Читать книгу A Nosey Parker Cozy Mystery - Fiona Leitch - Страница 8

For a split second nobody moved; we were all wondering what the hell had just happened. And then came the sound of bitch-slapping from the foyer.

I yanked off my stupid uncomfortable shoes and ran outside to see Cheryl lying on the ground, her hands thrust upwards and attempting to choke the madwoman sitting astride her – a madwoman who was still managing to wheeze threats at her.

‘Mel?’ Tony arrived seconds after me, and stood staring in astonishment.

‘Is that really Mel?’ I said, amazed. I hadn’t seen Tony’s ex-wife for years, and the last time I had she’d possessed a head of wonderful red curly hair. The harpy’s hair was bleached blonde and cut very short and spiky.

‘You can’t marry him!’ the harpy screeched. ‘You don’t love him! I won’t let you ruin his life!’

‘You already did that, you cow!’ snarled Cheryl, who was having trouble breathing under Mel’s not inconsiderable frame. I had to admit she had a point.

This was entertaining but getting out of hand. No one else was going to stop it – they were all still too gobsmacked – so I waded in. I’ve had the training, after all.

‘All right, ladies, that’s enough,’ I said, as I tried to prise Cheryl’s fingers away from Mel’s throat. When that didn’t work – she had a strong grip for someone with such well-manicured hands – I chopped her hard on the inside of the elbow with the side of my hand, making her yelp and let go. Then I dragged Mel to her feet and positioned myself between the two women.

I glared at Tony and the crowd (who were mostly male) gawping at us.

‘It’s all right, lads, don’t bloody help or anything, will you,’ I said, rolling my eyes. Tony shook himself and helped Cheryl to her feet.

‘She can’t marry him!’ cried Mel, straining to get to the furious and not-so-blushing bride-to-be again. I shook her and made her look at me.

‘Mel,’ I said. ‘Mel! Calm down. Do you remember me? Jodie?’

She looked at me and slowly recognition dawned. ‘Aren’t you the one who went off and joined the police? What are you doing here?’ A look of relief washed over her. ‘Are you investigating them? Are you—’

‘Just calm down,’ I said. ‘I’m going to let go of you so we can talk properly, okay? I don’t want a repeat of whatever that was.’

‘I want the police here RIGHT NOW!’ shouted Cheryl. She was understandably shaken, but I couldn’t help feeling she was almost enjoying being the centre of attention, or help noticing that her lacquered hair had barely moved under the onslaught. She must’ve sprayed it with liquid Kevlar.

Tony looked at me helplessly. I seem to have that effect on men; at some point in our relationship they always look at me helplessly. I sighed.

‘Let’s not be hasty, Cheryl,’ I said. She glared at me but I carried on before she could start shouting at me. I don’t normally take an instant dislike to people but I really could not warm to her. ‘It’s the night before your wedding, all your guests will be arriving tonight, and you’re meant to be having a party. Do you really want to spend the evening at the police station? It’ll take hours for them to take statements. Your whole night will be ruined.’

Tony looked at me gratefully and I forgave him for being a helpless wuss. My kind heart will be the end of me one day.

‘Jodie’s right,’ he said. ‘Let’s just go and have a drink and forget about it, yeah? No harm done.’

Cheryl looked for a moment like she was going to open her mouth and unleash such a stream of verbal abuse that it would make a navvy blush.

’‘Ello, ’ello, ’ello, what’s going on here then?’ The man’s voice stopped Cheryl in her tracks. We all turned to stare at the small group of guests who had just arrived in the foyer and were looking on, bemused, obviously wondering if they’d missed the evening’s entertainment.

I took in the appearance of the man who had stolen what was, by rights for an ex-copper, my line. He was in his early sixties, dapper and well dressed in casual but expensive-looking clothes. A Ralph Lauren polo player gambolled discreetly on the breast pocket of his shirt and the chunky diver’s watch on his wrist did not look like a cheap knock-off from the local market. He radiated self-assurance and good humour, particularly if it was at someone else’s expense. Behind him stood another, younger man, good-looking in a cocky kind of way – the sort of bloke you knew deep down you couldn’t trust, but who could probably persuade you otherwise just long enough to get into your knickers. A sardonic smile, almost a sneer, crossed his face as he looked at Cheryl, who had gone uncharacteristically silent.

‘All right, Chel?’ His voice had a mocking, slightly belligerent tone to it. ‘My name weren’t on the invite but I’m sure you didn’t mean nothing by it.’

‘We did send you one,’ said Tony awkwardly. ‘The post round here…’

The older man smiled – he was clearly very amused both by Tony’s obvious discomfort and by the tableau in front of him – and inclined his head towards Mel.

‘Is this the floorshow? I don’t think much of your strippergram.’

Oh, so he was a dick. Good to know up front.

‘That’s really not helping, Mr…?’ I said, in my best police officer’s voice. These things never leave you.

‘Laity. Roger Laity.’ He held out his hand to shake, but my hands were still occupied with holding onto Mel. ‘Uncle of the blushing bride.’

‘Well, Mr Laity, if you and the rest of the group could make your way into the function room, rather than stand there making funny comments, that would go some way towards salvaging your niece’s party, don’t you think?’

He looked at me appraisingly. I got the impression that he expected me to blush or falter under his gaze but then, he really didn’t know me. He turned away and patted Tony on the back condescendingly: you can stand down now, son, the real man of the family has arrived. Tony looked like he wanted to wash and possibly disinfect the spot his uncle-in-law-to-be had touched, and I felt a rush of sympathy for him. All he’d wanted was a nice wedding.

‘Come on, babe,’ said Tony, tugging at Cheryl.

The bride-to-be bestowed a murderous glance on Mel, who deserved it, to be fair, and on me, who didn’t, and then allowed Tony to take her hand and lead her away. But she stopped and turned to me, hissing, ‘Get that … that thing out of my sight or I really will call the police!’

We waited while Tony, Cheryl, and their guests left the foyer and then I led a now docile Mel out of the hotel and into the grounds. We found a bench in a secluded spot near a pond full of koi carp, and sat down.

‘So what was all that about?’ I asked. Mel looked remorseful.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, miserably. ‘I tried to talk to her but she brushed me off and I just got this rush of blood to the head.’

‘That was quite a rugby tackle,’ I said. We looked at each other, the image of Cheryl and her hair flying into the air running through our minds, and both stifled giggles.

‘You don’t like her either, do you?’ asked Mel.

‘I hardly know her,’ I said, and she laughed gently.

‘That’s not a no, then,’ she said, and I laughed too.

‘No, it’s not.’

We sat quietly for a moment, letting her calm down and marshal her thoughts.

‘I don’t think she loves him,’ Mel said finally. ‘She’s going to ruin his life.’

‘At the risk of sounding judgemental…’ I started.

‘I know, I know, I already ruined it.’ She sighed. ‘I didn’t do it lightly. And I did love him. I just fell in love with someone else as well.’

‘Your driving instructor.’

She looked at me, surprised. ‘I keep forgetting that everyone knows everyone’s business in this town. Your mum and my mum—’

‘They both go to the OAPs’ coffee club at the church hall on Wednesdays,’ I said. She nodded.

‘Of course. Anyway, I fell for my instructor but I still loved Tony. I wasn’t stringing them both along, I just didn’t know who I wanted to be with.’ She sighed again. ‘If it’s any consolation, I chose the wrong one. She did to me what I did to Tony.’

I looked at her miserable face. I remembered how I’d almost instantly fallen for Daisy’s dad – PC Richard Doyle, to give him his official title, or ‘that cheating swine’ to give him the unofficial one my mum always used – spotting him across the room at a team briefing. He’d just transferred to the station and I had to show him around. I ended up showing him a lot more than that after a few drinks in the pub after work. I hadn’t known he was married at first, and I didn’t care about his wife when he left her because it meant he’d chosen me. I’d been a lonely workaholic and I wasn’t letting him go. Doubtless the woman he left me for – who I was sure was just one of many sad extra-marital conquests – twelve years later didn’t care how I felt, either. It had felt like he’d ripped my heart out and stamped on it. And stamped on Daisy’s, too, because when he left me he left her as well.

There wasn’t a finite amount of heartbreak in the world. It didn’t make any difference how many people suffered from it, it didn’t lessen the sting. I sighed.

‘Of course it’s not a consolation, not to anyone. Not even to Tony, because he’s not like that.’ I picked up a piece of gravel and tossed it into the pond, watching the ripples spread out. I turned back to Mel. ‘But what makes you think she’s going to ruin his life?’

‘She’s not marrying him for love,’ she said firmly.

‘What makes you say that? What’s she marrying him for?’

‘Money.’

I laughed. ‘He hasn’t got any, has he? I mean, I know the shop’s still going after all these years…’

She looked at me steadily.

‘The shop?’ I said. ‘You think she wants the shop?’

Mel shrugged but didn’t say anything. Why would Cheryl want the shop? It can’t have been that profitable; I was amazed it was still going. Smaller shops were closing all the time in seaside towns like Penstowan.

I looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You said to me earlier, was I here investigating them. Investigating who?’

‘The Laity family,’ said Mel without any hesitation. ‘Are you?’

‘I’m not a police officer anymore,’ I said. ‘I’m just doing the catering.’

‘Oh.’ She looked disappointed.

‘I’m still nosey, though,’ I said. I had to admit that my childhood nickname had become quite apt during my years on the force. ‘Why should the Laity family be investigated?’

She looked around nervously. ‘My cousin works for the council. Let’s just say, that family have got plans for Penstowan that not everyone will agree with.’

‘What sort of plans?’ I asked.

‘Everything okay?’

I looked up into Tony’s concerned face. He looked anxiously from me to Mel, a worried smile on his face.

‘Tony! I’m so sorry…’ started Mel, looking like she might cry.

‘Do you want me to leave you to talk?’ I said, standing up. Emotional scenes are not my thing. But they both looked horrified at the idea. Mel grabbed my hand.

‘I just wanted to make sure you were okay,’ said Tony. ‘I know it must be hard for you, seeing me move on and be happy—’

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Tony, this is not a bloody love triangle with you in the middle!’ she snapped. He looked affronted, then annoyed.

‘Oh, so you just decided to rock up and ruin my wedding for a laugh?’

Mel got to her feet and it was in danger of all going off again. I jumped up and stood between them.

‘Tony, thank you for checking on us; everything is fine. Mel is going to go home now so you get back to your party and I’ll be in for a drink in a bit.’ I really needed a drink after all this. To think I’d been expecting to be bored. I gave him a little shove towards the hotel and took Mel’s arm.

We left him standing there with his mouth open, catching flies.

‘So what were you going to say?’ I asked Mel, when we were out of earshot. But she shook her head.

‘No. Balls to him. If he wants to marry her, let him get on with it.’

We were almost in the car park by now. She disentangled her arm from mine and stopped.

‘Thank you for stopping me make an even bigger idiot of myself,’ she said. ‘I appreciate it, honestly.’ She looked over at an old and slightly battered Vauxhall that was parked on the other side of the gravelled drive. A small, furry, and undeniably cute face peered out of it, nose sniffling at the window. ‘I left my dog in the car. She must be hot.’ Mel must have seen my disapproving expression; the window was open a tiny crack, barely enough to let any air in, and it had been a hot day. ‘I can’t leave the window down any further than that or she gets out,’ she explained, and chuckled. ‘She’s so clever, she throws all her weight at the top of the window until she forces it down, and then wriggles out. I should have called her Houdini. I’ll just let her out for a pee and then I’ll be off.’

She went to leave but I grabbed her arm to stop her.

‘If you ever want to talk…’ I said. ‘I’d give you my business card but I left my bag in the bar.’

She smiled softly. ‘Thank you. If you’ve moved back to Penstowan I’m sure we’ll run into each other.’

I watched as she opened the car door and made a fuss of Germaine, faithful companion and would-be canine escape artist. Then I went back to the bar.

I thought I should probably stick around long enough to have a glass of wine, and then I would make my excuses and leave. It really wasn’t my kind of party. But there was someone else missing from the bar too: Cheryl.

Tony saw me enter, brought me a glass of champagne, and steered me over to the window.

‘So, do you think she’ll come back?’ he asked.

I gulped at my champagne. ‘Who, Cheryl?’

‘No, you muppet. Cheryl’s having an early night. Mel. Will Mel cause any trouble tomorrow?’

‘Oh, right. No, I don’t think so.’ I shook my head. ‘And anyway, if she does turn up, I’ll be right over there in the kitchen, preparing vol-au-vents and making dinner for a hundred people. I will have access to a lot of sharp pointy things.’

‘You could do your awesome ex-policewoman ninja stuff again.’ Tony laughed. ‘That was so hot…’

I gasped in mock horror and slapped him. ‘Anthony Penhaligon! You’re practically a married man!’

He smiled. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’m very lucky.’

‘Hmm,’ I said non-committally, sipping at my drink.

‘You don’t like my wife-to-be much, do you?’ he said.

‘I hardly know her.’ I was painfully aware that was the exact thing I’d said to Mel. He laughed.

‘That’s not a no, is it?’ He stared out of the window for a moment then turned back to me. ‘I know Cheryl can be a bit…’ What? A bit of a fricking nightmare? ‘A bit high maintenance. But she’s not had an easy life.’

I thought about the things I’d gone through over the last few years.

‘Lots of us have had a hard life—’ I started.

‘She lost her parents when she was fifteen.’ Oh crap. ‘That’s how she ended up with her uncle. I don’t know what her parents were like – they didn’t live round here – but her uncle and his lot…’ Tony shook his head and lowered his voice. ‘They’re not very nice people. So cut her some slack, yeah?’ He touched me gently on the arm. ‘I’m glad you’re back, Jodie. I’d really like you and Cheryl to be friends. Will you try?’

‘Of course,’ I said. And I meant it, for him.

I finished my drink and left the bar. Should I go up and talk to Cheryl? Part of me wanted nothing more than to just go home and relieve my mum of her babysitting duties – Daisy liked to think she was a grown-up, but she was still only twelve – but the concerned (or nosey) part of me thought that maybe I should pop up and check on her.

I stood outside her room, hesitating. Maybe I shouldn’t disturb her if she wanted an early night. But I could hear movement – a lot of movement – from the other side of the door. So I knocked.

There was silence. To my mind it was a guilty silence – like someone had been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Don’t ask me how a silence can be guilty, but it can. I just have this instinct…

Just as I was becoming convinced she wouldn’t answer the door, she did, opening it a crack. She had a smile on her face which dropped as soon as she saw me.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said.

‘Just checking that you’re all right after that little incident earlier,’ I said sweetly. I can do sweet.

‘I’m fine,’ she said. Through the crack in the door I could see a suitcase on the bed with a mess of clothes half in and half out.

‘Getting everything ready for your big day?’ I said. ‘Packing for the honeymoon?’

‘Yes,’ she said, attempting to close the door a little tighter. I had a horrible feeling that packing wasn’t what she was doing.

‘Look, we may have got off on the wrong foot,’ I said. ‘If you want to talk—’

‘Not really.’

‘Okay.’ I was relieved. ‘Tony’s a really good guy, you know. He deserves to be happy.’

Her face dropped. Uh oh.

‘I know he does.’

‘So if you’ve got any doubts…’

She looked at me for a few seconds, then plastered on a fake smile.

‘No doubts at all,’ she said. ‘Thank you for your concern.’ And with that she shut the door in my face.

I went home and went to bed, first looking in on Daisy, who had given up waiting up for me and gone to bed, and on my mum, who was staying in the spare room. I’d mentioned her moving in with us permanently as she was getting on a bit and I worried about her being on her own (especially since she’d been diagnosed with angina a few months ago, which had helped persuade me now was a good time to move back), but she’d been almost indecently hasty to reject that idea, saying that she valued her privacy and she could hardly bring a man home if her daughter and granddaughter were there.

I turned the light off and stared at the ceiling before finally falling into a restless sleep. My dreams were filled with 80s hairstyles, rugby tackles, and dickheads in Ralph Lauren, and somewhere in the middle of it Tony saying he’d deliver the sofa tomorrow. Except of course he wouldn’t because it already had pride of place in my living room and tomorrow was his wedding day.

I woke the next morning and saw the text from the groom, and in my sleep-fuddled state I thought, He’s arranging a time to deliver the sofa.

When I opened it, I was unsurprised to read that the bride had disappeared.