02 The Nursery Rhyme Murders by Anthony Litton

Author:Anthony Litton [Litton, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-05-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

‘An interesting attempt,’ murmured Desmond neutrally as they left the Linklater’s and headed off to their next visit, again an entry in the “novel” category. ‘Very… er… modern,’ he added, hiding a smile.

‘Indeed, very… edgy, I think the word is.’ she replied, casting an amused glance at her son, well aware that he was goading her. ‘Still, one must move with the times,’ she added, not having the slightest intention of doing so.

‘In with a chance?’ he asked, unable to resist asking.

‘Marcia seems to think so,’ his mother replied drily. ‘Personally, although I found the whole attempt repulsive, I’m more concerned with the fact that they had help, extensive help, from the contractors of the various items they bought.’

‘They said they’d done it all themselves!’ he said in surprise.

‘Indeed, that is what they said. My information is otherwise,’ she replied crisply. ‘Regardless of whatever marks they get from Marcia and the vicar, they will lose fifty marks automatically.’

Desmond had earlier felt a fleeting sympathy for the beleaguered vicar as he imagined his convoluted attempts to maintain at least some dignity as he endeavoured to please both the two strong-willed ladies when they met up at the end of the visits and made their final decisions. It was, however, only fleeting, and he now wished heartily that he could eavesdrop on the up-coming conversation.

Having been directed to their next destination, the penultimate one on their list, he noted with great relief, Desmond was intrigued. Abel Bulstead, a villager well into middle age, had suddenly gone to the far east and returned with an oriental bride, a lady he admitted later was twenty years his junior. Equally intriguingly, he’d insisted on entering two categories of the competition – the Innovative and the Traditional. A hurried read through the rules, made it clear that, although no one had ever done so before, there was nothing to stop him, so the judges were extremely curious as to what he’d come up with.

‘Oh! How lovely!’ murmured Eleanor as they entered the small garden through the open French windows. And indeed it was, thought her son. And it was blindingly obvious why Abel had entered it in the two categories. Obviously under the influence of his diminutive wife, who shyly acknowledged their welcomes, he had created an exquisite, and very traditional, Japanese garden. The couple radiated an air of quiet happiness in each other, despite the obvious disparity in their ages, which Desmond put nearer to thirty years rather than the twenty Abel would reluctantly admit to, and this had translated into the serenity of the lovely garden.

The minimalist beauty of the true Japanese garden was brilliantly caught. Stands of bamboo, interspersed with other tall grasses, provided the backdrop to the rest of the space. Central was a beautiful ornamental pool, spanned by a tiny bridge constructed of wood and stone, while below, in the clear water, lazily swam a number of small carp, their indolent swimming causing scarcely a ripple on its tranquil surface.

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