Hamish Macbeth 20; Death of a Poison Pen by M.C. Beaton

Author:M.C. Beaton [Beaton, M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: [2010.01.06]
Publisher: [Côte d’Azur]
Published: 2003-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

∨ Death of a Poison Pen ∧

7

O waly, waly, gin love be bonnie,

A little time, while it is new!

But when ‘tis auld it waxeth cauld,

And fades own’ like morning dew.

—Anonymous

The following morning, Jenny, wrapped in a rosy dream, ate her breakfast. Pat had told her his ambitions of being an ace reporter on a national newspaper and then moving on to television. Jenny was determined to return to London engaged to be married. Hamish Macbeth was proving too difficult and she obscurely blamed him for having caught her lying. But now, if she was married to a top reporter, that would be something to brag about. And it would mean no more disappointing affairs, no more going out on dates. She would be Mrs. Mallone. They would have a trim London house, somewhere fashionable, and she would see him off in the morning and then have nothing else to do but leave instructions for the cleaning woman. No more work. No more going to the office. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be married before Priscilla! I’ll make her my bridesmaid, thought Jenny. I’ll make her wear a yellow dress. Yellow was never Priscilla’s colour.

Now, what should she do with the day? Pat had phoned to say he would be spending the whole day in Braikie. She could go there herself and see if she could find out anything. Yes, that might be a good idea. If she was going to be Mrs. Mallone, then she should help her future husband in getting his first break. She could see it now. He would become a foreign correspondent for the BBC and she would go with him everywhere and become something of a celebrity. Of course, that notion rather spoiled the dream of having a lazy married existence at home. Suddenly, she remembered the seer’s prediction. He had been right! She would go and see him first.

Wasn’t one supposed to take a present?

She walked along to Patel’s store and bought a large box of chocolates and then set off up the hill to where Angus lived. The day was windy, with great gusts of wind that sent her staggering up the hillside. Seagulls were dotted about the sheep-cropped grass like the work of so many taxidermists, standing still, their tail feathers to the wind. Jenny did not know that this was a sign of worse weather to come.

She ploughed on upwards and arrived panting on the seer’s doorstep. She was raising her hand to knock when Angus opened the door. His eyes gleamed with delight when he saw the large box of chocolates. Angus loved sweets. “Come in, lassie,” he said. “I was expecting you.”

“You were?” Jenny felt a shiver of delighted apprehension.

She walked in, handing him the box of chocolates. Jenny was very fond of chocolates and hoped he would open the box and offer her one, but Angus asked her to be seated and bore the box off to the kitchen.

“Tea?” he asked on his return.

“Nothing for me,” said Jenny. “Did you hear what happened last night at the community hall?”

“Of course.

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