Page 56 of A Very Bookish Murder
‘Sounds a good idea,’ Millie remarked.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ Ally continued. ‘I’ll come up with a subject on which we can all brainstorm ideas. Perhaps you could either write a short story, or perhaps you could use some of the ideas in your next novel? How does that sound?’
‘I’m up for it!’ Penelope said. ‘Then we can have a nap before our dinner later.’
‘Yes, there’ll be plenty time for a nap,’ Ally assured her. ‘See you all at one o’clock in the sitting room next door!’
Ally had left a message for Laura with the receptionist at the Craigmonie but didn’t really expect her to appear. Which she didn’t. Ally was still convinced that Laura wasn’t the killer, even if she had admitted that killing Jodi had been her original intention.
When, at lunchtime, Ally entered the sitting room, followed by Ross with a large tray of newly made – by him – sandwiches, she was pleased to see her four lady guests already seated, notebooks on their knees, and looking enthusiastic in spite of the rain lashing against the window.
‘I’ll bring coffee in later,’ Ross said, giving them all a dazzling smile as he placed the sandwiches on the coffee table between them all.
‘You have him well trained!’ remarked Brigitte when he’d left the room.
‘He’s just a nice guy,’ Ally agreed.
‘You hang on to him then,’ said Millie, ‘because they’re few and far between.’
‘Right, I could murder a G&T!’ Penelope bellowed, standing up to survey the bottles of gin, tonics, ice and lemon slices thathad been placed on the side table, along with some bottles of wine. ‘May we help ourselves?’ Without waiting for an answer, she poured a hefty measure into a glass for herself before grabbing a handful of sandwiches.
‘Yes, of course,’ Ally confirmed before adding hopefully, ‘I always think a little G&T goes down well at this time of day!’
‘Agreed!’ said Brigitte, standing up to serve herself.
Morwenna giggled. ‘I don’t normally drink this early in the day,’ she said, ‘but I’ll make an exception! Or perhaps I should have wine?’
That left Millie, who was looking slightly confused. ‘Maybe I’ll just wait for the coffee,’ she said, placing a couple of sandwiches on a plate.
‘Rubbish!’ Penelope insisted, the self-appointed bartender. ‘I’ll just pour you atinyone!’ With that, she poured out what could only, at the very least, be described as a double. She turned to Ally. ‘I’m being very generous with your gin, Ally, but I shall replace this with a spare bottle I have upstairs.’
Four pairs of eyes suddenly swivelled in her direction.
‘I always keep a spare,’ Penelope continued blithely, oblivious of the attention focussed on her, ‘just in case I run out. I always have a couple in the evenings you know.’
Ally resisted the temptation to laugh as Penelope sat down, raised her glass and shouted, ‘Here’s to the final session of the Literary Ladies! Cheers!’ She downed most of her drink in one large gulp.
‘Slàinte mhath!’ Ally echoed, pouring herself a small gin. ‘That’s “cheers” in Gaelic, or “good health” or whatever you want it to be!’
They all raised their glasses. ‘Slan-je-va!’ they all repeated phonetically.
Ally waited until they’d laid down their glasses and Millie had stopped coughing at the ‘small one’ that Penelope had poured her.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘As you know, I used to do research for television, and I thought I’d give you a subject we could all explore together, and perhaps you can use in a story or novel when you get home.’
Everyone nodded.
‘I think it would be best perhaps if we discussed it, so we get everyone’s point of view, because you won’t be able to compare notes easily once you get home.’
More nodding.
‘So, what are we discussing?’ Brigitte asked, her French accent becoming more pronounced after a few sips of gin. She, too, had helped herself to a couple of smoked salmon sandwiches.
Ally took a deep breath. ‘What I thought we might talk about is…’ She hesitated for a moment, then continued, ‘Would you accept the challenge if someone offered you a million pounds to do something?’
‘Like what?’ Brigitte looked puzzled.
‘Oh, I don’t know… perhaps something you’d never contemplate doing in a million years, like jumping from a plane if you’re scared of heights, that sort of thing. How about you write for twenty minutes or so, and then we can talk about what you’ve come up with?’
