his surprise.
‘We’ve got in some Chinese takeaway,’ she said.
That made up for it.
The three of them – four, counting the dog – made short work of the sweet and sour pork, the chicken chow mein and the Singapore vegetable rice vermicelli, not to mention the prawn crackers.
‘They’ve got real prawns in them, you know,’ said Amaryllis. ‘I asked the owner.’
‘As long as it’s not horse,’ said Charlie, and laughed.
‘I wish I hadn’t bothered cheering you up,’ said Amaryllis, giving him a hard stare.
‘So you’ve been out getting into trouble with Amaryllis,’ said Christopher to Charlie, trying not to sound too envious.
‘Yes,’ said Charlie. ‘I hope we won’t be doing it again tomorrow. My poor old legs wouldn’t last another day.’
‘Did she make you run away?’
‘Yes.’
‘Across somebody’s garden?’
‘Yes.’
‘You enjoyed it really,’ said Amaryllis, tidying up the foil containers. ‘We’ve been waiting for you to come home, Christopher, to hold a conference.’
‘Oh, so sorry I have to work to earn a living and hold up your investigations,’ said Christopher. ‘Will we go into the front room or do we need the table for this conference?’
‘We won’t include you at all if you’re going to be like that,’ said Amaryllis.
‘It’s my house!’
‘So?’
Christopher gave up. They all sat back down at the kitchen table with tea and a few slices of toast for added brain-power.
‘So what exactly are we looking for?’ he said. He had gone ahead and found the names and addresses Amaryllis wanted without knowing why. It was the story of his life since he had met her.
‘More information about the beer delivery last Friday,’ she said.
‘I was there,’ said Christopher. ‘So were you, Charlie.’
Charlie looked embarrassed. ‘I was a bit out of it.’
‘Did either of you notice anything odd going on?’ said Amaryllis. ‘No, of course you didn’t. Did anyone else even walk past while you were immersed in whatever you were immersed in – staring at the dog or something?’
‘I’ve thought about this already,’ said Christopher. He closed his eyes. ‘Neil Macrae said something when I was passing the pub.’
‘What was it?’
‘I can’t remember – no, I didn’t hear properly because of all the din they made shifting barrels off the lorry. Maybe he was just telling me to watch out. He had part of the pavement up so that they could deliver straight into the cellar.’
‘What happened next?’
‘I spoke to Charlie – then he was sick – then there was an awful crash and someone shouting – then I saw the delivery lorry pulling away… I’ve got a feeling there was something else though. It’s been nagging at me. But I can’t picture it.’
‘Presumably it wasn’t Liam Joh nstone jumping or being pushed into the cellar,’ she said. ‘What about the awful crash? Will Neil remember that?’
‘You’d have to ask him. It was maybe the usual sound they make when they put the trapdoors back down. Then shouting goodbye or something.’
‘You see,’ said Amaryllis, ‘there were very few opportunities for Liam to get into the cellar. I’ve seen Neil behind the bar, and he’s on the alert all the time. I know he sometimes looks as if he’s half-asleep but he’s as tense as – as the dog when it knows there’s chicken chow mein about. He springs into life if anything happens in the bar. Remember that time Maisie Sue dropped her knitting in Jock McLean’s pint? He was over in a flash making sure she was all right.’
‘She wasn’t all right: she was hysterical,’ said Charlie, starting to laugh again. ‘But that’s nothing to what Jock was like.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ said Amaryllis. ‘I’ve still got the scar on my wrist from trying to restrain him.’
‘So you suspect the beer delivery men of pushing him into the cellar?’ said Christopher, rather proud of the way he had put two and two
‘We’ve got in some Chinese takeaway,’ she said.
That made up for it.
The three of them – four, counting the dog – made short work of the sweet and sour pork, the chicken chow mein and the Singapore vegetable rice vermicelli, not to mention the prawn crackers.
‘They’ve got real prawns in them, you know,’ said Amaryllis. ‘I asked the owner.’
‘As long as it’s not horse,’ said Charlie, and laughed.
‘I wish I hadn’t bothered cheering you up,’ said Amaryllis, giving him a hard stare.
‘So you’ve been out getting into trouble with Amaryllis,’ said Christopher to Charlie, trying not to sound too envious.
‘Yes,’ said Charlie. ‘I hope we won’t be doing it again tomorrow. My poor old legs wouldn’t last another day.’
‘Did she make you run away?’
‘Yes.’
‘Across somebody’s garden?’
‘Yes.’
‘You enjoyed it really,’ said Amaryllis, tidying up the foil containers. ‘We’ve been waiting for you to come home, Christopher, to hold a conference.’
‘Oh, so sorry I have to work to earn a living and hold up your investigations,’ said Christopher. ‘Will we go into the front room or do we need the table for this conference?’
‘We won’t include you at all if you’re going to be like that,’ said Amaryllis.
‘It’s my house!’
‘So?’
Christopher gave up. They all sat back down at the kitchen table with tea and a few slices of toast for added brain-power.
‘So what exactly are we looking for?’ he said. He had gone ahead and found the names and addresses Amaryllis wanted without knowing why. It was the story of his life since he had met her.
‘More information about the beer delivery last Friday,’ she said.
‘I was there,’ said Christopher. ‘So were you, Charlie.’
Charlie looked embarrassed. ‘I was a bit out of it.’
‘Did either of you notice anything odd going on?’ said Amaryllis. ‘No, of course you didn’t. Did anyone else even walk past while you were immersed in whatever you were immersed in – staring at the dog or something?’
‘I’ve thought about this already,’ said Christopher. He closed his eyes. ‘Neil Macrae said something when I was passing the pub.’
‘What was it?’
‘I can’t remember – no, I didn’t hear properly because of all the din they made shifting barrels off the lorry. Maybe he was just telling me to watch out. He had part of the pavement up so that they could deliver straight into the cellar.’
‘What happened next?’
‘I spoke to Charlie – then he was sick – then there was an awful crash and someone shouting – then I saw the delivery lorry pulling away… I’ve got a feeling there was something else though. It’s been nagging at me. But I can’t picture it.’
‘Presumably it wasn’t Liam Joh nstone jumping or being pushed into the cellar,’ she said. ‘What about the awful crash? Will Neil remember that?’
‘You’d have to ask him. It was maybe the usual sound they make when they put the trapdoors back down. Then shouting goodbye or something.’
‘You see,’ said Amaryllis, ‘there were very few opportunities for Liam to get into the cellar. I’ve seen Neil behind the bar, and he’s on the alert all the time. I know he sometimes looks as if he’s half-asleep but he’s as tense as – as the dog when it knows there’s chicken chow mein about. He springs into life if anything happens in the bar. Remember that time Maisie Sue dropped her knitting in Jock McLean’s pint? He was over in a flash making sure she was all right.’
‘She wasn’t all right: she was hysterical,’ said Charlie, starting to laugh again. ‘But that’s nothing to what Jock was like.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ said Amaryllis. ‘I’ve still got the scar on my wrist from trying to restrain him.’
‘So you suspect the beer delivery men of pushing him into the cellar?’ said Christopher, rather proud of the way he had put two and two
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