sleep, huh?”
I shook my head.
“I’m sorry you guys have had such a tough time,” he told us. “It’s an ugly thing to have got involved in. I bet you can’t wait to get back to England.”
“Oh, it hasn’t been so bad,” said Mum, tossing her hair across her shoulder. “The police have been very kind. And we can’t leave until the murderer’s caught.” She gave a little cough and then said, “I’m so sorry about your mother.”
“Yeah, me too. She was one great lady. I’m going to miss her.” He spoke the words with a quiet dignity, but there was no doubting the depth of his grief, and my heart pounded in sympathy. He was the first person to be genuinely upset by Baby Sugarcandy’s death. I felt tears pricking my eyes and Graham looked choked too.
“I feel so bad,” he murmured. “I knew she was scared. She told me on the phone that an old flame was bothering her – sending her letters, calling her at night. I thought he was just some harmless guy, you know? If I’d taken it more seriously she and Judy would still be alive.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” said Mum. “The man’s mad. No one could have predicted what he’d do. Or what he might do next,” she added fearfully.
“I guess not,” Toby conceded. “But I feel guilty as hell. If I’d been here, I could have protected her, protected them both. And now Sylvia – some woman I never even met – killed just for working here! It’s terrible.” He rubbed his forehead as if he was developing a headache and there was silence while me, Mum and Graham all looked at each other wondering what to say. In the end it was Toby who spoke first. “Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to dump that on you. Let’s talk about something else! Lili, you came here to look at the grounds, didn’t you?”
“Yes, your mother wanted an English country garden. I’d started working on some designs. But I suppose you won’t be needing them now…”
“Mind if I see them?”
“Of course not!” Talking about gardens was Mum’s favourite occupation. She fetched her sketchbook and opened it on the table.
Toby began leafing through her drawings and plans.
“I thought the copse at the top could be turned into a bluebell wood,” said Mum. “It would be beautiful in spring. Then maybe a wildflower meadow below it, and something more formal around the house – a pattern of box hedges immediately in front and then a long herbaceous border backed by yew hedging, and perhaps some old-fashioned roses? Climbers would be lovely up against the walls with some honeysuckle too. The smell would be heavenly in the summer.”
“Sounds great!” Toby nodded and looked at her thoughtfully. “You’re one talented lady,” he added. “You know, an English country garden would be a fitting memorial to my mother – a kind of tribute to her. Sentimental of me, I guess, but I’d like her to have what she wanted. Heck, it’s all I can do for her now. Will you carry on and finish the designs for her? For me?”
Mum was utterly thrilled. She flashed him a smile so warm it could have melted the ice caps. “Of course I will. It will be a pleasure,” she said eagerly. Then she frowned. “There’s only one problem.”
“What is it?”
“Well, the climate here’s so hot and dry. We’d need to put in some kind of irrigation system. It would be terribly expensive.”
“Money’s no problem!” Toby replied firmly. His hands closed over Mum’s. “Let’s have a coffee. Then you can show me around the grounds. I’d love to see exactly what you’ve got in mind.”
“I think I’ll go for a swim now,” I said loudly. “Are you coming, Graham?”
Graham hesitated, but I gave him such an intense glare that he took the hint and scurried away to collect his trunks. I was feeling suddenly uncomfortable, and wasn’t entirely sure why. The sight of grown-ups ogling each other was always stomach churning but there was more to it than that. Leaving Mum to talk
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