Page 59 of A Very Bookish Murder
‘Why on earth would you do that?’ Penelope asked, stopping in her tracks.
‘I told you why,’ Millie repeated. ‘Out of respect.’
By this time they’d arrived at the hotel and the subject of what to wear was discontinued. As Ally followed them into the restaurant, she wondered if she’d been too generous with the gin earlier and that it hadn’t loosened things uptoomuch…
TWENTY-TWO
The round table beside the window in the Craigmonie dining room was set for six, beautifully laid out with crystal glasses and gleaming silverware. An elaborate arrangement of white roses had been placed in the centre. Ally was pleased to see that the elusive Laura had decided to join them, so perhaps the thought of a final cramped evening in Owen’s camper van had lost its appeal.
The dining room was, at the moment, half full. As they seated themselves around the table, Ally found herself between Penelope and Morwenna.
‘First things first!’ said Penelope. ‘Let’s get some wine ordered!’
There was murmured agreement, and the waiter, Sam – who also happened to be Morag and Murdo’s son-in-law – was duly taking a note of their wine requirements when Callum appeared.
‘Welcome, ladies, and I’m sorry this will be the final evening that we’ll have your company. You’ve been lovely guests throughout this unfortunate time, and I’d like to send out a couple of my finest wines, one red and one white, with my compliments!’ He gave a little bow, grinned at Ally and then disappeared amid a chorus of thank yous.
Laura, sitting opposite Ally, was wearing a pink-and-white striped shirt and looked almost cheerful for once, probably pleased at the prospect of getting away tomorrow.
The cock-a-leekie soup, one of the starter choices, was discussed in detail and chosen by both Penelope and Morwenna, while the others dithered over what to have. They had finally decided by the time Sam returned with the wine, took their orders and moved away.
‘Here’s to Ally, our lovely landlady for the past couple of weeks, with thanks!’ Penelope shouted, and they all lifted their glasses and took large gulps.
‘George and I will be so sad to leave,’ said Brigitte, ‘because it is so beautiful here, but oh, the weather!’ She rolled her eyes and returned to her seafood cocktail.
‘But we had beautiful weather last weekend,’ Morwenna pointed out. ‘Remember the earl’s lovely picnic?’
‘The day Joyce died,’ Laura reminded them.
There was silence for a moment before Penelope raised her glass again. ‘Here’s to Joyce, wherever she is!’
They all drank to Joyce.
Ally, tackling her smoked salmon, noticed the wine was disappearing rather fast and remembered that they’d all imbibed a fair amount on the night of the pasta supper, when they’d first arrived. Joyce had been the only one of them who didn’t drink. She looked round the table, barely able to believe that any one of these women might well have disposed of both Jodi and Joyce.
‘Have you been swimming again, Millie?’ she asked.
Millie nodded. ‘I do like that little loch. I shall miss it.’
‘Isn’t the water very cold?’ Brigitte asked.
‘Yes, but I’m into cold water swimming,’ Millie said. ‘It doesn’t bother me.’
The others gave little shivers and continued with their starters.
‘Here’s to our writing success!’ Millie continued, lifting her glass again. ‘And here’s to poor Jodi!’
There was a mixed reaction to this.
‘The copier of plots,’ said Brigitte, but she drank some wine anyway.
‘Strange woman,’ said Laura.
‘What was so strange about her?’ Millie asked.
Laura looked around the table. ‘My partner, Owen, who’s a mile or so away in his camper van, is still legally her husband.’
There were gasps all round.
