Death at the WI by Oster C. G

Author:Oster, C. G.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

STANDING BY THE OVEN, Dory waited the minute needed before she took the oat and raisin biscuits out that she’d decided to prepare for the WI meeting. Her sugar stores were very low at the moment, so she’d sweetened them with prune pulp. It could be that she brought nothing to the meeting this time, if they proved inedible.

Tapping her fingers on the countertop, she waited, then finally took them out. They had a golden hue, so they weren’t undercooked, hopefully. Shifting them to the cooling tray, she waited a few minutes more before carefully placing them in the biscuit tin.

The tin was still very warm when she carried it to the meeting hall, but she was eager to get there. She’d been looking forward to this for days. The topic wasn’t perhaps something she was remotely good at—sewing—but it was a skill that served one well if one had some affinity with it.

The murmur of talking was heard in the hall before Dory reached it and she surveyed the gathered party as she walked in. Sue smiled at her as she walked to the tea table to deliver her biscuits. “Hello, Dory. How are you?”

“I’m well,” she replied. “Enjoying autumn in the district.”

“I suppose it’s your first autumn here. I couldn’t imagine moving to a place I didn’t know. I’ve only ever lived here. To be honest, I’m not thoroughly excited about today’s topic, but thought I’d come along anyway. It’s a good excuse to get away from the house.”

Penelope arrived just then and arrived with a batch of shortbread. “How are you both?”

“Well,” Sue said. “Did you enjoy the harvest festival?”

“Immensely,” Penelope said.

“I saw you with Henry Wallis.”

Red spread up Penelope’s cheeks at the statement. “It is true, I made him come. Someone has to ensure he gets out of the house.”

Dory hadn’t seen either of them at the harvest festival, but it seemed that Penelope taking care of Henry Wallis was an ongoing venture. The younger women seemed intent to tease her about it, and perhaps because she refused to say she had any hopes for the association when it was so very clear that she did.

“How are you, Mrs. Ridley?” Penelope asked as Sue moved away to talk to another new arrival.

“I have been working on my winter garden,” Dory said.

“You seem to lead a life of leisure.”

It felt a little as if there was accusation in her tone. Truthfully, it was a life barely keeping ahead of abject boredom, but Dory was trying to find the things that would fill her life. So much of her adult life had been spent working, she hadn’t developed her interest in gentler pursuits and good housekeeping. “It is not as busy as being on a farm,” she admitted. Perhaps that perceived leisure was a major factor in the resentment of the local women to the newcomers. “I ran into Constable Worthing,” Dory said. It was stretching the truth a little as she’d specifically gone to see him. “There seems to have been strong words between Mr.

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