his nose at me if I try and say anything.’
Ben raised an eyebrow. ‘Considering his Ma is working class London and his Dad wasn’t exactly top drawer I don’t know how he manages that.’
‘Oh, you know what he’s like,’ said Harry, and Libby, picturing Peter’s patrician nose and floppy fair hair, did know.
‘We’ll do what we can,’ said Libby, ‘but we might have to fall back on Ben’s suggestion.’
‘Oh, well,’ said Harry, ‘small price to pay, I suppose.’
‘ My small price,’ said Ben, ‘thank you.’
Harry grinned at him. ‘You’ll get your reward, darling,’ he said. ‘And just think, after this we’ll actually be related.’
Ben cast his eyes up to the ceiling and Libby sniggered. ‘Not sure it works that way,’ she said.
‘In my book it does.’ Harry leant over and poured more brandy. ‘Drink up, cousin-in-law.’
‘So,’ said Ben, as they strolled home a little later, ‘what happened this morning with Fran and the theatrical lady?’
‘Goodness,’ said Libby, ‘I’d forgotten all about that. I think Fran came up with something, but she hasn’t wanted to share it. We’re going Christmas shopping tomorrow, so she’ll probably tell me then.’
‘She’s still scared of them, isn’t she?’
‘Her moments? Yes, she is.’ They turned the corner into Allhallow’s Lane. ‘She’s better at focusing them, now, and she did ask for something to take away, so that she could concentrate on it. That’s what the proper psychics do, isn’t it?’
‘Fran being an improper psychic, eh?’ Ben squeezed her arm. ‘I wonder how Goodall and Smythe bill her? “Our resident psychic”? “Our investigative medium”?’
‘I don’t suppose they do,’ said Libby, getting out her key. ‘I expect they simply tell clients they’ll get somebody to look into the property. They must be the very expensive ones, mustn’t they?’
‘Usually, yes, but occasionally she’s had to go to an ordinary street which has a reputation, and on one occasion to a house where it was thought a murder had taken place. She said it hadn’t.’
‘Was she telling the truth?’ asked Libby, opening the door and switching on the light.
‘As far as I know.’ Ben followed her in. ‘And now are we going to talk about something apart from murders and other people’s weddings?’
Chapter Six
B ELLA RANG FRAN THE following morning.
‘I’m going to see Aunt Maria’s grave,’ she said. ‘Would you like to come with me?’
As an invitation it left a lot to be desired.
‘You know where she’s buried, then?’
‘Not buried, exactly. I went and asked George at the pub last night, and he said she was cremated, and her ashes had been scattered in the garden at the crematorium.’
‘So why do you want to go?’ asked Fran, who had no patience with a morbid desire to seek out the remains of human flesh and worship at the graveside. If the spirit was alive, fair enough, but there certainly wasn’t anything left in a grave, or ashes.
‘I thought I should,’ said Bella. ‘Don’t you think I should?’
‘I don’t see why,’ said Fran, and explained her own feelings. ‘Mind you,’ she concluded, ‘I know mine isn’t the popular take.’
‘I see what you mean,’ said Bella. ‘But we’ve been every year to Andrew’s mother’s grave, and to look at the tree I planted for my mother and father. It seemed the thing to do.’
‘Up to you,’ said Fran, ‘but I wouldn’t get anything from the visit if that’s what you were hoping.’
‘Well, I was rather,’ said Bella, with a nervous laugh.
‘I’m still thinking about what we found yesterday,’ said Fran. ‘Have you had a look through any of those files yet?’
‘Yes, but not many. I managed to open the file for the 1920s again, and the one that said “Up to 1920”. I didn’t know what would be in that one, because Maria wasn’t born until 1914, but there were a couple of things listed, so I found the box
Ben raised an eyebrow. ‘Considering his Ma is working class London and his Dad wasn’t exactly top drawer I don’t know how he manages that.’
‘Oh, you know what he’s like,’ said Harry, and Libby, picturing Peter’s patrician nose and floppy fair hair, did know.
‘We’ll do what we can,’ said Libby, ‘but we might have to fall back on Ben’s suggestion.’
‘Oh, well,’ said Harry, ‘small price to pay, I suppose.’
‘ My small price,’ said Ben, ‘thank you.’
Harry grinned at him. ‘You’ll get your reward, darling,’ he said. ‘And just think, after this we’ll actually be related.’
Ben cast his eyes up to the ceiling and Libby sniggered. ‘Not sure it works that way,’ she said.
‘In my book it does.’ Harry leant over and poured more brandy. ‘Drink up, cousin-in-law.’
‘So,’ said Ben, as they strolled home a little later, ‘what happened this morning with Fran and the theatrical lady?’
‘Goodness,’ said Libby, ‘I’d forgotten all about that. I think Fran came up with something, but she hasn’t wanted to share it. We’re going Christmas shopping tomorrow, so she’ll probably tell me then.’
‘She’s still scared of them, isn’t she?’
‘Her moments? Yes, she is.’ They turned the corner into Allhallow’s Lane. ‘She’s better at focusing them, now, and she did ask for something to take away, so that she could concentrate on it. That’s what the proper psychics do, isn’t it?’
‘Fran being an improper psychic, eh?’ Ben squeezed her arm. ‘I wonder how Goodall and Smythe bill her? “Our resident psychic”? “Our investigative medium”?’
‘I don’t suppose they do,’ said Libby, getting out her key. ‘I expect they simply tell clients they’ll get somebody to look into the property. They must be the very expensive ones, mustn’t they?’
‘Usually, yes, but occasionally she’s had to go to an ordinary street which has a reputation, and on one occasion to a house where it was thought a murder had taken place. She said it hadn’t.’
‘Was she telling the truth?’ asked Libby, opening the door and switching on the light.
‘As far as I know.’ Ben followed her in. ‘And now are we going to talk about something apart from murders and other people’s weddings?’
Chapter Six
B ELLA RANG FRAN THE following morning.
‘I’m going to see Aunt Maria’s grave,’ she said. ‘Would you like to come with me?’
As an invitation it left a lot to be desired.
‘You know where she’s buried, then?’
‘Not buried, exactly. I went and asked George at the pub last night, and he said she was cremated, and her ashes had been scattered in the garden at the crematorium.’
‘So why do you want to go?’ asked Fran, who had no patience with a morbid desire to seek out the remains of human flesh and worship at the graveside. If the spirit was alive, fair enough, but there certainly wasn’t anything left in a grave, or ashes.
‘I thought I should,’ said Bella. ‘Don’t you think I should?’
‘I don’t see why,’ said Fran, and explained her own feelings. ‘Mind you,’ she concluded, ‘I know mine isn’t the popular take.’
‘I see what you mean,’ said Bella. ‘But we’ve been every year to Andrew’s mother’s grave, and to look at the tree I planted for my mother and father. It seemed the thing to do.’
‘Up to you,’ said Fran, ‘but I wouldn’t get anything from the visit if that’s what you were hoping.’
‘Well, I was rather,’ said Bella, with a nervous laugh.
‘I’m still thinking about what we found yesterday,’ said Fran. ‘Have you had a look through any of those files yet?’
‘Yes, but not many. I managed to open the file for the 1920s again, and the one that said “Up to 1920”. I didn’t know what would be in that one, because Maria wasn’t born until 1914, but there were a couple of things listed, so I found the box
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