Poison at the Village Show by Catherine Coles

Author:Catherine Coles [Coles, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2022-03-16T16:00:00+00:00

8

Luke waited for me to disembark the train on the busy Paddington platform. He caught my arm. ‘Quickly, Mr Warren has already left the train.’

With our arms linked, we hurried through the throngs of people. Most were men with briefcases, smart hats and shiny shoes, heading for the offices of London. There were a few ladies who looked dressed for a day’s work, and several who appeared to be there for shopping. However, they all had one thing in common and that was that they walked by so caught up in their own lives and schedules that they paid me and the handsome vicar at my side no mind.

‘Can you see him?’ I asked as we reached the bottom of a flight of stairs.

‘Yes, let’s hurry.’

Luke motioned for me to go up the steps before him. At the top, I was rather out of breath. He caught hold of my arm once more as we emerged into the daylight.

A few minutes later, Charles Warren entered a building. Luke and I came to an abrupt halt outside. ‘What now?’

‘I shall go inside and enquire after him.’

‘Won’t that be rather obvious?’

‘I will say we are friends. I caught sight of him on the street, and I should like to meet him for lunch. It’s not completely untruthful.’ Luke looked at me with a worried expression. ‘Will you be all right here by yourself while I go inside?’

‘I frequently come to London by myself.’

He looked at me doubtfully. ‘If you’re sure.’

I nodded, and Luke went inside.

He was right to be distrustful of me. ‘Frequently’ was rather a stretch. I had once come into the city to meet Stan after work for dinner with the manager of his department and some other colleagues. Emboldened by that one excursion, I had caught the train again a few weeks later and surprised Stan at his office. He had certainly been shocked, but he was not pleased.

‘How did it go?’ I asked when Luke came back outside moments later.

‘Charles is a solicitor. He works for Marshall and Reynolds up on the third floor.’

‘What do we do now?’

Luke looked over my shoulder. ‘There’s a café across the road. Shall we sit in there and see what he does at lunchtime?’

‘It could be hours until he comes out for lunch.’

‘We didn’t really plan this very well, did we?’

I laughed. ‘Not at all.’

‘Mrs Miller.’ He indicated the café opposite. ‘Let me treat you to a cup of tea. A cup of real tea, with as much sugar as you like.’

It sounded heavenly and took me no time at all to give my answer. ‘I would be delighted. Thank you, Vicar.’

We found a pedestrian crossing and hurried across the road. He held the café door for me. When we were seated, he turned to me with an earnest expression. ‘Do you think, while we are away from the village, that we might call each other by our Christian names? It sounds so stuffy to call you “Mrs Miller”, even though I know we have only known each other a matter of days.

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