Читать книгу Exham-on-Sea Murder Mysteries 4-6 - Frances Evesham - Страница 23

The day of the yarnbomb extravaganza was drawing close, so the members of the Knitters' Guild planned to meet on several extra evenings. ‘We want to make a splash,’ Angela said. ‘After all this misery, Wells needs cheering up.’ Libby was determined to be there, so she set off once more through the lanes, taking a new route to avoid any sight of the burnt-out shell of Samantha’s house.

The Guild had expanded. Several members, new to Libby and all experienced and competent knitters, had added their contributions. Knitted items swamped the trestle tables. Libby, embarrassed, tried to hide her uneven squares, but Angela grabbed them. ‘They don’t have to be perfect.’

June scooped fingers through the green stripe in her hair until it stood on end. ‘Pop them on the table, my love. We're all friends, here. Colour and spectacle matter, but the odd dropped stitch won’t hurt.’

Vera sniffed. ‘At least they’re bright.’ Angela grouped colours together, shifting them around until even Libby saw a pattern emerging.

Ruby threw her arms around Angela. ‘You have a wonderful eye, my dear.’ Angela wrinkled her nose at Libby over Ruby’s shoulder.

As the ladies sewed squares together to make blankets, Vera led the gossip. ‘I heard about the gargoyles. Now, what do you think? Was it an accident or did Giles Temple's killer set a trap?’

June shook her head. ‘In a cathedral. Unbelievable.’

Ruby munched a fruity scone. ‘You’re so brave, both of you. If it had been me, I’d stay safe at home and I wouldn't set foot in the cathedral until the police caught the killer.’

Vera interrupted. ‘I forgot to tell you. The Dean said he’d drop in this evening. He’s very excited about our little event.’

On cue, the door opened, and the Dean made an entrance, smiling at each lady in turn, stroking a mane of neat, groomed grey hair. Libby nudged Angela. ‘I wonder how long he spends every morning blow-drying his hair,’ she whispered.

‘Good evening, ladies.’ The voice was resonant. Libby could imagine the Dean reading a lesson, filling the cathedral with sound. The effect on some of the ladies made her smile. They fluttered around the room, searching out the prettiest cup and offering scones piled high with cream and jam.

The Dean sank gracefully into a chair, inspected manicured nails, and turned his attention to the knitted goods. ‘The Bishop is most impressed with your work, good ladies. He’s looking forward to the yarnbombing.’

‘He doesn't think it's inappropriate after the murder?’ Vera asked.

‘Good heavens, no. We need a happy event to encourage community spirit. Have you decided on the date?’

‘Next Wednesday,’ June boomed. ‘Which means we'll get together on Tuesday evening and work through the night, decorating the city.’

The Dean extracted a diary from his pocket and made a note. ‘Excellent. Please come to the cathedral after Evensong on Tuesday, for a short blessing.’ He turned to Libby and Angela. ‘I must apologise most sincerely to you two, on behalf of everyone at the cathedral, for your dreadful accident.’

Angela thanked him. ‘No lasting harm done. The statue missed us both. I suppose it will need repair?’

He raised a hand. ‘No need to worry. We have a contract with a firm of masons. The Bishop asked me to tell you how sorry he is for your fright.’ He’d decided the event was an accident, and there was little point in arguing.

‘Now,’ he continued, ‘to the other reason I came. I bring invitations to a special lunch tomorrow. It's a small thank you for such hard work.’ He beamed at Libby. ‘My wife asked me to give a special welcome to you, Mrs Forest and Mrs Miles, after your fright. Please bring that charming dog.’

Libby gulped. ‘Do you mean Bear? He’s very big.’

Angela giggled. ‘I’m afraid ‘big’ doesn’t do him justice. The creature’s enormous.’

The Dean smiled. ‘Amelia, my wife, is exceedingly fond of dogs.’