Read Online 7 A Tasteful Crime by Cecilia Peartree - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cecilia Peartree
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think of anything to say. It had never been worthwhile arguing with Deirdre, and now that seemed to be the case in spades. Eric was welcome to her.
Although Christopher knew he wasn't as old as the other man, he suddenly felt as if he were at least a hundred. He was tempted to go down to the Queen of Scots and spend the entire day drinking, but at the same time he knew with a deep certainty that what he was going to do next was to make his way to the Cultural Centre, though not so fast that it looked as if he was following Deirdre, and supervise things so that no permanent damage would be done to the place.
It was difficult being grown-up sometimes.
C hapter 9 Amaryllis's Post-Apple Activities
Amaryllis parked the apple neatly outside the supermarket and set off from there on foot. Someone else could drive the thing during the real procession. She had had enough of it.
Deirdre was probably in the Cultural Centre, so there was no point in going there. Amaryllis wasn’t cowardly by any stretch of the imagination, but like a cat she preferred to avoid trouble if at all possible, and certainly not to invite it in for a cup of tea and a custard cream biscuit. Apart from anything else, she had never knowingly purchased custard cream biscuits, preferring to leave that to others.
She did what all her friends did when they didn’t know what to do. She went round to the Queen of Scots.
Charlie Smith was just opening up as she arrived. ‘You’re very prompt today,’ he remarked, jingling his keys. ‘Coffee? Or something stronger?’
‘I’ve been driving the apple,’ she said. ‘I need strong coffee and lots of it.’
‘Well, that’s a coincidence,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ve just this minute put the kettle on.’
‘How’s your car?’ she asked, leaning on the bar while he got out two mugs. ‘I hear it was the victim of a Dave attack. Funny, he usually only picks on Pandas.’
‘Hmph,’ muttered Charlie. ‘If that man doesn’t get banned from driving before Christmas, I don’t know what the law in this town is coming to. You’d think he had the chief constable in his pocket.’
‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘Isn’t that contempt of court or something?’
‘Slander,’ he replied. ‘But I know it won’t go any further than you, me and the dog.’
‘The dog?’
There was a muted bark from behind the bar. Amaryllis leaned over and peered downwards. There was a fleecy dog-bed near the fridge, and the dog was curled up in it. He looked up at her apologetically.
‘Is he supposed to be in there?’
‘I won’t report him if you don’t,’ said Charlie.
She pondered for a while on how much more relaxed Charlie was since he had given up on the police force. He had probably increased his life expectancy by several years already. It was odd, because she had thought being a pub landlord would be even more stressful. She imagined she would find it more difficult than being a spy, although perhaps some of the same skills were required for both.
‘Do you know how this thing’s going?’ he asked , pouring out the coffee.
‘There’s been a rehearsal for the procession,’ she said. ‘That’s why I was driving the apple. I assume the rest’s going ahead as planned. Insofar as there was a plan, that is.’
‘I could put the television on if you like,’ said Charlie. ‘The whole thing’s meant to be going out live on the local Fife channel, if you know how to find it.’ He pushed one mug across the bar to her.
Amaryllis laughed scornfully. ‘Th e Fife channel won’t last long if they show this kind of stuff on it.’
‘They’re really meant to just cover local events,’ said Charlie, fiddling with the remote control. ‘The Open Kitchen thing is over-stepping the boundaries a bit, but I suppose they can call it news if they want, even if they’ve manufactured it themselves.’
‘It’s as much news as some of the rest,’ she said.
A picture appeared and, a bit later, some
Although Christopher knew he wasn't as old as the other man, he suddenly felt as if he were at least a hundred. He was tempted to go down to the Queen of Scots and spend the entire day drinking, but at the same time he knew with a deep certainty that what he was going to do next was to make his way to the Cultural Centre, though not so fast that it looked as if he was following Deirdre, and supervise things so that no permanent damage would be done to the place.
It was difficult being grown-up sometimes.
C hapter 9 Amaryllis's Post-Apple Activities
Amaryllis parked the apple neatly outside the supermarket and set off from there on foot. Someone else could drive the thing during the real procession. She had had enough of it.
Deirdre was probably in the Cultural Centre, so there was no point in going there. Amaryllis wasn’t cowardly by any stretch of the imagination, but like a cat she preferred to avoid trouble if at all possible, and certainly not to invite it in for a cup of tea and a custard cream biscuit. Apart from anything else, she had never knowingly purchased custard cream biscuits, preferring to leave that to others.
She did what all her friends did when they didn’t know what to do. She went round to the Queen of Scots.
Charlie Smith was just opening up as she arrived. ‘You’re very prompt today,’ he remarked, jingling his keys. ‘Coffee? Or something stronger?’
‘I’ve been driving the apple,’ she said. ‘I need strong coffee and lots of it.’
‘Well, that’s a coincidence,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ve just this minute put the kettle on.’
‘How’s your car?’ she asked, leaning on the bar while he got out two mugs. ‘I hear it was the victim of a Dave attack. Funny, he usually only picks on Pandas.’
‘Hmph,’ muttered Charlie. ‘If that man doesn’t get banned from driving before Christmas, I don’t know what the law in this town is coming to. You’d think he had the chief constable in his pocket.’
‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘Isn’t that contempt of court or something?’
‘Slander,’ he replied. ‘But I know it won’t go any further than you, me and the dog.’
‘The dog?’
There was a muted bark from behind the bar. Amaryllis leaned over and peered downwards. There was a fleecy dog-bed near the fridge, and the dog was curled up in it. He looked up at her apologetically.
‘Is he supposed to be in there?’
‘I won’t report him if you don’t,’ said Charlie.
She pondered for a while on how much more relaxed Charlie was since he had given up on the police force. He had probably increased his life expectancy by several years already. It was odd, because she had thought being a pub landlord would be even more stressful. She imagined she would find it more difficult than being a spy, although perhaps some of the same skills were required for both.
‘Do you know how this thing’s going?’ he asked , pouring out the coffee.
‘There’s been a rehearsal for the procession,’ she said. ‘That’s why I was driving the apple. I assume the rest’s going ahead as planned. Insofar as there was a plan, that is.’
‘I could put the television on if you like,’ said Charlie. ‘The whole thing’s meant to be going out live on the local Fife channel, if you know how to find it.’ He pushed one mug across the bar to her.
Amaryllis laughed scornfully. ‘Th e Fife channel won’t last long if they show this kind of stuff on it.’
‘They’re really meant to just cover local events,’ said Charlie, fiddling with the remote control. ‘The Open Kitchen thing is over-stepping the boundaries a bit, but I suppose they can call it news if they want, even if they’ve manufactured it themselves.’
‘It’s as much news as some of the rest,’ she said.
A picture appeared and, a bit later, some
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