Murder In Bloom Part 41

'What were you going to do in the end?' asked Libby.

Katie sighed. 'Wait for it to go away. I was going to give notice,' she nodded at Lewis, 'and go back to London. Maybe retire. Go travelling.' She shook her head. 'Somehow I didn't believe it.' She put her hands on the little table and pushed herself to her feet. 'Come on then. Time to go for the police.'

Lewis looked shamefaced. 'I think they might be here,' he said. Libby looked a question. 'Adam said you sounded frightened, so I called them.'

'What were you frightened of?' asked Katie, who by this time was putting on an outdoor coat.

'I wasn't sure,' said Libby, avoiding Lewis's eye.

'Not me?' His voice rose several notches. 'Why, for Gawd's sake?'

'I'm really not sure,' said Libby. 'Can we talk about it later?'

They followed Katie into the kitchen where, to Libby's astonishment, Adam, Mog, Ian Connell, Sergeant Maiden and Ben were grouped round the kitchen table. Adam rushed at Libby, while Ian gently took Katie's arm and escorted her outside, murmuring the official warning to her as he did so. Libby saw her nodding as she left the house, and suddenly burst into tears.

'My mum!' said Lewis, and shot upstairs, while Ben and Adam offered hugs and handkerchiefs to the weeping woman at the table.

Five minutes later Edie appeared in the kitchen with Lewis, her eyes suspiciously bright, but looking upright and determined. She came over to Libby and gave her shoulder a pat.

'You bin a help to my boy,' she said. 'Now I'm goin' to look after him. You pop off home, like, and we'll see you soon.'

'Thank you, Edie,' said Libby, 'but I think the police will want to speak to us before we go.'

Ian, having returned to the kitchen, nodded apologetically and asked if there was somewhere comfortable they could go. Lewis said they could use the solar and led the way back upstairs.

'Funny,' he said, standing and looking out of the large window down to the river and the sea. 'I remember sitting here right at the beginning of all this and being scared.' He turned and smiled sadly at Libby. 'I didn't know what I was scared of then, did I?'

She came to his side and put an arm round him. 'You had nothing to be scared of,' she said. 'Katie loved you.'

'That was the trouble,' said Ian from behind them. 'She loved so many people, particularly her own son. Frightening thing, mother love.'

Epilogue.

AND SO FRAN AND Guy were married a few days later. Libby once again found herself in the role of first attendant, and Ben was a proud and handsome best man. Adam and Dominic appointed themselves groomsmen and kept an eye on Fran's unpredictable children, the fretful Lucy and her unruly offspring, the social-climbing Chrissie and her husband Bruce, who both looked as though they'd sucked lemons, and the placid Jeremy, charming American girlfriend in tow, both of them still suffering from jet lag.

Later, in the marquee, where an extremely good jazz quartet were playing, Libby and Fran sat together with gla.s.ses of champagne while Libby brought Fran up to date on the unhappy finale to the Creekmarsh mystery.

'So we were almost right,' said Fran, sipping thoughtfully. 'Cindy really did kill Tony because of Gerald's will.'

'Yes, but she can't have thought she had any way of getting back into it,' said Libby. 'I think the crunch came when Katie told her she'd done it for nothing because she was now the only beneficiary. Then she would have panicked.'

'And Katie pretended to help her.' Fran twirled her new wedding ring round her finger and held it up to admire it. 'Why on earth did the silly girl believe that?'

'Because she realised she would have left traces and because Katie said they'd found new evidence.

She just wanted to get away.'

'So she walked into her own death.' Fran shook her head and looked across to where Guy was attempting to charm her daughters.

Libby nodded and looked for her own children in another corner of the marquee, laughing and talking with Harry and Peter, and then Ben, sitting quietly with Lewis and Edie, watching her.

'As Ian said,' she whispered, 'a terrible thing, mother love.'

About The Author.

Born in Guildford, Surrey, Lesley spent her early life in south London, before marrying and moving all over the south-east of England. Lesley fell into feature writing by accident, then went on to reviewing for both magazines and radio. She writes for the stage, she has written short fiction for women's weekly magazines and is a former editor of The Call Boy, the British Music Hall Society journal. Her first Libby Sarjeant novel, Murder In Steeple Martin, was published to much acclaim in 2006, followed in 2007 by Murder At The Laurels and Murder In Midwinter. In 2008, Lesley's ever-increasing number of fans welcomed the publication of Murder By The Sea. Her pa.s.sion for the theatre is reflected in her first nonfiction work, How To Write A Pantomime, also published by Accent Press.

www.lesleycookman.co.uk.

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