Read Online English Tea Murder by Leslie Meier - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Leslie Meier
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If she was wearing makeup, it was so expertly applied that you couldn’t tell, apart from a dab of lip gloss and a swipe of mascara on her wide-set brown eyes. Remembering how tired she’d felt when she finally arrived at the hotel, Lucy wondered how this woman could look so remarkably fresh after spending the night on the red-eye from Boston.
Turning her attention to the professor, Lucy decided he hadn’t aged well. He’d put on some weight in the years since she’d taken that course in Victorian literature, and his rumpled khaki pants and Harris Tweed jacket couldn’t stretch to cover the round belly that stuck out like a baby bump. The longish, streaked hair that Lucy had found so attractive all those years ago had darkened into a slatey gray and had thinned as well, leaving a circular, pink bald patch at his crown. Of course, everybody got older, everyone aged, thought Lucy. The unfortunate thing in Quentin’s case was that he hadn’t accepted the fact and was still sporting the same look he’d adopted straight out of grad school as a young assistant professor. It had been devastatingly effective back then, but it didn’t work now. He needed to buy pants with a larger waist; he needed a good haircut and a new pair of shoes. Long, bushy sideburns and loafers held together with duct tape looked ridiculous on a man approaching his fifties.
“There’s nothing worse than preppy gone to seed,” said Sue, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
Lucy laughed, closing out her e-mail account and pushing back her chair. Standing up, she caught Quentin’s eye.
“Lucy Stone!”
Lucy was chagrined to feel her cheeks warming. All that had been long ago and had mostly been in her imagination. “Meet my friends,” she said, quickly introducing Pam, Rachel, and Sue.
“Terrific, terrific,” he murmured, glancing around the crowded lounge. “Is everyone here?”
Lucy did a quick head count. The Smith family were seated together on a big sofa; Caroline, ever the well-behaved daughter, was in the middle between her watchful parents. Dr. Cope and Laura Barfield were standing by the window, and Laura’s son Will had taken Lucy’s seat at the computer. Autumn and Jennifer had squeezed together into an armchair where they were giggling and looking through some of the tourist brochures provided by the hotel.
“We’re all here,” said Pam. “And we’re very glad you could come and take over for George.”
“Not at all,” said Quentin. “I’m very happy to be here with you all, though of course I regret the circumstances that brought me here. This is Emma Temple,” he said, indicating his companion. “She has come to make arrangements to return her father’s body to the States.”
If he’d announced he’d brought along an auditor from the Internal Revenue Service to inquire into their tax returns, he couldn’t have gotten a more awkward reaction. The room fell silent and eyes were averted until Pam stepped forward and grabbed Emma’s hand. “I think I speak for everyone when I say how very sorry we all are for your loss. If there’s anything we can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“You’re very kind,” said Emma, her glance passing to each of them, as a lawyer might assess a jury. “I don’t anticipate any problems. I’m an attorney, so I’m familiar with situations like this. I expect to wrap things up fairly quickly.”
“Dealing with the death of a parent is always difficult . . .” began Rachel.
Emma cleared her throat, eager to set the record straight. “My parents were divorced and I hadn’t seen my father for many years. I can’t pretend to be grief-stricken, but I do appreciate your concern.” She turned to Quentin. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get settled in my room and leave you all to your tour. I have some phone calls to make.”
As Emma left the room, there seemed to be a general relaxation of tension. People were uncomfortable with death, Lucy
Turning her attention to the professor, Lucy decided he hadn’t aged well. He’d put on some weight in the years since she’d taken that course in Victorian literature, and his rumpled khaki pants and Harris Tweed jacket couldn’t stretch to cover the round belly that stuck out like a baby bump. The longish, streaked hair that Lucy had found so attractive all those years ago had darkened into a slatey gray and had thinned as well, leaving a circular, pink bald patch at his crown. Of course, everybody got older, everyone aged, thought Lucy. The unfortunate thing in Quentin’s case was that he hadn’t accepted the fact and was still sporting the same look he’d adopted straight out of grad school as a young assistant professor. It had been devastatingly effective back then, but it didn’t work now. He needed to buy pants with a larger waist; he needed a good haircut and a new pair of shoes. Long, bushy sideburns and loafers held together with duct tape looked ridiculous on a man approaching his fifties.
“There’s nothing worse than preppy gone to seed,” said Sue, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
Lucy laughed, closing out her e-mail account and pushing back her chair. Standing up, she caught Quentin’s eye.
“Lucy Stone!”
Lucy was chagrined to feel her cheeks warming. All that had been long ago and had mostly been in her imagination. “Meet my friends,” she said, quickly introducing Pam, Rachel, and Sue.
“Terrific, terrific,” he murmured, glancing around the crowded lounge. “Is everyone here?”
Lucy did a quick head count. The Smith family were seated together on a big sofa; Caroline, ever the well-behaved daughter, was in the middle between her watchful parents. Dr. Cope and Laura Barfield were standing by the window, and Laura’s son Will had taken Lucy’s seat at the computer. Autumn and Jennifer had squeezed together into an armchair where they were giggling and looking through some of the tourist brochures provided by the hotel.
“We’re all here,” said Pam. “And we’re very glad you could come and take over for George.”
“Not at all,” said Quentin. “I’m very happy to be here with you all, though of course I regret the circumstances that brought me here. This is Emma Temple,” he said, indicating his companion. “She has come to make arrangements to return her father’s body to the States.”
If he’d announced he’d brought along an auditor from the Internal Revenue Service to inquire into their tax returns, he couldn’t have gotten a more awkward reaction. The room fell silent and eyes were averted until Pam stepped forward and grabbed Emma’s hand. “I think I speak for everyone when I say how very sorry we all are for your loss. If there’s anything we can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“You’re very kind,” said Emma, her glance passing to each of them, as a lawyer might assess a jury. “I don’t anticipate any problems. I’m an attorney, so I’m familiar with situations like this. I expect to wrap things up fairly quickly.”
“Dealing with the death of a parent is always difficult . . .” began Rachel.
Emma cleared her throat, eager to set the record straight. “My parents were divorced and I hadn’t seen my father for many years. I can’t pretend to be grief-stricken, but I do appreciate your concern.” She turned to Quentin. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get settled in my room and leave you all to your tour. I have some phone calls to make.”
As Emma left the room, there seemed to be a general relaxation of tension. People were uncomfortable with death, Lucy
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