Peridale Cafe Mystery 23 - Raspberry Lemonade and Ruin Read online

  Dot nodded, joining her hands together. Rather than her usual gesture – tight and clasped under her bust – they remained slack and fumbling.

  “And is Katie joining?” Shilpa pushed, directing the question at Dot rather than Katie.

  “If that’s alright with everyone?” Katie asked, her nervousness setting everything from her voice to her fingers shaking. “I want to help save the library too.”

  “To ease a guilty conscience?” Neil replied flatly, joining the circle that had formed. “You have a funny way of showing it, Katie.”

  “Neil,” Dot warned.

  To Julia’s surprise, Shilpa left Evelyn’s side and joined Neil’s.

  “He might have a point,” she said, folding her arms. “We can’t play both sides right now. You’re either with that man or against him.”

  “I just thought that with the manor’s sale going through on Monday, and—”

  “That everything would be okay?” Neil interrupted. “I’m about to lose my career, Katie. I’ve worked in this library my entire adult life, and it’s about to go and—” He paused, his voice cracking. “I have a family too. You’re crushing mine to save your own.”

  The words sliced through the stuffy air like iced blades, evaporating Julia’s hopes that the opinions of Katie he’d aired the previous week had been merely the ramblings of a drunk.

  Barker broke the ensuing silence. “C’mon, Neil, be fair. Katie didn’t know James wanted to buy the library as well as the manor. It’s not like he told anyone. We all found out the same way.”

  “But shouldn’t you have found out?” Neil turned his glare on Barker. “You were looking into him when he started sniffing around the manor. How could a private investigator worth his salt miss this?”

  Barker’s expression matched Katie’s. Usually, Evelyn was the one with mystical abilities, but on this dreary evening, Neil was the one looking within and holding mirrors up to everyone. Separately, Barker and Katie had confessed such insecurities to Julia several times since they’d found out the man trying to buy the library and the man buying Katie’s manor was the same person.

  “What is this tantrum achieving, Neil?” Dot stepped into the fray with a pointed clearing of her throat. “You should apologise to Katie. In fact, I insist. We’re family first. You’re old enough to know the boat rocks enough on its own without blaming the waves on someone within your own circle.”

  Dot sent a supportive wink at Katie and, for a moment, it seemed to lift her spirits. When Neil’s apology didn’t come, everyone in the room stared awkwardly at the floor. Finally, a white van mounting the kerb in front of the library broke the silence.

  “You said there was news,” Shilpa asked Dot cautiously, dropping her arms. “Should we be worried?”

  “It’s the library.” Dot’s fingers fumbled at the brooch at her throat. “Johnny got a tip-off from the council that . . .”

  Dot squinted towards the windows as the van’s doors opened. James Jacobson, the man behind the current conflict, jumped from the cabin, followed by his son. Richie Jacobson was a clone of his father, only twenty years younger, right down to the matching suit.

  “He can’t be serious,” Dot muttered.

  The back doors of the van opened, and half a dozen men filed out. Within seconds, they were measuring the front windows as though they’d been around the corner rehearsing their choreography for two hours. If they noticed the large ‘SAVE YOUR LOCAL LIBRARY’ posters in the window, they paid them no attention.

  “I’m still in charge here!” Neil proclaimed as he scurried over and locked the doors from the inside. “Nothing has been signed yet. This is still the public library, and we’re closed.”

  James smirked at Neil with an expression Julia had grown to hate. Though he wasn’t much taller than average, he had a way of looking down on people.

  “I take it you’ve heard the news?” James called through the glass. “They weren’t joking when they said word travels fast around this village.”

  Amy and Evelyn gasped, though Julia suspected the penny had already dropped for the rest of them. Through the glass, James and Neil stared off like an animal and spectator at the zoo. Before Julia had time to figure out which was which, Neil’s clenched fists thrashed against the door. Olivia woke with a startled cry as Barker ran and dragged his brother-in-law back.

  Blurred by growing condensation, James clenched Richie’s shoulders while he said something into his ear. The young man smiled, though his eyes didn’t lift from the puddles on the pavement. Perhaps he had the decency to feel some of the embarrassment his father clearly couldn’t display.

  “Well, there you have it.” Dot collapsed into a chair. “The meetings, the petitions, the letters, the protests . . . months of our lives, for nothing.” She rubbed her wrinkled brow and said, “Johnny, just tell them.”

  Everyone turned to Johnny, whose cheeks reddened in an instant.

  “One of my sources on the council called with a tip-off,” he said, picking up where Dot had left off. “The council have accepted James’s offer. We lost, guys. We’re standing in what will soon be Peridale’s hottest new restaurant.”

  Katie sank into a chair next to Dot. Barker wrapped his hands around Julia’s as she attempted to soothe Olivia’s thrashing against her shoulder. The baby’s cries rattled around the dark corners of the library.

  “And would you look at that!” James called from the street, obviously wanting to be heard. “The rain has stopped for us. What a perfect day.”

  The grey clouds finally parted, and the sun lit up the library with the promise of a few more hours of the July weather Peridale was more accustomed to. As she lifted the lid of Johnny’s laptop, she hated that James Jacobson had been right about the building having great light ‘for a library.’

  The three words on the laptop screen made it all feel real. Clutching Olivia, she sank into a chair of her own. Her sneak peek at Johnny’s headline solidified the worst-case scenario they’d all been avoiding:

  That’s All, Folks!

  Peridale’s library to become restaurant after council’s shock decision to sell historic building.

  2

  I n the garden behind her cottage the following day, Julia watched Olivia’s wide eyes trace the red-breasted robin’s journey around the garden. Julia marvelled that Olivia could see it bouncing around the garden at all, considering the bird was a little blurry even for her. Olivia let out a bright ‘ba’ sound as she crashed together the yellow and pink blocks clenched in her tiny fists. The bird flew with the bang, which Olivia found very funny. Julia joined in. Her daughter’s laughter had become the most infectious sound in the world.

  After halting Olivia’s crawling escape attempt off the blanket and onto the still slightly damp grass, Julia looked up at the robin perched on the branch of a full-leafed beechwood tree. Shielding her eyes from the bright sun behind the bird, she caught the wriggle of a worm hanging from its beak. Biting into her buttery toast, she was glad they hadn’t disturbed the bird’s breakfast.

  “Julia?” Barker, still in his dressing gown, croaked from the back door. “Guest.”

  Before Julia could ask who would visit at twenty past eight on a Sunday morning, he stepped aside to reveal Katie in rare form. Her once-heavy makeup and crisply perfect peroxide-blonde curls had toned down over the years, but she seldom went without anything at all. Julia hadn’t seen such a bare face and scruffy bun since Vincent, Katie’s father, passed away. Olivia hadn’t even been born.

  Katie waited until Barker shuffled towards the kettle before venturing into the garden. Despite the happy face she was pulling for Olivia, Julia could tell Katie hadn’t had an easy night’s sleep.

  “Come to Katie,” she said, scooping up Olivia as she joined them on the blanket. “I think a cuddle with my granddaughter is just what the doctor ordered.”

  Olivia gave Katie a sceptical frown, no doubt taken aback by the unfamiliarity of the woman reaching for her. She accepted the cuddle, though. Perhaps she was picking up on more than the different face.

  “Are we settling on ‘Katie’ then?” Julia asked after swallowing her toast.

  “I don’t think any of the usual grandmother names suit me,” she said, forcing a giggle. “Katie’s just fine. It’s my name, after all.”

  Secretly, Julia was relieved Katie had abandoned her attempts at finding a version that worked for her. She’d been Nana Katie, Granny Katie, Nanny Katie, and Grandma Katie, and none had stuck. Though Katie was technically Julia’s stepmother, the similarity of their ages didn’t help matters. Hearing one of her peers referred to as ‘grandmother’ made her feel ancient in a way she wasn’t ready for – especially not at what her gran called, “The young age of forty.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by like this,” said Katie as she set Olivia back on the blanket next to her blocks. “I did call ahead.”

  Julia patted down her pockets, but as had become the norm lately, she had absolutely no idea where she’d left her phone.

  “I can keep track of a baby and a phone,” she said, glancing towards her bedroom window and wondering if she’d left it in her dressing gown after her shower, “but never both at the same time. It’s somewhere. And I never mind you dropping by. Is everything okay?”

  Katie scooped Mowgli up as he sauntered past, having finished his sunbathing at the bottom of the garden. He was so content he’d spared the robin his attention. With her hands under his furry armpits, Katie held him out at arm’s length. He dangled limply as they assessed each other.

  “Been thinking of getting a cat,” she said, trying to hold him like she would a baby. “I’ve never had one.”

  Mowgli resisted, and Katie proved she’d never had a cat by clinging to him more tightly. He lifted his behind and kicked away, and a warning nail must have dug in somewhere because she released him into the air. He landed on his feet, but his alertness lasted only until the urge to lift his leg and start his morning bath distracted him.

  “Katie, is everything okay?”

  “I-I’m not sure,” she admitted, deflating, “but I think I should cancel the party. Everyone is going to be there. I-I’m not sure I can face it.”

  Julia had expected this conversation the previous night, but when she’d woken up to only one message – a picture from her eldest daughter, Jessie, arriving in Delhi – she’d assumed Katie wasn’t going to back down.

  “I called my gran this morning,” Julia said, resting a hand on Katie’s knee. “According to her, despite the fluidity of the gossip channels in this village at times, this news doesn’t seem to have spread yet. For the time being, it seems only the council and everyone at the library last night know the offer has been accepted. It won’t stay like that for long, but we might get the rest of the day out of it.”

  “But people still blame me, don’t they?”

  Julia gritted her teeth, not wanting to lie while knowing the truth would only make things worse. How could she tell Katie people did blame her? In most people’s eyes, even if Katie wasn’t working with James on some nefarious scheme, she’d brought him to the village by accepting his offer on the manor. Countless times, Julia had pointed out to people in the café, and the post office, and the hairdresser, and the supermarket that in the whole year the manor had been on the market, Katie had received only James’s offer, leaving her, quite literally, with no options.

  “You’re as much a part of this village as anyone else,” Julia reminded her, squeezing her knee. “You’ve lived here your whole life.”

  “Separate, though.” She cast a weary glance in the general direction of Wellington Manor, a feat she seemed capable of no matter where she was in the village. “I overheard someone in the café say I only crawled out of the manor because the money dried up, and it’s hardly a lie, is it?”

  “Don’t do that.” Julia squeezed again. “Don’t look at yourself through their eyes. To those people, the truth is always less interesting than reality. You’re doing what you must to free yourself and your family from debt you weren’t responsible for building. If you want to cancel, you can, and everything will be okay.”

  “I don’t want to,” Katie said, almost reflexively, “but I feel like I should. The timing—”

  “Has been out of your control this whole time,” Julia interjected. “Are you still handing over the keys tomorrow?”

  Sighing, Katie nodded.

  “You only get one chance to say a final goodbye,” Julia whispered. “Even with all the chaos, the manor was still your home for most of your life. Can I be honest?”

  “Always.”

  “By tomorrow, I think you’ll regret having called it off.” Julia smiled, ducking to meet Katie’s eyes. “You’ve worked so hard to plan the party, and the forecast for the day couldn’t be more perfect.”

  “You’re right.” Katie exhaled up at the sun. “Final goodbye. And maybe today is the perfect opportunity to set people straight once and for all. I’ll do it in my speech.”

  “How did the writing go?”

  Katie dug into her back pocket and pulled out a small stack of yellow record cards, all dog-eared and full of scribblings and crossed-out words, that she’d taken from Barker’s supply of office stationery. Every time Julia had popped into the café – a near-daily event, even while not working – Katie was working on her speech between customers.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Katie clutched the cards close; she’d refused Julia the first time she’d asked to read their contents, so she hadn’t asked again. “There’s too much to say.”

  Julia repeated her earlier advice: “Talk from the heart.” She stood and lifted Olivia. “You only have to be yourself, Katie.” She caught Olivia as she wildly reached out for a passing butterfly. “Now, I’ll hunt down my elusive phone, and if you still want to go ahead with the party, I’ll come to the manor to help with the set up.”

  “Would you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  After passing Barker, slouched over a steaming cup of black coffee at the breakfast bar, Julia carried Olivia into her nursery. When they’d redecorated the spare bedroom before Christmas, it had been the brightest room in the house even during winter. Now that summer had arrived, the bright yellow and white paint positively glowed in a way that always made Julia glad to be in there.

  When Olivia was strapped into her pram, Julia marched around the room, picking up what she’d need with almost military precision. Changes of clothes. Toys. Nappies. Changing mat. Wipes. Talc. Lotion. And the rest. During the hunt, she found her phone on the changing table underneath Olivia’s shiny mat. She topped the bag with enough bottled formula and jars of baby food to last the entire day and joined Katie, flicking through her notecards, by the door.

  “Ready?” Julia asked.

  “Nope.” Katie slotted the cards away and pulled open the door. “But you were right. I only have one chance for a last goodbye, and I’m not going to miss it for all the gossips in Peridale.”

  Wellington Manor was so much part of the village that most simply referred to it as Peridale Manor. Built from golden Cotswold stone, the house – if something so grand could be called that – was nestled deep in its own pocket of the countryside. With lawns sprawling out in every direction until they hit dense woodland, not a single angle lacked a postcard-perfect view.

  Until Julia’s life became intertwined with the Wellingtons via Katie marrying into her family, she’d never had much reason to visit. Now, she’d seen the grand building appear at the top of its winding private driveway countless times. Its grandeur rarely failed to capture her attention.

  “My father always joked that my great-great-great-great-grandfather was overcompensating for something when he built this place.” Katie peered up at the house over the steering wheel. “Earl Philip Wellington.”

  Katie drove past a white van, open enough at the back for Julia to see the two pairs of legs dangling from it. Without needing to think about it too long, Julia knew exactly who one pair of the shiny, expensive-looking shoes belonged to.

  “This Earl,” Julia said as they pulled up on an angle away from the van; Katie didn’t seem to have noticed them yet. “Does that mean you’re descended from nobility? Barker asked me about it the other day, and I realised I had absolutely no idea.”

  “Oh.” Katie scratched at her messy bun, and her bare cheeks revealed every blushing drop of blood that rose to the surface. “That might have been a lie. That’s what my father said, at least. According to him, Grandfather Philip started calling himself Earl Wellington when he moved here, and nobody questioned it. It wasn’t like they had Google in the 1800s.”

  “And nobody knows?”

  “It was passed down in the family, and we were all sworn to secrecy.” Katie peered up at the house again. “Part of me can’t believe I just admitted that out loud. I don’t think I ever have. Not even to your father.” She paused to smile. “But as soon as I said it, I remembered that all the people I was keeping that secret for are dead. According to my father, ‘It’s what separates us from them.’”

  Katie reached out to open the door, but her fresh set of pale lavender acrylics didn’t quite wrap around the handle.

  “I thought getting rid of this place would fix everything,” she whispered, looking directly at Julia. “Why does it feel like it’s only making things worse?”

  “After tomorrow, this place will be someone else’s problem, and you’ll be debt-free by the end of the day.” Julia opened her door, smiling at Katie. “Don’t lose sight of why you’re doing this. You didn’t come to this decision overnight, and . . .”

  A figure came into Julia’s peripheral vision. James, who she’d assumed was in the back of the van, walked backwards in front of her car, carrying something as large as a washing machine concealed under a white sheet. His son held up the other side, once again dressed identically to his father.