Page 58 of A Very Bookish Murder
‘Thisisa special occasion,’ Millie said, ‘because this time tomorrow we’ll all have packed up and be ready to leave.’
‘After we’ve been to that damned funeral,’ said Penelope.
Ally decided she should enlighten them about Rigby. ‘We all need to act with decorum tomorrow,’ she said, looking around, ‘because Jodi Jones turned out to be the long-lost sister of Detective Inspector Rigby, the gentleman who had the cardiac arrest at the hotel after Jodi was discovered. Which was probably due to finding out that shewashis sister.’
There were exclamations of horror all around.
‘That poor man!’ Penelope said. ‘How awful! I think I’m going to need another G&T.’ She looked around. ‘Anyone else?’
‘Just a wee one then,’ agreed Millie, following her to the table and looking more animated than Ally had ever seen her before.
‘Oh my goodness,’ said Morwenna, ‘so maybe I’ll keep you company then, but only for a few minutes!’
‘Moi aussi!’ said Brigitte, plainly unaware that she’d lapsed into her native tongue.
‘I should make sure you all have a couple of hours’ sleep this afternoon,’ Ally said, looking around and belatedly wondering about having supplied so much gin. ‘What time do we leave here for dinner?’
‘Seven o’clock!’ said Penelope firmly, draining her glass.
Ally picked up the now empty sandwich tray and left them all to it. If their tongues were loosened a little with the gin and perhaps some wine later, the conversation could be extremely relaxed and might well provide a valuable clue.
‘You’re sure it was a good idea to let them loose on the gin at lunchtime?’ Ross asked a little later, looking a little perplexed as he and Ebony prepared to leave at half past five.
‘Oh, they’ll have slept that off by now,’ Ally said dismissively.
‘No harm in hoping,’ Ross said as he held her in his arms. ‘Just behave yourselves! I’ll be back first thing in the morning with a sombre suit and a black tie, and we’ll set off for this muddy field at about quarter past ten.’
After he’d gone, Ally let Flora out into the garden, while she went up to her bedroom and decided what she was going to wear, finally opting for her cream silk blouse and black, tailored trousers. It wasn’t cold, but it was damp, so she decided to wear her trench coat on top. She’d learned years ago, from her daughter-in-law, Liz, that she should invest in some decent pieces of clothing at her age and buy a lot less. Liz ran an expensive boutique in Edinburgh city centre, and so considered herself to be an expert on such matters, although Ally had to admit she was usually right.
Ally surveyed herself in the full-length mirror, pulling in her tummy muscles as she did so. She could certainly do with losing a pound or two, but tonight was definitely not the best time to begin.
They all planned to walk down to the Craigmonie, rain or not, to allow for the consumption of alcohol, just in case they hadn’t had enough already. Except Ally, of course, who had only had one small gin and was now looking forward to her first sip of wine.
She shut Flora in the kitchen, knowing she’d be fine for a few hours, before she went out into the hallway. Her guests arrived one by one, and so Ally had time to survey their outfits.
Penelope, not one for following fashion, was in a green roll-neck cable-knit sweater and baggy grey trousers; Brigitte sported an off-the-shoulder red sweater and black leggings; Morwenna was actually wearing a dress, a blue woollen one, and Millie arrived wearing a white jumper and a vividly patterned floral skirt. George appeared briefly, gave Brigitte a quick peck on the cheek and announced to all and sundry, ‘I’m off for some Italian nosh and a few beers. I might even join you for coffee later!’
‘Off we go then!’ bawled Penelope in her usual bossy manner, leading the way.
Despite being damp, it wasn’t actually raining, so plastic macs were hastily folded up and squeezed into their bags, ‘Just in case the heavens open up later,’ Millie said.
On the walk down to the Craigmonie, Millie asked, ‘Doesanyoneknow what happens at humanist funerals?’
‘I haven’t a clue,’ Penelope admitted, ‘but it probably involves dancing or chanting or something.’
‘Oh, surely not,’ said Morwenna. ‘Anyway, I haven’t brought any funereal clothes with me, so I’ll just have to wear my beige mac.’
‘I shall wear this dark-blue coat,’ said Brigitte, ‘because I’m mainly concerned with keeping warm.’
‘I shall wear a hat,’ Millie announced.
‘Ahat!’ the others exclaimed.
‘I always wear a hat to a funeral,’ Millie said, ‘out of respect. It’s what I was brought up to do.’
‘You brought ahatwith you?’ Morwenna asked.
‘No,’ said Millie. ‘I went to Inverness and bought one.’
