The Mousse Wonderful Time of Year (Oxford Tearoom Mysteries ~ Book 10): Christmas Whodunnit Special by H.Y. Hanna

Author:H.Y. Hanna
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Wisheart Press
Published: 2019-11-30T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

By the time I got back to Oxford, it was late afternoon. Cole had dropped the Old Biddies off first at their respective homes, then driven me back to my little modern cottage in a development beside Folly Bridge, on the south side of the university city. I sighed with pleasure as I stepped into my front hallway and let Muesli out of her carrier. She strutted around, rubbing her chin on various bits of furniture and meowing loudly. I smiled to myself. For once, I was in total agreement with my cat: it was good to be home.

Then I remembered that I was supposed to be going over to my parents’ this afternoon and staying there until after Boxing Day, so there wouldn’t be much time to enjoy being home—I would have to leave again in a few hours. At least I don’t need to check in at the tearoom though, I thought with a flash relief. The Little Stables had officially closed yesterday for the holiday season and would not be reopening until after New Year’s Day.

I filled Muesli’s bowl with fresh cat food but she sniffed it disdainfully, then looked up at me.

“Meorrw!”

“What is it? Your food is there.” I pointed to the bowl.

“Meorrw… Meorrw!” Muesli lashed her tail, then looked hopefully towards the fridge.

I put my hands on my hips. “Oh ho! Expecting some roast turkey and smoked salmon, are you? Well, this isn’t Thurlby Hall and you’re not getting luxury table scraps anymore.”

“Meoooorrw?” Muesli said forlornly.

“No. You’ve got perfectly good cat food. Very expensive, specially formulated cat food, that I have to make a special trip to the pet shop to buy,” I added, looking at her sternly. “And that’s all you’re going to get.”

Muesli gave an irritable twitch of her whiskers, then turned and stalked huffily out of the kitchen. A minute later, I could hear her in the sitting room, yowling piteously, like a stray who hadn’t been fed for days.

Grrrrr… Cats!

Ignoring her histrionics, I went upstairs. I was looking forward to getting out of my grimy clothes and into a hot shower. As I stood under the spray, it felt a bit like I was symbolically washing off all the tensions and dramas of the past day. I stepped out at last, pink and glowing, and feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. As I was towelling myself dry, I glanced at the vanity unit and realised that I’d run out of my favourite moisturiser. There was enough time to pop into town and buy a bottle, I decided. One of the great benefits of where I lived was how close it was to the centre of Oxford. It would take me ten minutes to walk up to the high street where all the shops were. I would be back in under an hour, with still plenty of time to spare.

Fifteen minutes later, I found myself on Cornmarket Street, the main pedestrianised strip in the centre of the university city. Melting snow lay in

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