, although Julia knew for a fact that the two of them kept in almost daily contact, and that Jess hadn’t dated anyone since she’d got back home.

It sounded very much like a ‘long-distance thing’ to Julia.

She felt her heart clench slightly at the thought of her Jess, so far away.

She’d like to have her daughter in the kitchen with the others, making the gravy, or tossing a salad.

Dylan’s shaggy head appeared at the door.

‘Hello, Dr O’Connor, hello, Julia, hello, Tabitha.

’ He was dressed, as usual, in a style that Julia thought of as urban lumberjack, in a green-and-black plaid shirt over a long-sleeved black sweater and black jeans.

He wore a fleece-lined suede jacket over the top of it all against the cold.

‘Thanks for the invitation, Dr O’Connor. ’

‘My pleasure, Dylan. Please call me Sean.’

Dylan laughed and shook his head. Sean O’Connor had been his family doctor forever. To call him by his first name was unthinkable, no matter how many times Sean invited him to do so.

‘I’ll go and see if I can help in the kitchen,’ he said, and disappeared from view.

‘He’s a good chap,’ said Sean, when the door closed behind Dylan. ‘What’s happening with him and Jess?’

‘Unclear,’ said Julia. ‘They obviously have some meaningful connection. She’s eager to get back to England for a visit, which makes me happy of course, but I think it’s as much to do with seeing Dylan as it is with me.’

‘It’s Jake,’ Tabitha said, deadpan. ‘He’s the favourite.’

‘Well, she’ll be here next year, around Easter it seems,’ Julia said. ‘And I have to say I think Dylan is a big drawcard.’

‘Ah, young romance,’ said Tabitha. ‘My niece is getting married next year, did I tell you?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘My sister Luanne’s eldest. I’ll be going to Ghana for the wedding. It’s been nearly five years since I was there.’

‘What a lovely thing to look forward to, Tabitha.’

‘It is. I’ll have to up my game, though. Those women know how to dress !’

‘Come on now, you can hold your own next to anyone. You always look great.’

It was true: Tabitha was stylish and striking, with her grey curls and bold accessories, and her youthful energy and kind manner.

Tabitha patted her stomach in a friendly way and said, ‘There’s the five pounds to lose still.’

Julia laughed at the mention of the five pounds, which had been an ongoing joke between them for decades, ‘Oh go on, you’re perfect as you are. Besides, those five pounds are very happy with their current situation.’

‘They’ve certainly been there a long time,’ Tabitha said.

‘Sitting tenants, I’d say…’

‘They’ve got squatter’s rights…’

Laine appeared at the door, interrupting the women’s laughter. ‘Supper’s ready,’ she said. ‘I checked the chicken, Sean – it’s perfectly cooked. And we popped the crumble into the oven, Julia.’

‘It’s nice having competent grown-up kids in the house, isn’t it?

’ Julia whispered to Sean, as they followed Laine into the kitchen.

The cooking mess had been cleared and the table set with the food in the middle.

The chicken shone golden in the centre. The spinach dish looked like something from a magazine – or a website or app, Julia supposed, seeing as that was where everyone got their recipes from these days.

Nuts and herbs and slices of red onion were scattered over its top, and the steam that rose from it carried the scent of exotic markets, where spices were piled in brass bowls.

It was a merry scene, hands passing plates and bowls around, murmurs of pleasure as the food was tasted, and snippets of conversations, updates on each other’s lives and shared laughter.

Laine was working part time at a design studio.

She liked it, but she wasn’t sure if it was what she wanted to do forever; the new road signs that Julia and the road safety committee had arranged would be going up next week; Jono was spending less time at reception at the vet, and more time handling the animals – he had been given a small pay rise; a virus seemed to be doing the rounds; Dora from the sweet shop had twisted her ankle and was hobbling about on one of those moonboots, poor thing; Tabitha had signed up for an online poetry workshop – she was nervous, but excited; the secret to good gravy was to make it over a low heat, and whisk constantly…

And so the conversation flowed.

Before long, the chicken was reduced to a carcass, and the spinach bowl had been scraped clean. Not even a single baby potato had survived to tell the tale.

‘Time for apple crumble,’ said Julia, pushing herself up from the table.

‘You sit,’ said Jono, waving his hand. ‘I’ll get it.’

He got to his feet. Julia sat down, thinking – not for the first time this evening – how different Jono was from the young man she had met less than a year ago.

That Jono had been lost, depressed, unmotivated and lonely, and now here he was with a job he enjoyed, a lovely girlfriend, and a plan to study further.

Most gratifying of all, he and his father, who had drifted apart almost to the point of estrangement, were close and loving.

When they’d finished the crumble – accompanied by a lake of thick yellow cream – Tabitha stifled a yawn. ‘Ooh, I’m so sorry. You know me, my candle flickers early.’

‘No need to apologise,’ said Sean. ‘I think we are all in the same boat. Well, not the young, I suspect. But the rest of us.’

Julia got to her feet. ‘Yes, it’s been a lovely evening, but I think Tabitha and I should be on our way.’

‘It is a Sunday night, after all. Work tomorrow. Another long day at the coal mines of the library, hey, Tabitha?’ joked Sean.

‘Yes indeed. But then I’m only working half a day on Tuesday, because I’m going to a funeral in the morning.’

‘Who died?’ asked Jono.

‘A woman called Lydia, who worked at the butcher’s,’ said Tabitha, who was at the door, taking her outdoor clothes off the hook, and layering up. ‘Poor thing died quite suddenly.’

‘I’ll be at the funeral too,’ said Sean. ‘She was a patient of mine.’

‘Was she now?’ Tabitha asked. ‘She always looked hale and hearty when she came into the library – apart from bunions, which she complained about endlessly. But I suppose you never can tell what’s going on inside. I heard she went to bed and just didn’t wake up.’

Sean didn’t say anything. There was an awkward moment when everyone remembered that of course, Sean couldn’t comment, being Lydia’s doctor.

‘I didn’t know her, really,’ said Julia, breaking the odd silence. ‘But I was sorry to hear about her death. Such a shock when someone goes unexpectedly.’

‘We really have to cherish every moment, don’t we?

’ said Laine. ‘Be kind, be loving, do our best for each other, because, I mean, who knows what might happen to us or to anyone else?’ Her words came out with real sincerity, but were so unexpected that they were met with an awkward silence.

‘Not to be weird or anything…’ she said, with an embarrassed laugh. Her face was flushed.

‘Not weird at all!’ said Julia, patting the girl’s hand. ‘You are absolutely right. Life is unpredictable and uncertain. None of us knows what’s coming our way.’

Julia, for one, could not have predicted how the next morning would go.