The Secret Locket by Suzan Stainforth

Author:Suzan Stainforth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2012-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

The fire was roaring in the little cottage set back in a valley surrounded by mountains on the east coast of Scotland. Frances started to unpack the case, which Larry had placed on the bed in the dainty back bedroom. The room had a slight moist smell, which indicated that the cottage had not been lived in for a while. She peered over to the little window, which showed a picturesque view of the Scottish mountains.

“You couldn’t swing a cat in here,” Frances whispered under her breath as she began to unpack the clothes from their case.

A double bed just about fitted in the room but it took up almost the whole length, with only a few inches to spare, so you could just about squeeze around it. On the plain cream walls were hanging pictures of country scenes and two small cabinets, which had been painted a light turquoise pastel colour, had been placed at each end of the bed, and there was also a matching double wardrobe.

Frances went over to the window to view the natural beauty of the area. It was a cool evening and in the distance, she could see a shimmering mist, which covered the peaks of the mountains and drifted along passively, like a ghostly presence.

Frances opened the window to air the room, taking in the crisp freshness. Her thoughts switched to Joseph, and she was just beginning to reminisce about when the twins were born and the stages of them growing up together. When Larry called her from the bottom of the stairs.

“I have poured you a drink. Come and sit by the fire for a rest,” he told her.

“I will be with you shortly. Just need to finish unpacking,” she called as she squeezed the last jumper into the tiny drawer.

“Okay,” Larry replied, “don’t be too long, will you?” He wandered back into the lounge. He had already chopped some logs ready for the evening and now he threw two more blocks on the fire; they snapped and crackled as they hit the hot flames. He sat on a peach floral design settee, placing his glass of brandy on the old, scuffed surface of the teak coffee table.

A loud, old-fashioned ’tringing’ ringtone alerted his attention the noise echoed around the room. Larry looked behind him and saw a free standing, cream, 1950s dial telephone set on the dark oak welsh dresser. He managed to stretch his arm over to pick the receiver up.

“Hello, Larry Knight,” he announced.

A female voice replied, “Hello, this is WPC Browne from police headquarters. I hope you and Mrs. Knight both had a good journey and are settling into the cottage?”

“We are both fine,” Larry assured her.

“Good,” said Ruth. “I am calling about your daughter, Penny, and to let you know that Charles Webber is locating her as we speak. He will try to encourage Penny to join you in Scotland. Although I have to say this: she is an adult and therefore accountable for her own actions; we can only advise.

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