The Magic of Christmas - Trisha Ashley 8 стр.


Ive told you repeatedly that he was just comforting me and you could have been doing that, if Id been able to get hold of you! But I conceived Jasper practically as soon as wed got married and I never even looked at Nick in that way or any other man! No, theres another obvious reason why both you and Jasper look like Pharamonds, only youd rather believe ill of me than your mother!

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Well leave my mother out of this, he said, that ugly look in his eyes. But the sooner you clear out, the better. Turning back towards his board he said dismissively, Fetch me a beer out will you? Theres some in the fridge.

Fetch it yourself. I didnt come out here to wait on you. Oh, and heres a restaurant bill from Leila. I only hope the meal was worth it!

What? He swung round and snatched it from me, glanced at it and then looked up suspiciously. Where did you get this?

Nick called by early this morning. You left Leilas without paying the bill, and she wants her money.

Oh, I dont think this is Leilas idea, he said, crumpling the bill into a ball and tossing it into a corner. Ive already paid her in kind. Bed and board. So now you know, and presumably Nick also knows.

Suspects, perhaps but Leila cant possibly be Dark Heart! I blurted.

He took a menacing step towards me. What do you know about Dark Heart?

I found a bit of a note in your pocket when I was sorting the washing, but it didnt sound like Leila, I said, standing my ground.

It isnt, he said shortly. Its someone else someone more conveniently local, whos prepared to please me in ways you wouldnt have, even if Id asked, dearest wife.

Is it someone I know, Tom? And Leila was that a one-off? She isnt the woman youve been having an affair with since before Jasper was ill, is she?

He didnt reply, just smiled rather unpleasantly. I hoped he hadnt been running two of them in tandem even then. But someone local who could it be?

Oh God, he hadnt got drunk and started an affair with that drippy girl who played the electric violin and sang in the Mummers, had he? Id noticed she hadnt been able to look me in the eye for months, but thought shed maybe been one of his one-night flings. Evidently, he wasnt going to tell me anyway.

I thought of something else. Wheres your van?

It broke down in a lay-by about twenty miles away. I had to get the garage to bring it in think the gearboxs had it. Now, any more questions? Only I need to finish this board because Im off down to Cornwall at the weekend to deliver it, assuming the vans fixed by then.

I stared at him, thinking how normal a monster could look.

If you arent leaving immediately, you could make yourself useful and fetch that beer, he suggested.

Fetch it yourself! Im going for a walk in the woods to think all this over, and then later Ive got a Mystery Play Committee meeting, the first of the year, I said, and saw a flash of anger in his eyes.

As I left I heard the music restart, and the hissing of the spray.

Outside I practically fell over Polly Darke, our local purveyor of stirring Regency romances and I use the term Regency very loosely, since she never let historical facts come between her and the story. She gave me one of them once and I noticed the words feisty and lusty appeared on practically every page to describe the heroine and hero.

And now I came to think of it, she never let facts come between her and a modern story either, since she was always snooping about under one pretext or another, and twisting things she saw and heard into malicious gossip. Divorced, she had lived in her hacienda-style bungalow between Middlemoss and Mossedge for several years, and Im sure was convinced that she was accepted everywhere as a local.

While I didnt suppose she could have heard anything much through a wooden door, that wouldnt prevent her from spreading lurid rumours about me and Tom around the three villages by sundown.

She was looking her usual strange self, in a severely truncated purple Regency-style dress, and with her hair cropped and dyed a dense, dead black. She clutched a small blue plastic basket of field mushrooms to her artificially inflated bosom, which might or might not be a fashion statement are plastic baskets currently a must-have accessory?

Apart from the kohl-edged eyes and puffy, fuchsia-pink lips (which reminded me, strikingly, of a baboons bottom), her face was pale as death. Paler.

Oh, Polly, are you all right? I asked. You havent been eating your own home-bottled tomatoes or anything like that, have you?

From time to time she fancied herself as the Earth Mother type and tried her hand at jams, chutneys and bottled goods, which she then gave to all and sundry, in my case together with a generous dose of botulism or something equally foul. Just my luck to get that one!

Oh, no, I havent had time for any of that, Lizzy Ive got a book to finish, you know.

Yes, Senga does like you to keep them coming, doesnt she?

Having fallen out with two agents and three publishers, Polly had been taken on by my own agent, Senga McDonald and may the best woman win.

Her dark eyes slid curiously to the closed workshop door and back to my face. I thought I heard raised voices is everything OK with you and Tom? Only sometimes lately you havent seemed entirely happy, and you know you can always depend on me if you need a shoulder to cry on.

Oh, yes, but only if I kneel down first, I thought, as she smiled at me in a horribly pseudo-sympathetic sort of way.

Im fine, I said shortly. We were just discussing business. Were you looking for me?

She gave a start. Oh, yes. I picked loads of mushrooms in the paddock this morning early and I thought you might like to swap them for some quail eggs? But if its inconvenient, it doesnt matter.

No, not at all. Im just off for a walk, but you know where they are in the small barn? Help yourself and leave the mushrooms there, I told her, and walked off, not caring whether she thought me rude or not. When she first moved to Middlemoss she went all out to be my best friend, but we had absolutely nothing in common (apart from Senga). Anyway, I already have a best friend in Annie.

Nor, it occurred to me, was she the type to skip about the fields at dawn gathering mushrooms, which in any case looked suspiciously like shop-bought ones, small, clean and perfectly formed. My marzipan mushrooms looked earthier than those!

I headed for the woods, for I found their dark, cool depths wonderfully soothing, especially on a hot day. They restored a sense of my unimportance in the great scale of things, shrinking my problems down to a more manageable, acorn size.

Luckily I was wearing a pinky-red T-shirt, so Caz would spot me if I strayed onto the smaller paths he stalked so relentlessly. But if he was out there with his gun, he didnt make himself known. Hes not much of a talker in any case; but then, most of his dealings are with squirrels, so he doesnt need to be.

After a while I found my thoughts turning away from more painful subjects onto the comforting one of food, wondering which member of the Christmas Pudding Circle would come up with the best recipe for brandy butter ice cream.

More than likely it would be Faye, since shes a farmers wife who has diversified by opening a farm shop and café, where she sells her own home-made organic ice cream. She was already perfecting a Christmas-pudding-flavoured one.

Eventually, as the shadows lengthened, I reluctantly had to turn for home, even though I dreaded seeing Tom again. But there was no need: he wasnt there and, more to the point, neither was my car.

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Eventually, as the shadows lengthened, I reluctantly had to turn for home, even though I dreaded seeing Tom again. But there was no need: he wasnt there and, more to the point, neither was my car.

Come to that, even the punnet of mushrooms Polly Darke had presumably left had vanished into thin air, though possibly Caz had been around and fancied them. He knows he can help himself to anything edible he can find, though it seemed a bit greedy to take them all. (He keeps the freezer I gave him locked, so goodness knows whats in there. Better not to know, perhaps?)

I searched for a note saying where Tom and my car had gone to, but there was nothing. Unless he came back by the time I returned from the Mystery Play Committee meeting, Jasper was going to have to cycle home that evening, and I would be extremely annoyed.

I fed, watered and generally cared for everything that needed my attention, then changed and set off for the village hall on foot.

Chapter 5: Sweet Mysteries

The Mystery Play Committee will reconvene on the 19th of August with rehearsals to start in September as usual. If any member of last years cast cannot for any reason continue in their role, would they please inform Marian and Clive Potter at the Middlemoss Post Office.

Mosses Messenger

The members of the Middlemoss Mystery Play Committee were gathered around a trestle table in the village hall, which exhibited reminders of its many functions: the playgroups brightly coloured toys poked out from behind a curtained alcove and their finger-painting decorated one wall, while the other bore posters of footprints illustrating the various new steps the Senior Citizens Tuesday Tea Dance Club were trying to master.

Personally, I thought salsa might give one or two of them a bit of trouble, but I was sure they would all give it a go. Their line dancing ensemble at the last Christmas concert had been a big hit, and Mrs Gumball, the cook up at Pharamond Hall, had got so excited she fell off the end of the stage. But fortunately foam playmats were always stacked there after an incident a few years back, when one of Santas little elves fell over, causing a domino effect along the line until the last one dropped off and broke a leg.

I think we might as well start, Clive, I suggested to the verger, opening the plastic box of Choconut Consolations Id brought with me and setting it in the middle, so everyone could help themselves. I dont know where Annies got to, but Uncle Rolys gone to the races. He said after all these years he could do the Voice of God in his sleep, so you could sort it all out without him.

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