Next Door to Murder (2 page)

‘Well, far be it from me to heap coals, but I
was
wondering—'

‘When, if ever, you were going to hear from me? It is an
occasional
series, Barnie. I always stressed that. I might abandon you at any time to do another bio.'

‘If that's on the cards, fair enough; but until you take that decision . . . Look, I know there were hiccups over the last venture, but it's behind you now.'

‘Not till it's in print, it isn't.'

‘Well, the hiccups must be, surely. The series is very popular, you know; I keep getting hints from local businesses that they wouldn't be averse to some publicity. In fact, quite a queue is forming.'

‘I'm flattered but surprised, considering each one so far has turned up something untoward. Or do they subscribe to there being no such thing as bad publicity?'

‘Whatever. How about it, Rona? Are you prepared to get down to a new one?'

She sighed. ‘I suppose I must. The trouble is, I can't get up any enthusiasm.'

‘Work at it,' he said briskly. ‘Call in next time you're passing, and I'll give you a list of those who've approached me. One of them might provide the necessary spark.'

‘Will do,' she said.

The Gallery Café was approached by a wrought-iron staircase leading to a walkway above the shops on Guild Street, the main shopping area. Enclosed by ornate black railings, the parade also included a couple of boutiques and galleries, but the café held pride of place since, like Willows' Fine Furniture beneath it, it rounded the corner into Fullers Walk, thus offering its patrons a choice of views over the busy thoroughfare. It was a popular eating place, and Rona, arriving just before one o'clock, was not surprised to find all the tables occupied.

She hesitated, wondering whether, since Lindsey's lunch hour was limited, to wait for her outside and try somewhere else, and was on the point of doing so when her name was called, and she turned to see her friends Georgia Kingston and Hilary Grant waving at her.

‘We've finished, Rona – you can have our table.'

Rona walked thankfully over to them, Gus at her heels, and as she pulled out a vacant chair, he went to his accustomed place under the table. ‘Thanks; I'm meeting Lindsey, and was about to give up.'

‘We're just waiting for the bill,' Hilary said. ‘Haven't seen you lately; where did you get that fabulous tan?'

‘In Greece; we had four weeks there, and it was sheer heaven.'

‘Lucky you! We can't get away till September, thanks to Simon's deadline.' Simon Grant was an artist friend of Max's.

‘How's your series on family businesses going?' Georgia enquired. ‘I haven't seen any for a while.'

‘We're holding the Curzon one, to tie in with their anniversary.'

‘So who's your next prospect?'

Rona grimaced. ‘You're as bad as my editor!'

‘You said some time ago that the Willows were on your list, and asked me not to mention it till you'd approached them.'

‘So I did,' Rona remembered. ‘And you told me that in your youth, you went out with Julian.'

‘Only for a month or two!' Georgia protested. ‘But look – if you want an intro or anything, why don't I ask him and his wife to dinner with you and Max? Would that break the ice?'

Rona hesitated. Was she ready to plunge back into work? But wasn't that just what Lindsey and Barnie, not to mention Max, had been urging her to do?

‘Tell you what,' Georgia said, gathering up her shopping as the waitress at last brought their bill, ‘I'll fix it anyway, and leave it to you whether or not to approach him.'

‘That's good of you, Georgie. Thanks.'

‘I'll ring you and suggest a few dates. Enjoy your lunch.'

Lindsey arrived minutes later. ‘Sorry, there was a phone call just as I was leaving. Well done, getting a window table.'

‘I was in luck – Georgia and Hilary were about to leave. I've ordered wine – house white; we usually enjoy it, and it's light for lunchtime.'

‘Fine, though a double G and T wouldn't go amiss.'

‘You'd fall asleep at your desk! So – what's the matter?'

‘Dominic, what else? Ro, I haven't heard from him for a
month
!'

‘Then write him off,' Rona said briskly. ‘You still have Jonathan and Hugh.' Jonathan Hurst, a fellow partner at Chase Mortimer, was another of Lindsey's admirers.

‘Neither of them can hold a candle to Dominic.'

‘Not having a private plane or chauffeur-driven Daimler?'

‘Don't be vile; you know quite well what I mean.'

Rona passed her the menu. ‘We'd better decide what to eat. If we don't order it when the wine comes, it could be a long wait.'

They settled on quiche and a side salad, and when the order had been given and the wine poured, Rona asked, ‘Seriously, are you still stringing those two along?'

‘I wouldn't be, if Dominic was more reliable.'

‘Perhaps he's out of the country.'

‘More than likely, but he could have
told
me.'

‘Linz, he's been like this from the start. Either it doesn't occur to him to inform you of his plans, or he considers them none of your business. You have to take it or leave it. And – admit it – that's part of his attraction.'

Lindsey sighed and sipped her wine. ‘I bet bloody Carla knows his every move.'

Carla Deighton was Frayne's personal assistant. Cool and glamorous, she was bitterly resented by Lindsey.

‘It's her business to. Now, snap out of it, there's a love. Any day now you'll get a phone call, and life will be rosy again – provided you don't let him know you've been fretting. If you do, you can kiss him goodbye.'

‘Auntie Rona's Advice Column,' Lindsey said sourly. She straightened. ‘Sorry. How about you, anyway? You still haven't settled back to work?'

‘No, but as it happens Georgia reminded me just now that I'd been considering the Willows.' She tilted her head downwards, in the direction of the furniture emporium beneath them. ‘She offered to invite us to dinner with Julian and his wife, so I'd have the chance to sound him out.'

‘Good. That'll get you back on track. So what else is new? We've not really caught up since you came back from holiday.'

‘Nothing much; it's been a question of ploughing through all the mail, phone calls and emails. The only bit of news, for what it's worth, is that the house next door has been let again. I think it's an elderly couple this time.'

Lindsey nodded absently. ‘Have you spoken to Mum or Pops since you got back?'

‘Yes, both of them. Pops was telling me about Catherine's little granddaughter.'

The baby's birth had disrupted a family lunch at Easter.

‘He's quite besotted with her,' Lindsey confirmed.

They leaned back in their chairs as the quiches and salads were placed in front of them.

‘He suggested we might like to go to Catherine's one weekend, when Daniel and Jenny are over,' Rona added.

‘I hope I'm not included in the invitation. Babies do nothing for me.' Lindsey unfolded her napkin, then looked up as a thought struck her. ‘They won't be at our lunch, will they?'

It was the twins' birthday the following Saturday, and there was to be a celebration meal at the Clarendon Hotel.

‘No, it's immediate family only,' Rona said. ‘Catherine's going over to Cricklehurst – largely out of tact, I suspect, since Mum wouldn't have come otherwise.' Although their parents were now on reasonable terms, meetings between Avril and her replacement were strained.

Lindsey reached for the salad dressing. ‘What are you doing the rest of Saturday?'

‘Max is taking me to the theatre. We'll have supper after, and spend the night at the Argyll.'

‘Very nice too. What are you seeing?'

‘
The Sound of Music
. It'll be interesting to see the new production, after all the publicity. Remember Mum taking us to the film, when we were little?' She topped up their glasses. ‘How about you? What have you planned?'

‘Hugh's taking me out. Dinner somewhere, I think, though I told him I wouldn't be hungry, after a large lunch.'

‘Very gracious of you.'

‘Well, it's true.' She paused. ‘It'll be like old times, spending my birthday with him.'

‘You realize you're on dangerous ground?'

‘He knows the position.'

‘Does he know about Dominic?'

‘There's not much to know,' Lindsey said bitterly. ‘Anyway, enough of that; tell me about Greece. Where did you stay?'

Forty minutes later, as they emerged on to Guild Street, Rona said suddenly, ‘Let's have a look round Willows'.'

‘Thinking of splurging on a three-piece suite?'

‘No chance, and if we were, I doubt we could afford their prices. I just want a look round, to get a feel for the place.'

‘You're seriously considering them, then?'

‘Linz, this has all come up in the last hour. I'm weighing possibilities, that's all.'

‘Won't it look odd if you come across Julian, then meet him again at the Kingstons'?'

‘He won't be there. None of the family work on the shop floor.'

‘Too grand, I suppose,' Lindsey said with a sniff.

‘Georgia says there's a title in their ancestry, which is why they give themselves airs.'

Lindsey snorted. ‘And further back, a barrow-boy, so the story goes. Bet they don't dwell on that.'

‘Actually, I think they're quite proud of it.'

‘Inverse as well as actual snobbery? You'll be walking on eggshells.'

‘Nonsense, it'll be fine. I barely know Julian and have never met his wife, but they can't be that bad if they're friends of Patrick and Georgia. Let's suss it out. Gus won't be welcome, though; we'd better leave him here.'

She tied his lead to some railings, gave him a pat, and, pushing open the swing door, they went inside, to be immediately engulfed in opulence. A thick carpet covered the floor, low music played in the background, and the coolness of circulating air was balm after the heat outside. On all sides, stretching back into the interior, were room settings of exquisite furniture, gleaming richly in the soft lights. Dining tables in modern or reproduction styles were set with delicate china – some of it Curzon, Rona noted; beds were made up with exotic spreads or duvets and piled high with plump, colour-coordinated cushions, while in living-room settings, leather sofas and low, lamp-lit tables suggested the ultimate in comfortable relaxation.

‘Would you like any help, ladies?' enquired a smooth voice, and they turned to find a young man smiling at them.

‘We're just looking, thank you,' Rona said.

‘Fine; but should you need any information on prices or availability, please don't hesitate to ask.'

He moved away, leaving them to their browsing.

‘It makes me want to throw everything out, and start again,' Lindsey said.

‘That's a bit extreme, isn't it?'

‘Seriously, Ro, I'm realizing that my tastes have changed. The furniture in the flat is what Hugh and I chose together, and split between us when we divorced. I can still picture him sitting in the chairs, which can be disconcerting when I'm with Jonathan. The idea of updating hadn't occurred to me, but it's very tempting.'

‘Well, go slowly, for goodness' sake – a chair or table at a time.'

‘But that could end up looking bitty. Better, surely, to take advice from an interior decorator or someone?'

‘It would double your expenses, for a start.'

Lindsey sighed. ‘No doubt you're right.' She glanced at her watch. ‘I must be getting back; my lunch hour's nearly up.'

‘Your lunch hour-and-a-half, you mean.'

‘Very funny.'

With a noncommittal smile at the hovering assistant, they made their way outside, where the hot air met them like a suffocating blanket.

‘Max is thinking of air con for the studio,' Rona remarked, as she untied Gus from his railing.

‘I don't blame him; we couldn't survive in the office without it.' They exchanged a quick kiss. ‘See you on Saturday,' Lindsey said, and, crossing Fullers Walk, she continued along Guild Street in the direction of Chase Mortimer.

Rona rounded the corner into the side street, glancing in Willows' windows as she went. Fullers Walk remained commercial for about a third of its length, accommodating, beyond Willows', a florist's, a bakery, a delicatessen and several smaller outlets, before the shops tailed off to give way to residential houses. Two roads led off it: halfway down on the left, Dean's Crescent curved back towards the eastern end of Guild Street, and, having crossed it, became Dean's Crescent North, where Max had his cottage; while a hundred yards farther on, the Walk was bisected by Lightbourne Avenue, the road in which they lived.

As she walked home, Rona's mind was on the possibilities that had opened up, and she'd taken out her key before she realized there was someone in the garden of the house next door.

She paused and, glancing over the low wall, saw an elderly couple standing at the foot of the steps, the door of the house open behind them. They were examining a rather tired-looking plant in a pot, but, sensing Rona's presence, they looked up enquiringly.

‘Good afternoon,' she said. ‘I'm Rona Parish, and I live next door.'

‘Oh – how do you do?' They moved uncertainly forward, and the man added, ‘Barbara and Keith Franks.'

He had, Rona noted, a slight transatlantic accent.

‘Are you settling in all right?'

His wife gave a nervous smile. ‘There's a lot of sorting out to do.'

‘You've come from abroad?'

‘Yes, Canada. We're actually English, but we've lived over there for some time.'