English Tea Murder by Leslie Meier Page A

everybody? Thousands of people come to the V&A every day. How come none of them were coming to this exhibit? Ann needed help—that much was obvious—and Lucy didn’t know what to do.
    “It didn’t have to happen.” Ann’s eyes were open but she wasn’t seeing Lucy. She was in a trance. The words kept coming, as if once started on this story she couldn’t stop. “It was the brakes. We knew they were going, but money, there was never enough money back then, so we kept putting it off. It was always next week—we’d get it done next week. And then it was too late. Caroline was in the hospital for a month. I was there even longer, until the insurance money ran out and they sent me home. That was when they told me that little Bobby was gone. They’d been afraid to tell me before.”
    Ann was now leaning on Lucy for support, and Lucy felt as if Ann might collapse at any moment, taking them both down.
    “When I got home, there was nothing left of Bobby except a little stone in the cemetery. Tom had even cleaned out his room. He said he thought it would be easier for me.”
    Lucy felt as if her heart were being ripped from her chest as she led Ann to a bench in the stairwell. “Why don’t you sit for a minute?” she suggested, lowering the woman onto the seat as if she were a fragile old lady. Then she seated herself beside Ann and took her hand, patting it. That’s how they were when Tom and Caroline came up the steps, reminding Lucy of the cavalry in an old Western movie. Like the folks inside the circle of wagons, she felt a huge sense of relief.
    “What’s happened?” asked Tom, rushing to his wife’s side. Behind him, Caroline was breathing heavily from the exertion of getting her extra weight up the stairs.
    “Ann was upset by this medical exhibit,” said Lucy, standing up. She couldn’t wait to get away. “I have to meet my friends in the café,” she said, apologizing for her abrupt departure.

    Lucy found her friends seated at a table in part of the café that was decorated in what she now knew, thanks to her brief foray into the British Galleries, as the Arts and Crafts style. Stained glass, colorful tiles, and heavy wood paneling created a cozy nook in the huge, bustling café, where you fetched your food from various serving stations. The girls had already bought cups of tea and were waiting for her before getting their food. Sue wanted only a small salad, so she stayed at the table to save their seats while they got in line at one of the busy cafeteria counters.
    “What happened to you?” asked Rachel as they waited to place their orders.
    “I don’t know. I was looking at some silver and then I couldn’t find you, and then I got sidetracked by Ann Smith.” Lucy didn’t want to say more until she’d sorted out her own emotions, which were still in turmoil. She felt badly for Ann, of course, but she also resented the way Ann had burdened her with such an unhappy story.
    “I hope you didn’t miss the Great Bed of Ware.” Pam was studying the list of menu choices above the counter.
    “I think I did. How great was it?”
    Pam smiled. “Pretty great. You could fit the whole family in that bed.”
    “Including grandma, the dog, and a chicken or twelve,” added Rachel.
    “Which they probably did,” said Lucy, appreciating her friends’ humor.
    “What can I get you?” asked the server, a chubby-cheeked woman.
    “Cottage pie.” After the unfortunate dinner at Ye Olde English Roast Beef, Lucy had decided the best strategy was to eat heartily when food was available and affordable, and looked good.
    Pam and Rachel agreed. “Make that three,” said Pam. “And a small salad.”
    “What exactly keeps Sue going?” asked Pam as they carried their heavily loaded trays back to their table. “What does she run on?”
    Lucy shrugged. “Don’t ask me. It’s nothing but black coffee, salad, and wine, but she has plenty of energy. I can’t keep up with her.”
    “I worry about her.”