Page 71 of The Good Neighbour

Hugh frowned. “You sound very sure of yourself.”

Josh didn’t want Hugh to know he was in cahoots with the neighbours in solving this mystery. He would probably put a stop to it and Josh was invested now. Not to mention Mrs Wimpole and the Professor.

“The truth always comes out,” he said, weakly.

“Josh Winterton, may I introduce you to the real world?”

Josh stuck his tongue out. “So cynical.”

He crossed the room and grabbed his coat.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve been summoned by the real Mrs Wimpole,” he said. “You two can crack on with some rehearsals then we’ve got dinner plans, remember.”

“What does Mrs Wimpole want?”

The way Hugh had to know everything was adorable if a little wearing. Especially when Josh remained determined to fly under his radar.

“Something about future costume ideas,” he said. “I’m a slave to this act and you haven’t even thought it up yet. Progress, please.”

Hugh and Michael saluted.

Josh left them to it in the drawing room and bounded down the stairs. Then doubled back into the kitchen to grab a packet of Parkin’s favourite treats. It paid to keep that dog on side.

Once out on the cobbled street, the cold almost winded him. Josh charged up to Mrs Wimpole’s house in the centre of the crescent. Everything was quiet. Most sensible people were inside with nice food and a movie.

Ever since he’d received a mysterious WhatsApp from Mrs Wimpole requesting his presence, he’d been intrigued.

He bounced up her steps and rang the bell. Instantly, Parkin went berserk from inside the house.

Mrs Wimpole flung open the door. She was resplendent in a cherry-red cashmere sweater and tartan trousers. She always got it spot-on.

“Mrs W. You look gorgeous.”

She offered her cheek, which he kissed.

“You’re only saying it because it’s true,” she said with a gleam in her eye. “Come in.”

Mrs Wimpole’s house was perfection. Not that Josh expected anything less. Each time he visited, he noticed a new gorgeous piece of art or sculpture.

She had them on rotation. The rest of her collection was in storage or on loan to galleries across the world. Josh found that the height of luxury.

He allowed himself to be led upstairs to her drawing room where, unsurprisingly, the Professor waited for them. As did a tea tray complete with cakes.

“Coat off. Sit down,” Mrs Wimpole ordered, gesturing to a chair.

Josh did as he was told with a sense of being summoned to the headmistress’s office.

Surely, I’m not in any trouble.

“Now,” she said, “let’s get the business out of the way first. Then we’ll have a bite to eat.”

“You’re making me nervous,” Josh said, gripping the chair arm.

Mrs Wimpole and the Professor shared a knowing stare. The Professor sat forward.

“Thing is, we think we may have found something.”