The Peridale Cafe Cozy Box Set 4 Page 62

  “You never said anything.” Julia suddenly felt guilty, sixteen years too late. “If I’d have known—”

  “I never said anything because I didn’t want my feelings to impact your decisions,” Dot cut her off and slapped her on the knee. “Now, if I’d have known what kind of man Jerrad would turn out to be, I might have put up more of a fight, but it wasn’t my place. I had to let you go to live your own life. You needed to go out there to make your mistakes and figure out who you were. And look how you turned out! You’re a kind, compassionate, caring, inquisitive, determined woman, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

  “Oh, Gran, I—”

  “My point is,” Dot interrupted again, “who knows who you would have turned out to be if I’d clung to you and not let go. I wanted to, but I didn’t. You might be the exact same woman you are now, or you might have turned out completely different. You’d be less resilient, that’s for sure. It might have taken you twelve years, but you came home eventually. I always knew you would—I just selfishly hoped you’d come home before I ended up in an urn on your fireplace. If you hadn’t that would have been okay too. We get one life, Julia, and it’s not as long as you think. The decades go by faster than I like to acknowledge, and it scares the living daylights out of me, not that I let on. I might be eighty-five on the outside, but inside, I can still run for that bus and spring out of bed in the morning, even if my body doesn’t quite agree. Let Jessie figure out who she is. If you make her feel guilty about leaving, she might never go, and is that what you really want for her?”

  Julia shook her head.

  “She’ll always be your daughter.” Dot tapped her knee again before standing up. “Whether she’s in Peridale or Timbuktu, she’ll never really leave you. Now, stop wallowing! I raised you better than that! You’re a South woman, act like it!”

  With that, Dot marched off to boss around the decorators. Julia sat in the echo of her gran’s words, more grateful for her wisdom than she could ever express. Feeling more together, Julia stood and shook away her sorrow. She decided she would talk to Jessie like the adult she was the first chance she got—but until then, she still had a mystery to unravel.

  Promising Dot she would be back later with the buffet food, Julia left the village hall and jumped into her car. She pulled out her notepad and pen and flicked to her notes. She circled Camila’s name before tossing the notepad onto the passenger seat and setting off. Determined that she would speak to the widow before the day was over, Julia set off in search of her.

  She started at the riding school, which felt like the obvious place. Even though it was still within school hours, the yard was busy with the adults and older teens. One of them let Julia in by opening the gate, and she drove in, careful to be vigilant after Florence’s story.

  “Nice car.” Florence slapped the roof after walking over. “Vintage. I like it. Changed your mind about the lessons?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Don’t sweat it.” Florence winked. “I asked my mum about you. She remembers every kid she ever taught here before I took over, and Julia South didn’t ring a bell with her. Although, she remembered a Sue South.”

  “Busted.” Julia held up her hands. “That would be my sister. I did come here to ride once, but a horse threw me off and put me off for life.”

  “Wise woman. I can barely feel my buttocks anymore after being thrown off so many times over the years.” Florence folded her arms and peered down at Julia. “And that’s not to mention the broken bones. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit if you’re not here to ride?”

  “Camila?” Julia asked. “Is she around?”

  Florence sucked the air through her teeth as she shook her head.

  “Haven’t seen her since you scared her off yesterday.”

  “Oh.”

  “That’s not unusual,” Florence said quickly. “She’s not one of those who comes every day. She has more sense than that. She pays for full livery, so we look after her horse, and she drops in when she feels like it.”

  “How often is that?”

  “Couple times a week.” Florence shook her head from side to side. “Sometimes less. She’s a fair-weather rider, so we only see her when it’s dry. She might drop by today, but it’s unlikely. I don’t think she’s ever been two days in a row before. Maybe she’ll break the habit of a lifetime, but I doubt it.”

  Julia considered her next move for a moment. She’d hoped Camila would be waiting for her at the yard, but she hadn’t planned what to do if she wasn’t.

  “Do you know where she lives?” Julia asked.

  “Nope.” Florence pursed her lips. “And you should know better than to ask me that. You run a café. I could get in trouble for telling you even if I did know. I think she lives in Riverswick, but that’s about it. Are you sure I can’t tempt you to ride? Samson can be tacked up and ready for you in five minutes. Just say the word.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  “Shame.” Florence sighed. “I’m bored and quite fancied a laugh. Never mind, eh? Like you said, next time.”

  “Can you call me if she turns up?” Julia opened her car door and grabbed the pen and pad from the seat. “Here’s my mobile and my house number.”

  “You know them both off by heart?”

  “I recently had reason to learn them.” Julia tore the paper out of the pad and handed it over. “Please?”

  “What’s in it for me?” Florence looked at the paper before folding it and pocketing it in her quilted jacket.

  “Free coffee and cake next time you’re in the village.”

  “Make it the whole cake, and I’m there.”

  “Deal.” Julia held her hand, and Florence shook it. “Thank you.”

  Leaving Florence to her horses, Julia drove back up the lane, passing her cottage in the process. She felt bad for leaving Vinnie with Barker, but she knew it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Considering where she was heading next, it was for the best that Barker was fully occupied.

  Instead of parking in the car park in the middle of Fern Moore, she tucked her car on a quiet country lane ten minutes away. She could see the estate on the horizon, far enough to at least protect her car, but also close enough to run to if she needed to.

  Not wanting to risk coming across as a ‘Peridale Princess’, she dug Barker’s black raincoat out of the boot, which had been there since they’d driven three hours north to climb the historic Pendle Hill on one quiet, wet Sunday last summer. She exchanged it for her pink peacoat, zipped it to the chin, and pulled the hood up.

  Keeping her head down and her hands in her pockets, Julia walked to the estate as quickly as she dared. She wasn’t sure whether she was incredibly stupid or incredibly brave to return less than a week after her previous visit. Either way, she kept her head down as low as she could, letting her feet take her to the stairwell she had escaped up.

  She passed the phone box and took the stairs two at a time. The horrible thought that she’d be trapped if the gang were somehow walking down the same stairwell took over her mind, causing her to hold her breath until she reached Addie’s floor. She didn’t allow herself to glance up until she was at Addie’s front door. Pulling her hood down so as not to scare the woman, Julia reached through the bars and knocked. While she waited, she peeked over the edge of the balcony. The playground and courtyard looked empty, with all the shadowy nooks and crannies, she couldn’t feel fully at ease.

  “Hello?” Addie’s familiar voice floated through the chained crack in the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Julia,” she replied, unzipping the black coat. “Remember me? I was here last week.”

  The door closed, and a minute later, the chain rattled, and the door reopened.

  “Don’t mind me, dear,” Addie said as she unlocked the front gate. “Had to pop my teeth in. You’ll understand when you get to my age. Do come in.”

  Addie swung open the gate and stepped to the side, letting Julia in. The BBC News at One was playin
g silently on the television, subtitles running across the bottom of the screen. A cracked open boiled egg sat on the table, with a plate of toast soldiers next to it.

  “Have I disturbed your lunch?” Julia asked.

  “Oh, it’s okay, dear!” Addie ushered Julia further into the flat. “It’s better to get these things out of the way. Do you need a pen and paper?”

  Addie bent over and opened a small cupboard next to an overstuffed bookcase.

  “A pen and paper?” Julia asked.

  “For the gas meter reading?” Addie said. “I did call weeks ago.”

  Julia’s heart panged; the sweet old lady had no idea who she was.

  “A pen and paper would be lovely,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

  Unsure if she was doing the right thing by playing along, Julia let Addie run off to the kitchen to grab her the items. While alone, she crept over to Oliver’s bedroom door and knocked, but there was no answer.

  “Here you go.” Addie returned and handed Julia the pen and paper. “Do you mind if I finish my lunch? You don’t need my help.”

  “No, that’s all right.”

  Julia settled onto her knees on the floral carpet and jotted down Addie’s meter readings. She had no idea what she was going to do with them, but she felt compelled to play along since she had come this far. While she was down there, it struck her how easy it would be for someone to lie their way into her flat, even with the gate.

  “All done,” Julia announced after closing the cupboard door and standing up. “I’ll make sure to get these figures sent off to the … erm … gas people.”

  “You do that.” Addie wagged her finger above her head as she squinted at the TV. “I feel like I’m forever topping up the gas! How much could a woman like me really use on her own? The thing must be faulty.”

  “You live here alone?” Julia asked, fighting the sudden urge to break down and cry. “There are two sets of shoes next to the door. One of them looks like a man’s shoes.”

  “What’s that, dear?” Addie glanced over her shoulder.

  “Men’s shoes?”

  “Oh, those will belong to…” Addie scrunched up her face and snapped her fingers repeatedly. “It’ll come to me. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Old memory isn’t what it was. Oh, what was it? Lovely young lad. He’s always doing things for me.”

  “Oliver?”

  “Oliver!” Addie slapped her hand on the sofa. “That’s it! Thank you, dear.”

  Addie didn’t ask how Julia knew her lodger’s name. She dunked her toast into her boiled egg and continued reading the words on the screen. Julia softly knocked on Oliver’s door again, but there was no answer. She almost told Addie to tell Oliver she’d dropped by, but she knew it would be useless. Instead, she used the pen and paper Addie had given her and scribbled her number on the back of the gas meter numbers along with her name and a message to call her. She slipped it under Oliver’s bedroom door.

  “I’ll be going then.”

  “Drop by again, dear!” Addie waved over her shoulder. “It was lovely to see you.”

  Leaving Addie to her eggs and news, Julia slipped out of the flat, closing the door and gate behind her. It hurt to think of anyone losing themselves in such a way, but at least Addie had Oliver there to look after her the best he could.

  Pushing Addie’s condition to the back of her mind, Julia covered herself up again and set off back to her car. As she hurried across the courtyard, she was sure she heard the grumble of a bunch of teenage boys, but she didn’t look up to check. Once she was out of view of the estate, she ran down the lane, not stopping until she was safely back at the car.

  Quickly checking her phone let her know Barker wasn’t wondering where she was. She felt guilty that he thought she was at the village hall helping Dot all afternoon, but he’d try to stop her if he knew she was running around in search of Camila. She couldn’t blame him, but this was something she felt she needed to do, and if it resulted in answers, it would be worth it.

  Safely away from the estate, Julia contentedly gathered her thoughts and planned her next move. With Florence not knowing where Camila lived and Oliver not being home, Julia’s options were limited. She toyed with the idea of calling Christie to ask, but after his heartfelt confessions at the pub, she doubted he would be in any mood to talk to her. Even with Christie out of the question, there was still a possibility that Oliver would return to Addie’s flat and see the note; he might only have run out to grab bread from the shop. On the other hand, he could be out job-hunting and might not get back until after sunset.

  Knowing she couldn’t sit in the lane waiting for her phone to ring, Julia pushed her keys into the ignition. As she looked down at her handbrake, the notepad on the driver’s seat caught her attention. It was open to a page detailing everything Bev had told her.

  “It was Bev’s home before it was Camila’s,” Julia thought aloud as she lifted her handbrake and put her car into first gear.

  Two out of two times she had visited Little Tots Treasures, Bev had been there. Hoping to make it a lucky three, Julia drove straight there. The car park was almost empty, but the grinning pirate monkey on the side of the building gave her a glimmer of hope that the answers she sought were inside.

  After locking her car, Julia walked towards the entrance. Would they find it odd that she was there without a child, or would she be able to lie her way in and say she was waiting for her husband to arrive? Either way, she’d had well over a week to find out Camila’s address. She hadn’t given the Spanish widow much thought until Christie told her about the PI. Now that it was possible Camila had paid someone to follow Tony, Julia wanted to know what she had uncovered about her husband, and if it was enough to give her a motive to murder.

  Despite her worrying, her lie about waiting for her husband didn’t raise any eyebrows. She walked straight through to the coffee shop, where two women were sat sipping coffee and scrolling through their phones while their small ones played in the ball pit. Julia was disappointed when she was greeted by the young woman who had left her to go on a break during Julia’s first visit.

  “Cup of tea, please,” Julia ordered as she dug out the change in her purse.

  “Milk and sugar?” the girl asked flatly as she punched on the till’s screen.

  “No, thank you.”

  After Julia paid, the girl turned to make the tea. When she was finished, she turned back and hit it forcefully on the counter with the laziest fake smile Julia had ever seen.

  “Is Bev around?” Julia asked as she scanned the cakes in the display case. “I’m a friend.”

  “Bev has friends?” The girl snorted. “She quit.”

  “Quit? When?”

  “Not much of a friend, are you?” The girl rolled her eyes before blowing a large pink chewing gum bubble. “This morning. Stormed in and made a big song and dance about leaving here to start a new life. Dunno what new life. Maybe she’s going back to the farm to join the other pigs?”

  The girl found her joke hilarious, but Julia didn’t. She stared coldly at the insolent girl, waiting for her to stop laughing. When she finally finished, Julia had developed a newfound respect for Bev. Deep down, she was a nice woman, and yet people were unnecessarily cruel to her.

  “Do you know where she lives?” Julia asked, her nostrils flaring.

  “Nah.” She shook her head while checking her nails. “I thought you were her friend?”

  “Will anyone here know her address?” Julia pushed. “It really is very important.”

  The girl shrugged, but when she seemed to realise Julia wasn’t going to go away until she found out, she rolled her eyes and plodded into the kitchen.

  “Pat?” she cried, her voice echoing. “Do you know where Bev lives? I know she tried forcing you to be her friend. Did you ever go to her house?”

  “Who wants to know?” Pat called back from somewhere within the kitchen.

  “Dunno. Some woman. Said she’s her friend.”
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br />   “Friend?” Pat called back, a laugh in her voice. “I need to see this.”

  Pat emerged through the staff door in chef’s whites rubbing her hands on a tea towel.

  “Are you police?” Pat asked, crossing her thick arms as she stared down her nose at Julia.

  “No,” Julia replied. “I met Bev recently. Do you know where she lives?”

  “Cottage in Riverswick.”

  “Do you know the house number?”

  Pat shrugged.

  “Street name?”

  Pat shrugged again.

  “Anything?”

  “Was next to a shop.”

  “What kind of shop?”

  “Bookshop, I think.” Pat gave yet another shrug. “I was drunk, and it was dark. I only went once after last year’s Christmas party. Pub closed, and she said she had some vodka. Turned out she didn’t, so I left.”

  Julia didn’t bother thanking either woman. Leaving her tea behind, she walked to her car, glad Bev had quit working at a place with such horrid people. She had no idea what Bev had planned for her new life, but she hoped it involved surrounding herself with better people.

  Once back in her car, Julia checked to see if Oliver had called, but her notification wall was blank. She wasn’t too disappointed. Now that she had an idea where Bev lived, she had a hope of finding Camila before the party.

  Riverswick, a village like Peridale in size and scale, was another sleepy Cotswold dwelling place with historical cottages built from honey-coloured stone. It was popular with tourists, thanks to the river that ran through the heart of the village, which always had at least one narrowboat floating up and down its calm waters.