Murder at the Laurels

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Authors: Lesley Cookman
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths
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village shops when possible, the occasional sortie to the supermarket was inevitable. Putting murder out of her mind, Libby went upstairs to dress.
    Wandering round the aisles an hour later with only a newspaper and a bunch of flowers in her trolley, Libby became aware of the advisability of always putting on make-up no matter how trivial one’s outing.
    â€˜Hello, Lib,’ said Ben.
    He was leaning on the end of a freezer cabinet wearing jeans and a T-shirt, his short grey hair as neat as ever.
    Libby felt dampness break out all along her hairline as her heart rate accelerated. She’d noticed these unfortunate teenagerish manifestations before when suddenly confronted with Ben, and they didn’t get any easier.
    â€˜Hi,’ she said.
    â€˜Haven’t seen you for ages.’ Ben looked at her intently.
    â€˜Well, you moved back to your flat, didn’t you? You haven’t been in the village much.’
    â€˜My mother had her hands full with my sister and dad.’
    â€˜It’s not been easy for any of you,’ said Libby.
    â€˜Or you.’ Ben gave a small forced smile. There was a short silence.
    â€˜I’m sorry –’ They both spoke together, then stopped. Libby laughed.
    â€˜Well, I am sorry,’ she said. ‘Your turn.’
    â€˜I’m sorry, too.’ Ben stood away from the freezer and looked down in to her trolley. ‘I got a bit emotionally unbalanced for a time.’
    â€˜Gee, thanks.’ Libby felt her insides contract with mortification.
    He looked up quickly. ‘No, I didn’t mean that, Lib. Oh, lord, I’m putting my foot in it again. I meant afterwards. The family kept coming first, and it was all so awful …’
    â€˜I know, but I was a bit – well – insensitive about it. I’m the one who put my foot in it.’
    â€˜How about we start again, then? Come to Harry’s tonight with me.’
    Libby’s heart jumped. ‘Oh, Ben, I’d love to, but I can’t. Fran’s coming down.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Ben looked nonplussed. ‘Well, couldn’t she come, too?’
    â€˜She was down the night before last and we went there then.’
    â€˜Ah.’ Ben nodded and looked down into the trolley again. ‘How long’s she staying?’
    â€˜Her aunt’s just died and she’ll stay until the funeral, I think.’
    Ben raised his eyebrows. ‘Did the aunt live near here?’
    â€˜In a home just outside Nethergate. I gather that part of the family came from round here originally.’
    â€˜Coincidence. She never mentioned it before, did she?’
    â€˜I don’t think she knew before. It’s all come as a bit of a shock to her.’
    â€˜Well, how about dinner on Friday, then? That Thai place we went to before? Or we could go to the pub. Their food’s got a lot better, apparently.’
    Libby smiled. ‘OK, thanks. I’d like that. If Fran’s here, I’m sure she won’t mind.’
    â€˜The pub?’
    â€˜Yes, please. I think I’d prefer to be out of Pete and Harry’s sight line, and it means you don’t have to drive all the way out from Canterbury and back again with me. Or I could drive in and meet you, I suppose.’
    â€˜And not have a drink? Heavens above! Wouldn’t think of it.’ He grinned at her, the old teasing Ben once more. ‘And I’ll stay at the Manor for the night so I can drink, too.’
    Libby just stopped herself from saying ‘You can stay with me.’
    â€˜See you about seven thirty on Friday, then?’ He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. ‘And lets hope nothing happens this time.’
    â€˜Like murder, you mean,’ she said, and could have bitten her tongue out.
    He smiled again, a little crookedly. ‘Yes, like murder.’
    Marion Headlam looked surprised as Charles and Fran walked in through the front door of The Laurels.
    â€˜Well, hello

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