Read Online The Sleeping Salesman Enquiry by Ann Purser - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ann Purser
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ordered from Amazon, and which she intended to keep from Steve’s prying eyes. She settled down in front of the electric fire in the sitting room and opened the package. “
Murder, She Said
,” Wendy read aloud. She chuckled and turned to the first page.
• • •
STEVEN’S SO-CALLED BORING old uncle, Roy Goodman, was in fine fettle this morning. He had woken to see snow clouds passing overhead, but up to now it had been fine in Barrington. A good day to plan the next move for Enquire Within, he decided. He picked up the room phone and dialled Ivy’s number. “Good morning, light of my life!” he said.
Ivy was scarcely awake, and muttered that as far as she could see her room was in complete darkness, and could she ring him back.
“It’s Roy, sleepyhead,” he said. “Just wanted to wish you a nice day, as the Americans say. I have some ideas we might talk about. But first wash an’ brush up and breakfast. It is quite late, actually. I do hope Katya will have kept something hot for us.”
“Do you always wake up so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Roy, my dear?” said Ivy.
“Always,” he replied. “I do hope that is not going to put you off marrying me? I am afraid it comes from a lifetime of getting up early to do the milking.”
“
Nothing
is going to put me off, Roy. I wouldn’t have you spending all that money on a ring only to duck out on you. By the way, one of the things I shall be enquiring about this morning is what that jeweller meant by ‘plenty of candidates’ to be a farmer’s wife, and the purchase of an engagement ring? You being the farmer in question?”
“Ah, thereby hangs a tale. All shall be revealed to you over the eggs and bacon. See you in a few minutes, my lovely.”
Ivy put down the phone and smiled. She had had so many doubts about the wisdom of getting married at her age, but now she was sure. Roy was like a rock, always so calm and sensible, and she knew she could trust him absolutely. And whatever he had got up to in his youth was nothing to do with her. He was a good-looking old dear now, and must have been wickedly handsome in his youth. Bound to have had romances galore. Well, she had netted him now, and meant to keep him.
• • •
GUS HAD NOT seen Miriam for the whole of yesterday, and now he wondered whether lately he had put her off too sternly when she offered lunch, tea, or supper. She was a good soul, if pushy, and he thought perhaps he would take her an olive branch in the form of a box of chocolates. It was a little elderly, but never mind. He could always scribble over the sell-by date. They were expensive Belgian ones given to him by his ex-wife on her last visit sometime ago. He looked at his watch. Just time for a quick walk with Whippy and then, with luck, a decent lunch.
Miriam was arranging a bunch of chrysanthemums she had brought home from the village shop, when she saw Gus pass by her window, and she opened the back door.
“Peace offering,” he said, thrusting the chocolates towards her.
“Sell-by date?” she said. “They look suspiciously like that box sitting on your kitchen window in the sun for months, if not years.”
His face fell, and he walked over to her wheelie bin and threw them in with exaggerated force. By this time she had come out into the yard and took him by the arm. “Nice try, Gus,” she said. “But you were horrid to me yesterday. Still, forgive and forget. I’m cooking fish cakes for lunch. Enough for two?”
Gus accepted at once. He had had an idea that since Miriam had lived in the village all her life, she might well know something interesting about Alf Lowe and his family. And anyway, her fish cakes were always light and tasty, with plenty of delicious salmon in them. His mouth watered at the thought.
He returned to his cottage and Whippy stood shivering at the door. A virtual balloon hung above her head saying “walkies!” and he laughed. “All right, we’ll go. Perhaps we’ll follow on Ivy’s
Murder, She Said
,” Wendy read aloud. She chuckled and turned to the first page.
• • •
STEVEN’S SO-CALLED BORING old uncle, Roy Goodman, was in fine fettle this morning. He had woken to see snow clouds passing overhead, but up to now it had been fine in Barrington. A good day to plan the next move for Enquire Within, he decided. He picked up the room phone and dialled Ivy’s number. “Good morning, light of my life!” he said.
Ivy was scarcely awake, and muttered that as far as she could see her room was in complete darkness, and could she ring him back.
“It’s Roy, sleepyhead,” he said. “Just wanted to wish you a nice day, as the Americans say. I have some ideas we might talk about. But first wash an’ brush up and breakfast. It is quite late, actually. I do hope Katya will have kept something hot for us.”
“Do you always wake up so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Roy, my dear?” said Ivy.
“Always,” he replied. “I do hope that is not going to put you off marrying me? I am afraid it comes from a lifetime of getting up early to do the milking.”
“
Nothing
is going to put me off, Roy. I wouldn’t have you spending all that money on a ring only to duck out on you. By the way, one of the things I shall be enquiring about this morning is what that jeweller meant by ‘plenty of candidates’ to be a farmer’s wife, and the purchase of an engagement ring? You being the farmer in question?”
“Ah, thereby hangs a tale. All shall be revealed to you over the eggs and bacon. See you in a few minutes, my lovely.”
Ivy put down the phone and smiled. She had had so many doubts about the wisdom of getting married at her age, but now she was sure. Roy was like a rock, always so calm and sensible, and she knew she could trust him absolutely. And whatever he had got up to in his youth was nothing to do with her. He was a good-looking old dear now, and must have been wickedly handsome in his youth. Bound to have had romances galore. Well, she had netted him now, and meant to keep him.
• • •
GUS HAD NOT seen Miriam for the whole of yesterday, and now he wondered whether lately he had put her off too sternly when she offered lunch, tea, or supper. She was a good soul, if pushy, and he thought perhaps he would take her an olive branch in the form of a box of chocolates. It was a little elderly, but never mind. He could always scribble over the sell-by date. They were expensive Belgian ones given to him by his ex-wife on her last visit sometime ago. He looked at his watch. Just time for a quick walk with Whippy and then, with luck, a decent lunch.
Miriam was arranging a bunch of chrysanthemums she had brought home from the village shop, when she saw Gus pass by her window, and she opened the back door.
“Peace offering,” he said, thrusting the chocolates towards her.
“Sell-by date?” she said. “They look suspiciously like that box sitting on your kitchen window in the sun for months, if not years.”
His face fell, and he walked over to her wheelie bin and threw them in with exaggerated force. By this time she had come out into the yard and took him by the arm. “Nice try, Gus,” she said. “But you were horrid to me yesterday. Still, forgive and forget. I’m cooking fish cakes for lunch. Enough for two?”
Gus accepted at once. He had had an idea that since Miriam had lived in the village all her life, she might well know something interesting about Alf Lowe and his family. And anyway, her fish cakes were always light and tasty, with plenty of delicious salmon in them. His mouth watered at the thought.
He returned to his cottage and Whippy stood shivering at the door. A virtual balloon hung above her head saying “walkies!” and he laughed. “All right, we’ll go. Perhaps we’ll follow on Ivy’s
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