Death Remembered: A Sleuthing Club Mystery (Book 1) by K E Coburn

Author:K E Coburn [Coburn, K E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

It had been a few days since the police had departed and silence descended once again on the village. Jane bustled around the kitchen, her apron tied tightly around her waist and a tea towel slung over her shoulder. Since Owen’s arrest, the letters seemed to have stopped, and her mother and father had relaxed, thankful that the whole sordid thing was behind them.

Charity rested the book in her lap, still holding the spine. She was preparing for another meeting of the Sleuthing Club that evening. This time, they were reading Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon. It was okay. She quite liked Sam Spade in the same way she liked Philip Marlowe, and Stanley had been right the other day that it did make a change from the quieter setting of England. Sam Spade was tough and streetwise, but not crass or thuggish. He had a brain, and he used it. Reading it in her head with an American accent made it feel even more exciting – like watching a movie. Though in many ways it reminded her how desperately she wanted an exciting life. Her mother’s good humour was evident in the way she was humming to herself, and Charity decided this might be a good time to ask her about London. ‘Mother?’

‘Yes, dear?’ Jane replied, scrubbing the kitchen table.

Lowering her legs to the floor, Charity said, ‘I, umm ... I was talking to Henry Taylor the other day.’

Her mother’s hands slowed, but she didn’t look up. ‘Yes?’

‘He’s going to sell his mother’s house and move back to London.’ Saying the words out loud hurt her more than she could say, but she pushed the feeling down. She needed to sound clear and in control.

‘A very sensible thing to do, if you ask me.’

‘He said that, if I were to go to London, he could check on me and help me settle in. You know, keep an eye on me.’ Charity didn’t mention the parties.

Jane stopped cleaning and looked up. ‘And what would you do in London?’

They’d been over this before, but Charity bit back the urge to roll her eyes. ‘I could train to be a secretary, Mother, like Martha has.’

This was the part where her mother said, ‘Not on your life are you going to that sinful city alone. It’ll eat you alive, a young innocent like you.’ The words of their previous conversations were ingrained on Charity’s mind. Jane cleared her throat, and Charity squared her shoulders, preparing for the onslaught, but then Jane said, ‘We’ll see,’ and Charity nearly dropped her book in surprise.

‘Really?’ Joy filled her chest, and she felt her lungs expand.

‘Yes. We’ll see,’ Jane repeated. ‘It seems this place isn’t safer than anywhere else. I’ll talk to your father when the time is right and see if he agrees. If you’re happy to go snooping at dead bodies, you can probably hold your own in that place.’

Charity ran and hugged her mother, who, with red, damp hands, returned the embrace. ‘But if you go,’ her mother began, ‘you must write every week.

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