Blueberry Muffins and Misfortune Page 7

  “Have you seen the paper?” Dot asked as she slathered butter on a slice of bread. “Johnny has really outdone himself with this week’s headline.”

  Dot nodded at a pile of newspapers on the sideboard, the top one the most recent edition of The Peridale Post. Julia usually picked up the new issue from the post office, but her attention had been in other places.

  “‘Book Launch Body Bombshell’,” Julia read aloud as she straightened out the paper with one hand while ladling the thin stew with the other. “Oh dear, Johnny. Did you have to pick that picture for the cover?”

  Julia showed the paper to Jessie, who snorted a chuckle as she accepted the ladle.

  “At least they blurred it out,” Dot said, reaching across and stabbing her finger on picture that revealed Julia’s dress opening as Barker yanked her away from the falling roll of yellow insulation, which was floating in front of their faces as it fell to the ground. “I might visit the B&B and ask Evelyn to use her Ouija board to let Mabel know she’s made the front page. If she wasn’t already dead, she’d have died from excitement.”

  Julia skim read the article, which detailed the launch of Barker’s book and the event surrounding the incident. She flicked to pages four and five where Johnny’s photographs of the library filled the spread. They had printed the picture of Mabel’s foot poking out of the roll, but they at least had the decency to do her the same courtesy as Julia and blur it out, leaving it to the reader’s imagination.

  “Can I cut that one out to frame it?” Jessie asked, poking at a small picture of Izzy sprawled across the floor covered in dust, her arms protecting her face. “It’s a shame she had to step back when she did. Mabel could have done to Izzy what Dorothy’s house did to The Wicked Witch of the West.”

  Alfie and Billy both sniggered into their stew bowls, their heads dropping as they glanced at each other.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were my own flesh and blood,” Dot said with a proud twinkle in her eye. “I heard you got a little creative with a muffin on her car.”

  “Let’s not talk about muffins,” Julia said as she folded up the paper to toss it back onto the pile before returning to her stew. “I thought it was a good sign that I’d sold out so quickly, but it turns out it was only because people were expecting them to taste like the ones from the book launch. Four people brought them back to complain!”

  “I’ve heard rave reviews about those blueberry muffins you made for the party,” Dot mumbled through a mouthful of stew as the gravy dribbled down her chin and onto the napkin strategically placed on her lap. “I didn’t get to try one, but Amy Clark swears they were the best thing you’ve ever made.”

  “They were the best thing someone had made,” Jessie whispered into her stew. “Maybe it’s time to confess the truth, cake lady?”

  “The truth?” Dot asked, a brow arching. “What have you been up to?”

  Julia sighed as she dropped her spoon into the stew. Alfie, Billy, and Jessie all knew about her fraud, so she decided there was no use keeping it from Dot too.

  “I didn’t bake them,” Julia admitted. “I was going to, but my oven broke, so we had to get creative.”

  “I got creative!” Jessie corrected as she stared down her nose at Julia. “The genius plan was my idea! I bought them from a shop, but I didn’t think they’d be the best muffins of Julia’s career.”

  Dot’s jaw slackened, a grin pricking the corners as she stared at Julia.

  “Well, well, well, Julia,” Dot said as she leaned back in her chair. “You are human after all. You passed off shop bought muffins as your own, and now everyone prefers them. What would the neighbours say?”

  “They’ll say nothing because you’re not going to say anything, are you, Gran?” Julia ordered. “I need a little time to perfect my recipe. People are confused.”

  “Maybe they’re just better,” Jessie said with a shrug. “There’s no shame in it, cake lady. You’re the best baker in Peridale, but maybe muffins aren’t your strong point.”

  “But everyone liked them before.”

  “Until they knew better,” Dot said as she resumed slurping up her stew. “I never got to try one, but if they’re as good as everyone’s been saying, I’m starting to wonder what I’m missing out on. You know, I’m sure Mabel loved blueberry muffins. Maybe she could smell them, and that’s why she crashed the party?”

  Dot chuckled to herself as she chewed a tough piece of beef. Julia was glad her gran’s tears had turned to humour. Dot had never been one to wallow for too long. She usually bounced back, thanks to her wicked sense of humour and a razor-sharp tongue.

  “I was thinking about visiting Peter tonight,” Dot said, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Alfie and Billy. “Visiting finishes at eight. I know he’s still unconscious, but I feel like I should at least see him one last time just in case the worst happens. I was looking through my old albums last night and remembering the good times. Peter isn’t a bad guy, he just wasn’t right for Mabel. She settled and married the first man who asked her to dance.”

  “Can I come with you?” Julia asked, the clock showing it was only six-thirty. “If any of his family are there, it would be a good chance to talk to them. I feel like there’s much more to the Crumps than they’re letting us see.”

  “The only other person I knew who could sniff out the truth like you just fell through a ceiling,” Dot said as she dunked a buttered slice of bread into the stew’s gravy. “Since Mabel can’t figure out her own death, I have full faith in you.”

  They finished their meal, which tasted slightly nicer than it looked, if not a little too salty for Julia’s tastes. After mopping up the gravy with bread, she pushed her bowl away and waited for Dot to do the same after helping herself to a second serving. Billy also did the same, leaving Alfie and Jessie to turn to their phones, both sets of thumbs typing rapidly on the screen.

  At first, Julia thought they might have been talking to each other, but the smile on Alfie’s face let her know he was talking to Kylie. Jessie frowned at him more than once when she spotted the smile, and when Alfie noticed her looking, he forced it away, but it always sprang back when he looked at his phone. Jessie, on the other hand, had a sterner expression as she tapped on her screen. The people she usually talked to on her phone were sitting in the room with her, which made Julia more than a little curious as to with whom she was corresponding.

  “Right!” Dot exclaimed, screwing up her napkin as she jumped up. “Let’s go! That was rather delicious if I do say so myself. I should really write these recipes down as I make them because I have no idea what I threw in that cooking pot.”

  Julia’s tongue flicked against a stringy piece of beef wedged in between her teeth, but she simply nodded, not wanting to hurt her gran’s feelings.

  After putting on their shoes in the hallway, Julia and Dot headed to the front door, ready to walk across the village green to Julia’s car, which was still parked in between the café and the post office. Julia reached for the door at the same time a heavy set of knuckles rapped on the frosted glass panel on the other side.

  “I’m not expecting anyone,” Dot said, pushing past Julia to open the door. “It’s probably one of those bloody salesmen who can’t read the sign in the – Barker! I thought you were in London?”

  Dot swung the door open to reveal Barker standing on the doorstep, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. The washes of orange and pink in the backdrop of the evening sky matched perfectly with the floral hues in his hand. He smiled as though he was presenting the flowers on a first date, his eyes letting her know his lips were unsure of what to say.

  “How did you know I was here?” Julia asked.

  “Jessie told me,” Barker said, nodding at Jessie, who was standing in the dining room doorway, her phone clutched in her hand. “I finished all my meetings, so I got the train back to come and see you. I need to go back tomorrow, but I’m yours for tonight. Izzy has booked me a slot on Chatty Women. Can you
believe it?”

  The mention of Izzy’s name made the hairs on Julia’s neck stand to attention. She wanted to be angry at Barker for spending the night in a hotel room with his young and flirtatious publicist, even if he did only sleep on the couch. The look in his eyes said everything she needed to know; he knew she was upset with him, but he did not know why.

  “I hate the women on those panel chat shows,” Dot said, breaking the awkward silence. “If I wanted to watch a group of divorced menopausal women talking about men and shoes, I’d spend a morning in the doctor’s waiting room.”

  “Izzy said it’s good exposure,” Barker said, looking down at the flowers with a slight frown. “About a million people will see it, although Izzy said we don’t even need those shows because we’re selling so well thanks to the press coverage of what happened at the library. She thinks we’ll land in the top twenty on the best sellers list.”

  “You can tell us about it on the way,” Dot said, grabbing her jacket from the hook on the wall. “You can drive. We were just going to visit Peter at the hospital. I’ll take those.” Dot grabbed the flowers from Barker before scurrying down the path towards his car. “We can’t go empty handed, can we? You can buy Julia a bigger apology bouquet tomorrow. She deserves better than the floral offerings of the local motorway service station.”

  “Noted,” Barker said, his apologetic smile trained on Julia. “Are we – are we okay? I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. This whole book launch has swept me away.”

  “It’s not that,” Julia said, unsure if they were ‘okay’ or not. “We’ll talk about it later. We should set off before we miss visiting.”

  Barker talked about all the exciting things he had been doing in London as they drove to the hospital where Peter Crump was a patient. Julia was bursting at the seams with pride for Barker’s success, but it was hard to keep reminding herself of that when every story contained at least three references to Izzy. When they finally found a parking space in the giant car park, even Dot looked tired of hearing about the publicist.

  “If he doesn’t already know, he never will,” Dot whispered when Barker walked to the pay and display ticket machine. “Men think they know everything, even if they are oblivious to the young blondes under their noses.”

  “I trust him,” Julia said, her voice shaking. “Barker isn’t like that.”

  “He’s a man, dear,” Dot said as she adjusted the yellow carnations in the bouquet. “He might not realise he has a shark circling him until he jumps into the water with a cut foot.”

  They fell silent when Barker returned with the parking ticket. After sticking it to the inside of his windshield, he looped his fingers through Julia’s, and they set off to the entrance of the hospital. She could not help but notice the stiffness to his touch.

  Dot told the young man behind the reception desk that she was Peter’s sister, ensuring he divulged the location of his room without asking any questions. They travelled up to the third floor and walked down the network of corridors, passing the entrance to the maternity wing where Barker had proposed to Julia on Christmas Day after Sue had given birth to the twins. The memory made her smile, and it was a nice reminder of Barker’s commitment to her; it settled the green-eyed monster for now.

  When they reached the entrance to the coronary care unit, Dot marched straight in, waving her palm under a hand sanitizer dispenser.

  “Excuse me, ma’am!” a young nurse cried, jumping up from behind the reception desk. “I’m sorry, but you can’t bring flowers in here!”

  “Why ever not?” Dot asked, her hands popping onto her hips, turning the flowers upside down and sprinkling the petals onto the floor. “I know they’re not the nicest looking bunch, but it’s the thought that counts.”

  “We can’t risk cross contamination with the patients,” replied the nurse. “There are a lot of sick people on this ward and we don’t know what those flowers are bringing in.”

  Julia expected Dot to put up a fight, but she simply shrugged and tossed the flowers into a metal bin.

  “It’s not like he’s awake,” Dot said with a shrug. “Can’t say I didn’t put in the effort.”

  “You didn’t,” Barker whispered, pouting down at Julia. “Your gran is unbelievable.”

  “I heard that!” Dot called over her shoulder. “My ears are still very much in full working order, I’ll have you know.”

  Julia suppressed a smile as they made their way down the long and overly bright corridor. The smile dropped when she saw the sick and fragile people through the windows of the rooms. They reached Peter’s room, but if it had not been for Shannon sleeping in the chair next to his bed, she might not have recognised the old man. With tubes snaking from his face and hands, he looked even frailer than he had at the party.

  Dot cracked open the door, causing Shannon to sit bolt upright in her chair. She squinted at them through half-closed eyes before turning to Peter.

  “I hoped it had all been a dream,” she groaned as she flattened down the back of her bushy straw-like hair. “What are you doing here?”

  The question had been directed at Dot, who shuffled on the spot, her hands clasping together as she looked at Peter. For a moment, Julia thought she might start crying, but she stiffened her spine and poked out her chin.

  “I knew your grandfather before you were even born, Shannon,” Dot said stiffly. “I wanted to see him while I had the chance.”

  Shannon nodded and did not put up a fight. She rubbed at her eyes before standing up and walking over to the window. Arms crossed, she looked down at the car park as the sun faded from the evening sky.

  “I’ve been working so much, I haven’t had much chance to sleep,” Shannon explained. “Shelby’s on holiday, so she’s left me in charge of the pub. I would have said no, but I’m not in a position to turn down money at the moment. I didn’t even realise I’d fallen asleep.”

  “Why don’t we get a coffee?” Julia asked, nodding to the door. “You look like you need one.”

  The offer of a drink pricked the corners of Shannon’s lips. Leaving Dot alone with Peter, the three of them walked down the quiet corridor towards the vending machine. Barker produced a handful of change from his pocket and got to work making the drinks.

  “I remember where I recognise you from,” Shannon said, nodding at Julia with squinted eyes. “It’s been niggling at me since the party. Did you babysit me when you were a teenager?”

  “In between my weekend shifts at the café,” Julia said. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “You used to look after me when my mum was working at the pub sometimes during the week.” Shannon accepted the first cup of coffee. “Mum couldn’t cook anything that didn’t come out of a microwave, but you used to bring all the ingredients to make fairy cakes. I loved that.”

  “I remember,” Julia said, the memory making her smile. “The money your mum gave me barely covered what I’d spent buying the ingredients. You were a natural. Do you still bake?”

  “I wish I had the time,” Shannon replied as she snapped off the lid from the cup to blow on the hot surface of the milky coffee. “I thought I was moving back to Peridale to give my daughter a quieter life, but I’m starting to think I was looking back at this place through rose-tinted glasses. After Grandma left, I didn’t think I had much left for me here.”

  “Were you close to your gran?”

  “We told each other everything,” Shannon said with a sad smile. “There wasn’t a day that passed that I didn’t miss her, but it was easier to cope with when I thought she was living a new life in Spain. Now, there’s nothing. I think about her, and all I can see is darkness.”

  “I suppose looking back, it didn’t make much sense for Mabel to run off to Spain,” Julia said as she accepted her coffee from Barker. “It’s not like she didn’t have a life here.”

  “What do you mean?” Shannon replied, her brows knitting together. “Grandma did move to Spain. That’s why I was so confused when she turned up li
ke she did.”

  Barker’s ears pricked up and he suddenly spun around to face them as the final coffee poured itself.

  “Are you sure?” Barker asked, slithering into his detective inspector role. “Can you prove that?”

  “I drove her to the airport!” Shannon revealed with an awkward laugh after sipping her coffee. “As I said, she told me everything. I thought she was crazy at first, but she looked so happy when she talked about Antonio. I knew she wasn’t happy with Grandad, and I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever seen them so much as smile at each other. She found Antonio in a chat room dedicated to William Shakespeare, and they hit it off. He was in his fifties, and he was quite handsome from what I can remember.” Shannon paused to sip her coffee again, her eyes glazing over as she travelled back in time. “It was the weekend before Grandad’s eightieth birthday party. Uncle Keith planned a huge surprise party at The Plough. Grandma acted strange all night, but she couldn’t stop smiling. I knew something was going on, so I asked her, and she told me what she was planning to do. She made me promise to keep it a secret, so I did. I tried to talk her out of it, but she’d already bought her ticket. I knew she must have been serious because she did it all online, and she had never been very good with computers. On the day she planned to leave, I helped her pack while Grandad was at the dentist. I drove her to the airport, and I watched her walk through the gate.”

  “Maybe she turned around and changed her mind?” Barker speculated as he forced a plastic lid onto his coffee. “It’s not unusual to get cold feet when you’re doing something that life-changing.”

  “She landed in Spain,” Shannon said firmly, her brows pinching together again. “She called me the second she got to Antonio’s villa. She was so happy. When everyone realised what she’d done, I kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want anyone knowing I’d helped her. I think I was the only one happy that she’d taken the leap. She called me every Friday night to fill me in on everything. It sounded like Antonio treated her like a queen. She talked about their romantic meals and their walks on the beach. I was happy for her. She even sent me an envelope of pictures, but she didn’t give me a return address. I think she thought we’d come after her to drag her back, but we all moved on. My mum split up with my dad about three weeks later, and then we moved to Wales. Kylie stayed here, but she always was the difficult one in the family. It wasn’t until I’d settled into our new home in Wales that I realised the weekly phone calls stopped. I waited for some kind of communication, but it never came. I just assumed she was having too much of a good time. I should have known something was wrong.”