Page 34 of Blow Down (The Plumber's Mate)
“Do I smell food? I’m starving,” she greeted me with, padding into the kitchen in stockinged feet. I guessed she’d been wearing heels for the lunchtime meeting.
“Yeah, won’t be long now. You want to put the rice on while you’re here?”
Cherry backpedalled so fast I half expected to see skid marks on the kitchen tiles. “Oh, I don’t want to get in your way. I just came in to give you this.” She plonked a bottle of red on the kitchen counter. “I know we’re having fish, but I thought we could drink it after the meal.”
“Sis, I’m touched you think I give a monkey’s what colour wine I drink with what. But yeah, after the meal is fine. I’ll put it in the fridge, yeah?” I added just to wind her up.
Cherry glared. I grinned and bunged the rice on to cook myself.
The Thai trout went down a treat. Mildly spiced and delicately flavoured, it would, actually, have been a crime to drink red wine with it.
All right, so maybe I did care a little bit.
Cherry scarfed the food down like it was the best meal she’d had all week. I guessed she must have been cooking for herself again.
After we’d eaten, I opened the wine and poured a couple of glasses. Cherry took a long, deep swallow. Looked like she might be settling in for the night, so it was just as well I hadn’t yet got round to filling up the spare room with junk again.
“Right, down to business,” I said, putting my feet up on the coffee table. Cherry’s tsk was so automatic I don’t reckon she even realised she was doing it. “Tell me everything you know about Amelia Fenchurch-Majors. Apart from She’s dead, ’cos I noticed that one already, ta.”
Sis curled her legs up neatly on the sofa. “Where do you want me to start?”
“I dunno . . . Uh, what did she do for a living? Did she work? Or did she live off old Alex?”
“Well, she was one of these women who say they have a business but seem to have an awful lot of free time nevertheless.” Not that Sis was bitter or anything. “She was an events planner, apparently, although if you ask me, she was more interested in interior design. She had plans to completely modernise their place in St. Leonards—had already started, actually. That driveway is all new since she came on the scene.”
“What? No way. That farmhouse of theirs is listed, innit?” I was honestly a bit horrified. No wonder she hadn’t been bothered about stomping all over those old wooden floors in her stilettos—by the sound of it, she’d been planning to rip ’em out anyway. “They’ve got rules and regs about that sort of thing. I had a job once on one of those old almshouses in St. Albans, the ones near St. Peter’s Church, and you wouldn’t believe the hoops they had to jump through just to get an extra loo put in.”
Cherry gave a tight little smile. “Lance plays golf with the head of the planning committee. She’d have had no trouble.”
“Yeah, who is this Lance bloke, anyway?”
“Amelia’s business partner. Apparently.” You could cut the sarcasm with a knife.
“You reckon he was a sleeping partner?”
Sis looked torn, but eventually admitted, “I don’t know she was having an affair with him. And I only met him the once. But I wouldn’t be surprised. Although goodness knows why she’d want to,” she said with a hint of a shudder.
“Bit of a minger, is he?”
“No-o . . . There’s just something about him. You’d have to see him yourself. And I could be wrong,” she added virtuously. “Gregory found him fascinating.”
“Your Greg finds roadkill fascinating. Did he reckon Lance’d look great mounted on the wall next to Mrs. Tiggywinkle?” Mrs. T. was, or rather had been, a hedgehog, personally taxidermied by the scarily reverend Greg.
“Don’t mock. At least Gregory has an artistic hobby. When was the last time you did anything creative?”
I gave her a look. “Not half an hour ago, as it happens, and you practically licked the plate clean. So don’t give me that, or you’ll be cooking your own tea next time.”
Give her her due, Cherry blushed. “Um. Sorry. I forgot. But please don’t make fun of Gregory’s choice of relaxation.”
I frowned. “Why? Someone else been having a dig?”
“Oh . . . It was only Amelia, and only the once that I heard. But she said it to the bishop.” Sis seemed upset, as well she might.
“Yeah, that was a bit out of order. Still, look on the bright side. She won’t be doing that again.”
Cherry snorted. “You’re horrible.” She took another sip of wine and visibly tried to straighten out her face.
“So what else can you tell me about Lance? What’s his surname?” I sniggered as a thought hit. “God, I hope it’s not Boyle.”
