Read Online The Measby Murder Enquiry by Ann Purser - Free Book Online

she had seen one or both somewhere before. Why were they enquiring about her father? She could tell them all they needed to know, but she certainly did not intend to. Maybe the new brewery owners had commissioned a history of the brewery? She could help with that, but saw no reason why she should assist in glorifying a company that had just sacked her! The history idea had occurred to her once or twice. Good public relations, she had said to Uncle George, but he had scoffed at the idea. Everybody knows the story of Jones Brothers Best, he had insisted, and turned down her suggestion.
    “Good morning, Mrs. Evans,” the receptionist said. “Can I help you?”
    “I doubt it,” Bronwen said, “unless you can tell me who is enquiring about my father?”
    The receptionist offered to recall Gus and Deirdre, but Bronwen said very firmly that it would not be necessary. Then she said that after all she would not take up the receptionist’s time and walked off. As she left the building, she glanced back, but could see nothing now but a group of people standing in reception. Never mind, she said to herself, I can ask mother. She would want to know, anyway.
    Unaware that their conversation had been overheard, Gus and Deirdre settled down with their coffee. “How’s the romance going?” he said, making it sound like a joke, though he was quite serious.
    “You mean Theo? Oh, he’s fine, thanks. Great fun to be with. Still a roving bachelor at heart.”
    “Not intending to settle down, then?”
    “Who knows?” Deirdre shrugged. She hadn’t thought that far, and certainly had not imagined herself as mistress of Barrington Hall. She was much too comfortable in Tawny Wings to consider life in a draughty old mansion with few mod cons and a five-mile trek from the kitchen to the dining room.
    “I hear he’s approached little Katya to take on the housekeeper job,” Gus said casually.
    “What? Ridiculous idea. The girl would have no idea how to run an English stately home!” Deirdre’s voice grew louder as she considered the news.
    “Hardly stately,” said Gus quietly. “Not compared with some. Anyway, I think Katya is a very intelligent little thing. And her English has improved no end. She’d probably be a great asset to the Hon. Theo with his posh friends.”
    “Huh!” said Deirdre, and relapsed into a sulky silence.
    Neither said anything more until the receptionist called them back. “Miss Upson will be down shortly,” she said. “I think she’s found something for you.”
     
     
    ALWEN WILSON JONES had elected to stay in bed. “I’m sure I have a cold coming,” she said. “It may even be flu. I was shivering all night,” she complained to Katya.
    “Oh, you poor thing! I will find a nice soft blanket to put over your bed.”
    “You are so kind. Do you like working here? Why don’t you sit and talk to me for a while? I am still feeling a little lonely after leaving my own home and neighbours, and the grandchildren popping in . . .”
    Katya was used to seeing old people in tears. This place must seem like their last stop before the grave, she thought. No wonder the poor old thing is sad. “Is your daughter coming in to see you this week?” she said, hoping to cheer her up.
    “Bethan phoned yesterday,” Alwen said. “She’s got to see to all the beginning of term things this week. But she promised to come in next week, and bring the children after school.”
    “Oh good! That’s something to look forward to, then,” Katya said soothingly. She perched on the edge of a chair. “Mrs. Spurling doesn’t like us to waste time gossiping,” she said, “but she’s gone to the wholesale food place, so I can stay for a chat. Why don’t you tell me about your early days. You were a teacher, I believe?”
    Alwen nodded, and dabbed at her face with a tissue. “Yes, for many years,” she said.
    “And your husband, too?”
    “No, he was an accountant. Tell me about your family in Poland,” she added,