Murders at the Winterbottom Women's Institute by Gina Kirkham

Author:Gina Kirkham [Kirkham, Gina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2022-05-24T16:00:00+00:00

Pru peeled off the wholemeal slice of bread from her sandwich and investigated the remaining piece and its contents.

Lettuce, tomato, ham and…

‘Eeew, who the hell puts this on a sarnie?’ She pinched the offending slimy circle of dill pickle between her thumb and forefinger and pretended to gag.

‘Mmm… they’re lovely, really zingy, although I must admit they go better on a burger.’ Bree dabbed the corner of her mouth with the serviette and tentatively inspected her own sandwich. ‘Nope, none on this.’

‘Here, have mine then.’ Pru flicked the pickle towards Bree’s plate, but with a bit more gusto than was really necessary. It sailed through the air, bypassed Bree, shot over Lucy’s shoulder, and was only halted in its progress by Jason, the rather fit barman of the Dog & Gun. It slapped loudly as it stuck to his cheek.

The girls looked on horrified as a startled Jason, tray in hand containing their round of drinks, froze on the spot. The dill pickle, which by now resembled a giant wart, clung on for a few seconds more before gravity kicked in and it flopped from his cheek to rest on his crisp white shirt.

‘Oops, shit, I’ve just given you a new brand logo. It’s the “pickle-ator” instead of the alligator.’ Pru chuckled, bringing her hand up to her mouth to execute a pretty poor stage whisper to Lucy and Bree. ‘I think that’s his best Zara shirt too; it’ll have cost a bomb!’ As Jason pressed his thumb over the nail of his middle finger, preparing to flick the offending garnish into oblivion, Pru tried to appease him. ‘Jase, I’m so sorry, it was meant for Bree.’

Without breaking his stride, he simultaneously eradicated the pickle and plonked their drinks onto the table. ‘No sweat, ladies, I’m used to it.’ He flipped the tray under his arm. ‘I do the school run for my neighbours’ kids twice a week; they’re disgusting too – and by the way, it’s a crocodile, not an alligator!’

‘Oooh, don’t be so snappy!’ Bree quipped.

Jason grinned and gave her a saucy touché as he made his way back to the bar, leaving them bunched together and giggling like schoolgirls.

‘Okay, so pickles and Juicy Jason apart, what’s the latest on our “Ladykiller”, Luce?’ Bree was a lot more forthcoming in her desire to know the finer details of Winterbottom’s gruesome events than Pru.

Lucy mumbled through a mouthful of coronation chicken, picking at a stray piece of cress that was dangling from the corner of her mouth. ‘Still not much more to go on, apart from what I think are the strange clues left at the scene, which both Andy and the DI are reluctant to believe have anything to do with the case, and there’s very little forensically to go on, either.’

A silence fell over the three friends as they digested Lucy’s lack of anything decent to add to their own investigation.

Pru was the first to speak. ‘It’s got history, I know it has. There’s something behind all this that’s the catalyst.

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