Read Online Corpse in Waiting by Margaret Duffy - Free Book Online

interesting?’
    â€˜Not really. We took some samples of earth where the body might have been decapitated. I don’t think she was killed in the house.’
    â€˜Your cat’s whiskers?’
    I nodded. ‘And . . .’
    â€˜And?’ he queried when I paused.
    â€˜I’m going to pull out of the sale.’
    â€˜I can understand that. The place does have an unpleasant history now.’
    â€˜It’s not that. It’s causing . . . difficulties between us. I don’t want that. I’ve behaved badly over it really.’
    Perhaps my unsettled hormones cut in then again or it was the fact that it then came home to me that I still had no writing room, and perhaps never would, and the tears took me completely by surprise. I sobbed into my paper napkin, just managing to get out, ‘When I think about it, I’ve always behaved badly towards you.’
    Patrick replaced the soggy paper relic with his handkerchief and then delved into my bag to answer my mobile, which had just started ringing. Whoever it was rang off as soon as he spoke.
    â€˜Look, we can’t talk about it now,’ he said quietly in my ear. ‘I must collect the records and then tackle doctors’ surgeries and see if I can find out more about this woman.’
    â€˜OK,’ I gulped. ‘Is there anything you’d like me to do?’
    â€˜No, not really.’
    I did not ring the estate agency, there seemed little point. Alexandra’s higher offer would be accepted: it was her house now. Fine, I thought, I have no writing room: I would just have to get on with it in the dining room. Either that or give up writing altogether. Telling myself sternly that most authors would exchange their back teeth for a beautiful old room like this to work in, with the French doors giving a view into Elspeth’s garden – it was her creation and I could never lay claim to it while she lived – I sat behind the antique desk that we had brought from Devon and switched on my computer. Yes, this was the situation I would have to get used to, to expect anything else was shirking my family responsibilities.
    I dealt with a few emails, one from the fiction editor of my publisher asking how the latest novel was progressing. I told her absolutely fine but without going into details. I had a contract for this one and the deadline was the end of September: I had hardly started it. OK, dig it out and remind myself what I had written.
    The doorbell rang and it was a man who had come to repair Elspeth’s brand new cooker.
    â€˜The Reverend and Mrs Gillard live in the annex,’ I told him. ‘That’s what the address says and there’s a notice on the wall outside which clearly indicates you have to go round to the back of the house to reach it.’
    â€˜Can’t I come through this way?’ he enquired, all ready to do just that, huge tool box and all.
    â€˜Sorry, no.’ I shut the door in his face.
    Right, the story so far . . .
    I read it through, made a few small changes, added a little more but still had no real idea how it would progress, or for that matter, end.
    There was a tap at the door and Elspeth opened it sufficiently to put her head round.
    â€˜Elspeth, you don’t have to knock!’ I exclaimed.
    â€˜Yes – or rather no – but I’m sure you’re working. It’s just that I’m making sandwiches for a rather late lunch as the cooker repairman’s only just gone, John’s come in and I wondered if you’d like some.’
    I glanced at the clock: an hour and a half had gone by.
    I ended up by having lunch with them as it had seemed positively churlish to take mine away and eat it on my own. Carrie then found me to say that the school had rung with the news that Katie was not very well and could someone go and fetch her? Vicky would enjoy the ride but would I mind watching over Mark for a while as he had only