Page 132 of Not That Ridiculous

Suzanne was in her early seventies, she did not suffer fools, and I’d heard the reluctance in her voice although she’d tried to hide it. She lived in the flat over her shop and was a hardcore introvert who liked her privacy. I was touched that she’d even offer her sofa. I liked her enough not to accept.

Besides. I doubted that she’d feed me toast and scrambled eggs, pack my bag for me, and send me off all ready for my day quite like Adam did.

“Where are you staying?” she asked.

“Adam and Ray’s.”

She snorted. “Got yourself a little murder house support group going on, have you?” she said.

I smiled despite myself. “God, donotsay that to anyone else.”

“Too late. There are three customers in my shop right now, they all heard, and I’m reading the local paper. Surprise! You and your boyfriend, Kevin the Chipping Fairford Corpse Finder, are in it.”

“Kevin the…? A man finds a dead body more than once and suddenly he’s a ‘corpse finder’?” I assumed she could tell from my disgusted tone of voice that I said this last bit with air quotes.

“You can’t deny he’s got a knack. Most people go their whole lives without ripping up someone’s bedroom and finding a dead body. Just saying.”

“Suzanne.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Tell me that you’re not reading a dodgy article in theInquirer.”

“Inquirer’smostly online these days, you know that. This is the Oxford rag.”

“Fantastic.”

“Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t read the paper.”

“Is it bad?”

“They gave your boyfriend a catchy nickname. What do you think?”

I groaned. “Thanks, Suzanne. I’ll let you know when things look like they’re going to get back to normal, but until then, assume Phil’s taken care of.”

We said goodbye and hung up. I stared at the phone screen.

It was very kind of her to check up on me and offer me somewhere to stay.

I wished myboyfriendthe Chipping Fairford Corpse Finder had thought to extend the same courtesy.

But, no.

No matter how hard I stared at my phone, or how many times I opened our last text conversation to see if there was a message I’d somehow missed, there was emphatically no contact from Kevin.

It was fine, I told myself. He’d had a shock, too.

In fact, he’d taken it a lot harder than I had.

I didn’t want to be all judgmental about it, but up until his vanishing act, I’d considered Kevin to be the most steady, sturdy, unflappable man I’d ever met. It was one of the many things I loved about him.

I thought about calling him, but decided there wasn’t much point when he’d be in any minute for his coffee.

I’d prefer to ask him how he was doing face to face, anyway.

Pippa came bustling into the back, and yelped when she saw me lurking by the door. “Charlie!” She dumped the tray of dirty cups she was carrying, rushed over, and snatched me into a cashmere-soft and Chanel-scented hug. “You poor thing!” She attempted to draw my head down onto her shoulder but was about a foot too short. She settled for swaying me gently side to side.

“Morning,” I said.

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