The Bronze Lady (Woodford Antiques Mystery Book 2) (11 page)

Chapter 27

Wednesday 20
th
January 2016, 12.35pm

Rebecca and Christine Black, Paul Black’s first ex-wife and Rebecca’s best friend, were sitting in the Woodford Tearooms. They were the only customers, and Lisa Bartlett was enjoying the relative peace and quiet after a very busy few days. She was developing a recipe for a pheasant curry; their freezers were full of pheasants from the local shoots so she had plenty of ingredients with which to test a variety of flavours. Lisa and Gemma tried to keep their menu seasonal, using local suppliers where possible; although now the shooting season was almost over they were not sure if pheasant would still be popular.

‘Morning ladies, do you know what you would like to order? In case you haven’t decided there is a free dish on the menu today, pheasant curry. I’d like some guinea-pigs to tell me if the flavour is chilli enough or too much.’

‘Ooooh yes please, I’ll be a guinea-pig for you!’ Lisa smiled; Christine Black was always so enthusiastic about being a Taster for the dishes Lisa and Gemma wanted to try out on their customers.

‘Not for me thanks,’ said Rebecca. ‘I don’t want to smell of curry all afternoon; I don’t think the clients of Black’s Auctions would appreciate it. Parsnip soup and a wholemeal roll for me please Lisa.’ She turned back to Christine once Lisa had left them. ‘So come on then, what was so important we had to meet for lunch at short notice then Christine? Please don’t tell me you are pregnant!’

‘Good grief no,’ Christine shuddered and smoothed down her already perfectly straight blond hair with one carefully manicured hand. ‘Two are plenty for me, thank you very much. No, this is about you,’ she gave Rebecca a sly look. ‘Remember Benjamin Francis from school?  You and he had a ‘thing’ for a while in Year Eleven didn’t you?’

‘Oh yes Benjamin! Oh he was so cute; he used to have a gorgeous denim jacket he would let me wear sometimes. You were already dating Paul by then weren’t you?’

Christine groaned, ‘Yes I was, and he couldn’t keep it in his pants even then! I forgave him everything, I was totally in love with the idea of going out with a much older man, rather than any of the teenage boys at our school. But enough about my Ex, come on, back to Benjamin.’

‘Fine by me. What made you think of him?’

‘Well,’ said Christine, leaning closer towards Rebecca as though imparting a state secret, ‘Benjamin contacted me through Facebook last week and we have been chatting through the private messaging service, and your name came up.’

‘Uh oh,’ groaned Rebecca.

‘Wait wait, don’t jump to conclusions, I didn’t tell him anything about You Know Who and You Know What, all I said was that your marriage broke down last summer and you were currently single, he is too, and he wants to meet you! Isn’t that exciting?’

‘No.’

‘Yes it is, let me tell you about him.  Do you remember he was always into music, and he and a couple of the other boys formed a band - I forget what it was called’ Rebecca shook her head, she couldn’t remember either ‘well, he now works in the music industry, has homes in New York, Majorca and London.  I told him about your son Michael and his band, and he said maybe he could do something to help him in his career. He was impressed that a sixteen year old had been playing with his own band for three years.’

‘You two seem to have been having quite a conversation.  You are still with Dave aren’t you?’ said Rebecca sullenly.

Christine Black was dating one of Woodford Secondary School’s mathematics teachers, Dave Truckell. They had been seeing each other for a few months, and from what Rebecca had seen of them they seemed to be a lovely couple.

‘Hey don’t be like that!  I am only thinking of you.  Look, he is coming back to Woodford this weekend to see his parents, they still live here, and he would like to meet you for a drink in The Ship Inn on Friday night. Me and Dave can come too so it isn’t too awkward...’

‘No, not much’ muttered Rebecca

‘...and it is only a drink’ Christine carried on excitedly, pointedly ignoring her friend’s unenthusiastic comments. ‘Come on, it will be good for you.’

‘How do you work that out!’ exclaimed Rebecca. ‘I am perfectly happy with my life thank you very much.  I do not need or want a man in it.  I am still getting over the last one.’

Lisa appeared with their food, so Christine grasped the opportunity for reinforcements.

‘Oh tell her she has to come, Lisa. Don’t you think it would be good for Rebecca to have a nice male friend?’

‘Oh no,’ laughed Lisa backing away with the empty tray, ‘don’t you drag me into this. I am the
last
person to be handing out relationship advice.’

‘But you are all loved up these days aren’t you?’ teased Christine. ‘I have seen you in the Ship Inn several times with a mystery man. Who is he, by the way?’

‘His name is Robin Morton, he works for an engineering company, divorced, no children, and his shoe size is eleven. Enough information?’ she asked, with a light edge to her voice.

‘How did you meet him Lisa? Was he a customer?’ asked Rebecca, who although wasn’t interested in having another man in her life had been wondering how people meet new partners.

Lisa recognised Rebecca’s question as one of genuine curiosity rather than probing for gossip. ‘Oh, I met him online, through a dating site. Are you interested then Rebecca? I can help you get started.’

‘No, no, no,’ said Rebecca, raising her hands up in horror and laughing. ‘I haven’t entirely got rid of the last one yet!’ she grinned. ‘But IF’ she glared at Christine, her eyes appearing to be more black than their usual soft brown, ‘I do decide I am ready for some romance in my life, then you, Lisa, will be the first person I shall come to.’

‘Good grief don’t do that!’ laughed Lisa. ‘This is very early days for me. Look what happened to my last attempt, and the one before that,’ she chuckled happily as she hurried back to the safety of her kitchen, secure in the knowledge she was at last having fun in her love life.

‘You don’t need to start scouring the internet for a date,’ said Christine grumpily. ‘I have found you a real life man, whom you know. Or at least knew, once upon a time. Look, you don’t have to sleep with him or anything, or even be on your own. I told you, Dave and I will be there too.’

‘Oh, yes, you think it would be better for me to date this man who found you on the internet? Oh, and you have asked Dave if he is OK with this then?’

‘Oh yes!’ said Christine, totally missing the warning icy tone in Rebecca’s voice. ‘He is all for it, he thinks it is an excellent idea.’ She sat back, and started to tuck in to her lunch. ‘Mmmh Lisa this is wonderful!’ she called through to the kitchen. ‘You should try some,’ she said offering Rebecca a forkful of rice and curry.

‘Should I Christine?  Should I? I have already said No Thank you to the curry, and explained my reasons even though I don’t see why I should have to explain my food choices to anyone, least of all you. And no, I won’t be meeting Benjamin Francis, or any other man, on Friday night because I have a Fête Committee meeting and I would rather be there with my friends than sitting in a pub making small talk with a man I haven’t seen for over twenty years.’ She took a breath and started again, more calmly. ‘Thank you for thinking of me, and thank you for your concern about the state of my love life, but I am perfectly happy as I am at the moment, and the last thing I need is a man!’

Chapter 28

Wednesday 20
th
January 2016, 6.30pm

Sarah Handley whispered to her newly appointed barman, Tom Higston, whose family ran an organic farm in nearby Brackendon. ‘Watch those two. Something has been brewing there for a while now, and I don’t like the look of either them this evening. Any trouble call me, DON’T get involved, you are not ready.’

Tom nodded in agreement, but resolved to ignore his new employer’s advice if things kicked off as she seemed to expect. He had grown up on a farm and was well-versed in handling dangerous situations, and certainly wasn’t going to leave it to a middle-aged woman to handle on her own.

Sarah’s warning came just in time.

‘What are you trying to do, get me sent to prison? I told you I wouldn’t do it, but you won’t leave it alone. Don’t bother putting anything into Black’s Auctions in future; I am not interested in working with you any more!’ Paul Black furiously slammed his partially beer-filled glass down on the table, shoved his chair backwards so he could stand up, and roughly grabbing his coat from the back of the chair he stormed out of the door leaving Tony Cookson sitting slightly opened mouthed on his own.

‘Well! What was that all about?’ asked Sarah, as she went over to the table with a cloth to clean up the spilt beer Paul had left there.

‘Oh, er, nothing much.’

‘Nothing much! Well of course it is about something, you two are good friends. I have never seen Paul behave like that with anyone before. And what was all that about not putting anything in his auction? You are always putting stuff through his auction.’

‘Oh, honestly it is nothing. It will blow over.’ Sarah didn’t look as though she was going anywhere, so Tony lowered his voice causing her to lean down to hear what he was saying. ‘Look, I didn’t want to say anything, but you know what Paul is like. He had a go at trying to seduce my daughter, Lizzi, and I told him where to go, so he’s got the right hump about it. She split up with her husband a couple of months ago. They were only married four years. None of us know what it is all about and we are hoping it is something of nothing, so I really don’t want Paul “Shag ‘Em” Black getting in the way. He didn’t mean what he said, his pride has been injured that’s all. It will blow over. I’ll have another pint please, Sarah, and one for yourself, and whatever young Tom is drinking, thanks. Lesley will be in later, we’re eating in here tonight, so please
please
don’t say anything, she doesn’t know anything about this business with Lizzi.  Lesley has a low-enough opinion of Paul as it is!’

‘No, of course I won’t. But Paul really needs to stop behaving like a randy teenager and start living like the middle-aged father of two that he is. His behaviour is beginning to verge on anti-social, and he is going for younger and younger women. I had to warn him off pestering Jennifer Isaac in here the other day.’

‘Probably because he has exhausted the supply of women of his own age in the area.’ Tony laughed, desperately but unsuccessfully trying to ease the tension in the bar. ‘Jennifer is a sensible girl, more interested in horses than men from what I have seen of her. I hear Jackie Martin is retiring, is that true?’

His attempt to change the subject was lost on Sarah, who continued with her train of thought as she walked back to the bar, with Tony following her. ‘Or the women of his age have more sense than to get entangled with a man like that. If I didn’t find his behaviour so distasteful I would feel sorry for him. He is a nice man underneath all that ridiculous way he behaves towards women.’

‘Ooooh who are we talking about?’ Nicola Stacey joined them at the bar, empty glass in hand and nodded in agreement at Sarah’s sign language question for Same Again.

‘Paul Black,’ said Sarah, shortly. ‘Here’s your pint Tony,’ she nodded to him to go back to his table. ‘I’ll come over with a couple of menus when Lesley appears shall I?’

‘Yes please, thanks Sarah,’ and he hurried away before Nicola could start to question him.

‘What’s Paul been up to now? Or should I ask who?’

‘Oh just the usual, chasing skirt too young for him. How is Cliff these days? He seems to be looking a lot happier.’

‘Yes, I think he is on the road to recovery. Such a contrast to Paul, and yet of the two of them none of us would have been shocked if the revelations about Cliff last year had been about Paul instead, would we?’

‘No, you’re right,’ laughed Sarah. ‘Of the two of them Cliff would have not even been on my list of suspects! So business in the antiques centre is picking up again?’

‘Hard to tell at this time of year, but at least the number of stall holders is starting to build up again. Not sure how long one of the new ones will last. Does he come in here, Rowland Mitchell?’

‘Name doesn’t ring a bell. What does he look like?’

‘Um, he is tallish, probably just under six foot, dark hair and moustache, late fifties or early sixties - hard to tell - and wears a filthy three piece tweed suit with matching cap. I am sure you would know him if he came in here Sarah, he is quite distinctive.’

‘No, no, can’t say I recognise your description. Why don’t you think he is going to last?’

‘Well, he rarely comes in to clean and tidy his stand. He has been in the antiques centre for about two months and has only come in three times! And his stock is real dinosaur antiques stuff, you know like bureaus and tall boys with the odd Staffordshire figurine thrown in for good measure, or cheap mass produced dinner plates and bowls. When he does bother to come in and re-stock it all seems to sell though. Very curious. Mind you, we don’t mind him not coming to see us very often; he absolutely reeks of stale cigarette smoke and alcohol. Cliff makes a point of walking round with the air freshener when Rowland is in the room.’

Sarah laughed ‘Oh yes, Mike does the same....’ She stopped. ‘Mike did the same when we had a less-than-fragrant customer. Here is his can of air freshener,’ she said as she picked up the can from under the bar. ‘Yes, what can I get for you,’ Sarah turned on her best Pub Landlady charm to serve the couple who were now stood at the bar next to Nicola.

While she was busy with her customers, Nicola sat quietly waiting for her to finish.

‘Have you thought anymore about going to Zumba? There is a class on a Tuesday night in the village hall. I thought I might give it a go next week,’ said Sarah once the couple had left the bar with their drinks and menus. ‘I need to start getting in shape for horse riding this year. Mrs Barker suggested a yard up near them in Swanwick as a good place to start with our riding lessons. Tom is settling in well and Tuesdays are normally quiet in here, so it could give him a fair opportunity to start taking responsibility for the place on his own without me breathing down his neck.’

Nicola noted her friend’s decision to carry on as though nothing traumatic had recently happened in her life, and sighed to herself. Ever since Mike’s death Sarah had refused to talk about him and her little slip a few minutes earlier had been the first time she had used his name in Nicola’s presence since his funeral.

‘Zumba? Oh I’m not sure Sarah. It all looks a bit complicated to me.’

‘No, it’ll be fine. Jackie Martin was in here yesterday, poor lady. Her bones are healing but she is still struggling to move around normally. Anyway, she said that everyone gets it wrong, but it’s not called that, it’s called Freestyle!’

‘Oh I like that! Well, I’ll give it a go if you do,’ laughed Nicola, ‘but I’m not sure it will be for me.’

‘OK, why don’t we plan to go for four weeks in a row, and then if we don’t like it we can say we have tried? I’ll organise Tom to work here for the next four Tuesdays, and you and I can go to the Indian afterwards to recover. How does that sound?’

Nicola thought is sounded excellent that her friend was planning to take one evening away from the pub every week for four weeks; to her knowledge since Sarah and Mike had taken over the running of The Ship Inn eleven years previously they had rarely spent any evenings elsewhere, even on their days off. Nicola wasn’t quite so keen on the idea of spending the next four Tuesday evenings at Zumba though, but she was willing to try for her friend’s sake.

‘That sounds perfect, Sarah. Let’s do it.’