Dirty Tricks by Jo Carnegie

Author:Jo Carnegie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Transworld

Chapter 34

Clementine stood up from her gardening mat and massaged her aching knees. It was ironic, she reflected, that ever since Errol Flynn had died and she’d stopped walking as much, she had started suffering all kinds of ailments. It was almost as if her body were protesting against the absence of its normal energetic routine.

She stood back and looked over her garden with a critical eye. One of the finest in the county, it was a well-organized riot of colour. Clementine didn’t like her garden to look too manicured; there was something of the dreaded suburbia and Saturday morning car-washing about neat, plastic-looking lawns.

As she squinted through the mid-morning sun Clementine spotted something lurid and green lurking under the apple blossom. What was that? She went over to investigate and found it was a stuffed green frog. One of the great-grandchildren must have left it last time they were here. Clementine smiled at the thought. Churchminster’s spring fair was coming up soon and Caro was bringing Milo and Rosie down for it. Clementine was aching to see them all.

She picked up the soft toy, dangling it aloft from one froggy leg. She’d better go and wash it through and put it in the Aga to dry. Aside from doing her own laundry, Clementine didn’t have much else planned today. She could always drop in on one of her friends, and the Reverend always needed his tail chasing about church business, but Clementine didn’t feel much like socializing. Besides, she told herself, she had some Fashion Cares business to attend to. She hoped that Saffron and Rex realized how pressing time was. Clementine knew that one couldn’t afford to take one’s eyes off these things for a minute.

As she looked up at her huge, empty house a feeling of loneliness washed over her. Was such a big place really necessary for one person? Fairoaks had been in the Standington-Fulthropes for generations, but suddenly it seemed self-indulgent, extravagant. Clementine’s heart clenched at the thought of giving it up, though. She raised her eyes to the upper windows, and the mauve wisteria blanketing the exterior wall.

‘What to do, old friend?’ she murmured. The house looked back stoically, as if it knew her thoughts. We’re one and the same, it seemed to be saying. Clementine allowed herself a wry smile. People really would think she was going senile if they knew she was talking to her house.

Clementine’s plans to spend the day alone, however, were not to be. She was in the conservatory hanging up her gloves when there was a fearsome rattling on the kitchen door.

‘What the … ?’ Clementine rushed out to look.

Ambrose Fraser was outside, knocking impatiently. He saw her through the glass and flapped a driving glove. ‘Clementine!

She went over and pulled the door open. ‘Ambrose, are you all right?’

He was wearing some sort of old-fashioned racing cap, a pair of goggles pushed up on his head. ‘Perfectly! Are you busy?’

‘Well …’ Clementine was at a loss for words.

Ambrose grinned broadly.

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