Read Online Murder in Style by Veronica Heley - Free Book Online

real, even though she usually managed to worry through them somehow or other.
    But not this affair. Surely, this one was nothing to do with her. She would ask God to look after the Cordovers, and get back to worrying about her everyday problems.
    She let herself back into her house, called out, ‘I’m back!’ to whoever might be around, and found that her daughter Diana had left her an envelope marked ‘Urgent’ on the hall table.
    Ellie grinned. So she’d missed another meeting with her daughter? Tough! She didn’t bother to open the envelope but went into the kitchen to make herself a cuppa, only to find that Susan, their lodger and part-time housekeeper, was cleaning out the larder.
    Now Susan was not normally a worrier. She’d been wished on Ellie and Thomas by her aunt Lesley who, yes, was the policewoman who had got Ellie involved in the Cordover case. Susan was in her final year as a full-time student of cookery at West London University and needed somewhere to stay in term-time. She was doing well in her course, and would have no trouble getting a job when she finished. She had fitted into the household as if she’d been brought up in it.
    Susan adored having her own space in the flat at the top of Ellie’s big house, even if it didn’t have its own entrance due to some officious person at the Town Hall declaring that Ellie wasn’t allowed to make a separate front door because that might mean someone bringing another car into the road, even though there was plenty of off-road parking.
    Susan had a light hand with pastry and a sunny disposition. She only tackled Ellie’s larder when she was in distress about something, which would be about twice a year. On those occasions she would move the chutneys which she’d made to the shelf which usually held her homemade marmalade and mincemeat, and vice versa. She would bang and sweep and sniff and turn her little radio up high, sending up flags of distress.
    Ellie dithered. She didn’t want to barge in on someone who was having a private scream to themselves which would soon be over. On the other hand, Ellie could make a pretty good guess as to what was causing Susan such distress, and ignoring the matter was not going to make it go away. Susan had been asked to be a bridesmaid at Lesley’s wedding, and was dreading the event. Ellie could understand why.
    So, steeling herself to interfere, Ellie knocked on the door to the larder, which was ajar. ‘Susan, have you time for a cuppa?’
    Ellie could only see Susan’s behind from where she stood, as her head was under the bottom shelf.
    â€˜Go away. I’m all right.’ A muffled voice, full of tears?
    â€˜Oh, Susan.’ Ellie sighed. ‘Come on out. We’ll have a cuppa, and you can tell me all about it.’
    Mumble, mumble. Which, being translated, meant Susan didn’t have anything to tell.
    â€˜Come on,’ said Ellie, surprising herself by being firm with the girl. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ Which she did.
    Susan duly extricated herself from under the shelf, blew her nose, whispered something about being an idiot, and seated herself at the kitchen table in front of the large mug which she preferred to any other. Ellie poured tea, pushed the box of tissues towards Susan and investigated the contents of the biscuit tin.
    The official arrangement was that Ellie cooked for herself and Thomas, and Susan got her own meals in the small kitchen at the top of the house. However, Susan also liked to try out recipes in the big kitchen downstairs where there was more room to work and a bigger oven. Some of the resultant dishes would be popped into the freezer, and some she would leave out for the household to devour for their evening meals.
    Occasionally Susan felt moved to make a batch of gingerbread, shortbread or brownies and this was Hurray Time for the household. (Anything but coconut: Thomas didn’t care for coconut