Read Online Constable Evans 02: Evan Help Us by Rhys Bowen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rhys Bowen
Ads: Link
didn’t appear that these were being offered.
Mrs. Williams nodded as if toast was a fitting meal for those in grief. “I’ll make you some toast, then I must be away off to chapel,” she said, cutting off two large slices of bread. “You’re not coming to chapel then?”
“Not this morning,” Evan said. “I’ll probably go tonight.”
“I hope you men will have the decency not to go sneaking round to the pub after chapel,” Mrs. Williams said.
“Us? Sneak to the pub? Whatever gave you that idea?” Evan asked innocently.
Mrs. Williams sniffed. “You think we don’t see you? There’s not much goes on in this village that isn’t common knowledge, Mr. Evans. And I think you should respect the colonel’s memory for once and not go drinking on the Sabbath.”
Evan thought of saying that he thought it was likely the colonel would have approved of everyone having a drink in his memory, but he swallowed back the words at the last minute. They took death very seriously in Llanfair.
“So do you think they’ll postpone the village meeting tomorrow night?” he asked.
Mrs. Williams shook her head. “Not from what Reverend Parry Davies was saying. He said he thought we should forge ahead as the colonel would have wished—although I don’t exactly see what we need a meeting about. I mean, either the ruin turns out to be the saint’s grave or not.”
“There’s more to it than that, Mrs. Williams,” Evan said. “There are all sorts of crazy ideas floating around about changing Llanfair’s name.”
“Changing our name? What on earth to?”
Evan grinned. “Who knows? They started by suggesting that we now call ourselves Llanfair BG, short for Llanfair Bedd Gelert.”
“Like they do with Llanfair PG, instead of having to say the whole long mouthful?”
“Exactly. And then someone wanted to make it longer than that other Llanfair, so that we can get into the Guinness book of records.”
“I’ve heard some daft things in my time, but that takes the cake.” Mrs. Williams sniffed. “Getting too big for their boots, that’s what they are, and no good ever comes of that. I think I’ll go to that meeting and tell them so.”
“You do that, Mrs. Williams,” Evan encouraged, smiling.
Mrs. Williams didn’t smile. “Sometimes it needs a woman to make men see sense,” she said. “You wait till you’re married, young man. Then you’ll find out—which reminds me. Now what does it remind me of?”
Evan could guess what was coming next. If he wasn’t careful he was going to be set up for another encounter with Sharon.
“My toast isn’t about to burn, is it?” he asked quickly. “Don’t worry. I can get it. You best hurry to chapel or you’ll be late.”
“Well, if you’re sure you’ll be alright,” Mrs. Williams said hesitantly. “I don’t like leaving you to fend for yourself.”
“I’ll be fine. Off you go,” Evan encouraged.
He sighed with relief as the front door closed and settled down to toast and Mrs. Williams’ homemade marmalade.
He found he didn’t have much of an appetite after all, so he cleaned up the breakfast table and was well away from the house before Mrs. Williams returned from chapel. Not that she’d be back in a hurry today, he decided. With the tragedy to the colonel and the upcoming village meeting, there would be more to gossip about than usual this morning.
* * *
Evan paused as he crossed the bridge. The water splashed and sparkled among the rocks as if there had never been a tragedy further upstream. He gazed at the police tape still sealing off the bank where the colonel’s body had lain. He was tempted to examine the area for blood spots or signs of a heavy body being dragged, just in case the rain came in before the lab boys got there. One good Welsh rain would wash any evidence away. But then he reminded himself that D.I. Hughes had a very short temper and had told Evans once before that he’d be in serious trouble if he
Mrs. Williams nodded as if toast was a fitting meal for those in grief. “I’ll make you some toast, then I must be away off to chapel,” she said, cutting off two large slices of bread. “You’re not coming to chapel then?”
“Not this morning,” Evan said. “I’ll probably go tonight.”
“I hope you men will have the decency not to go sneaking round to the pub after chapel,” Mrs. Williams said.
“Us? Sneak to the pub? Whatever gave you that idea?” Evan asked innocently.
Mrs. Williams sniffed. “You think we don’t see you? There’s not much goes on in this village that isn’t common knowledge, Mr. Evans. And I think you should respect the colonel’s memory for once and not go drinking on the Sabbath.”
Evan thought of saying that he thought it was likely the colonel would have approved of everyone having a drink in his memory, but he swallowed back the words at the last minute. They took death very seriously in Llanfair.
“So do you think they’ll postpone the village meeting tomorrow night?” he asked.
Mrs. Williams shook her head. “Not from what Reverend Parry Davies was saying. He said he thought we should forge ahead as the colonel would have wished—although I don’t exactly see what we need a meeting about. I mean, either the ruin turns out to be the saint’s grave or not.”
“There’s more to it than that, Mrs. Williams,” Evan said. “There are all sorts of crazy ideas floating around about changing Llanfair’s name.”
“Changing our name? What on earth to?”
Evan grinned. “Who knows? They started by suggesting that we now call ourselves Llanfair BG, short for Llanfair Bedd Gelert.”
“Like they do with Llanfair PG, instead of having to say the whole long mouthful?”
“Exactly. And then someone wanted to make it longer than that other Llanfair, so that we can get into the Guinness book of records.”
“I’ve heard some daft things in my time, but that takes the cake.” Mrs. Williams sniffed. “Getting too big for their boots, that’s what they are, and no good ever comes of that. I think I’ll go to that meeting and tell them so.”
“You do that, Mrs. Williams,” Evan encouraged, smiling.
Mrs. Williams didn’t smile. “Sometimes it needs a woman to make men see sense,” she said. “You wait till you’re married, young man. Then you’ll find out—which reminds me. Now what does it remind me of?”
Evan could guess what was coming next. If he wasn’t careful he was going to be set up for another encounter with Sharon.
“My toast isn’t about to burn, is it?” he asked quickly. “Don’t worry. I can get it. You best hurry to chapel or you’ll be late.”
“Well, if you’re sure you’ll be alright,” Mrs. Williams said hesitantly. “I don’t like leaving you to fend for yourself.”
“I’ll be fine. Off you go,” Evan encouraged.
He sighed with relief as the front door closed and settled down to toast and Mrs. Williams’ homemade marmalade.
He found he didn’t have much of an appetite after all, so he cleaned up the breakfast table and was well away from the house before Mrs. Williams returned from chapel. Not that she’d be back in a hurry today, he decided. With the tragedy to the colonel and the upcoming village meeting, there would be more to gossip about than usual this morning.
* * *
Evan paused as he crossed the bridge. The water splashed and sparkled among the rocks as if there had never been a tragedy further upstream. He gazed at the police tape still sealing off the bank where the colonel’s body had lain. He was tempted to examine the area for blood spots or signs of a heavy body being dragged, just in case the rain came in before the lab boys got there. One good Welsh rain would wash any evidence away. But then he reminded himself that D.I. Hughes had a very short temper and had told Evans once before that he’d be in serious trouble if he
Similar Books
