British Murder by Leslie Meier

British Murder by Leslie Meier

Author:Leslie Meier [Meier, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-01-16T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Two

“The show opens May eighth, but Perry wants us to have a nice visit, so he suggests we come a week or two before,” said Sue as Norine stopped by their table to present their checks.

“Bluebells might be in bloom then,” said Lucy, who remembered seeing a photograph of an English bluebell walk in a travel magazine she’d read in the dentist’s waiting room. The photo showed a woodland where the ground was covered in a gorgeous carpet of blue blooms.

“Jo Malone’s Bluebell was Princess Diana’s favorite scent.” Sue was an avid magazine reader and knew about such things.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful to smell bluebells,” said Lucy, checking the tab and putting down a five dollar bill.

“Maybe we will.” Sue stood up and was buttoning the luxurious shearling coat Sid had given her for Christmas.

“I’m sure there’ll be bluebells,” said Pam, digging into her enormous African basket purse in search of her wallet. “Be sure to take a photo and send it to us.”

“We’ll want to hear all about it,” said Rachel, wrapping her plum-colored pashmina scarf around her neck.

“Do you think you’ll meet royalty?” asked Pam as they made their way through the café to the door. “Maybe Perry is friends with Prince Charles or somebody.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Lucy. Assailed by second thoughts, she stopped at the door. “I wouldn’t know what to do!”

“I think you curtsey,” said Pam, opening the door.

“I know you’re not supposed to touch royalty unless they touch you first,” said Rachel as they gathered in a little circle on the sidewalk. “Some basketball player got in trouble for hugging Princess Kate, didn’t he? In Brooklyn.”

“What was Princess Kate doing in Brooklyn?” asked Pam.

“Hanging out with Beyoncé and JayZ,” said Rachel. “I read it in the New York Times.”

“Face it. They’re the closest thing we Americans have to royalty,” said Sue, adding a wistful sigh. “We’re hardly in that category so I doubt very much that we’ll be meeting any royals, but what if we do?” She smoothed her brown leather gloves. “They’re just people and I’m sure our natural good manners will see us through. After all, we’re Americans. We’re not subjects and we don’t have to bow and scrape and tug our forelocks. That was the whole point of that little revolution we had in 1776.”

“I don’t know,” said Lucy as dark clouds of doubt started to build in her mind. “What if they dress for dinner like at Downton Abbey, and there’s all those forks and knives and snooty footmen who sneer when you pick up the wrong utensil?” She shivered and stuffed her gloved hands into her pockets.

“Downton Abbey is a TV show and it all takes place a long time ago. They’re in the roaring twenties now, which is almost a hundred years ago. The women are all wearing those awful chemises and ugly cloches, which I don’t think flatter anybody,” declared Sue, flipping up her fuzzy collar. “I think we can assume that a lot has changed since then.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, if I were you,” cautioned Rachel, fingering her car keys.



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