Murder at The Mill : Introducing Amy Rowlings by T.A. Belshaw

Author:T.A. Belshaw [Belshaw, T.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spellbound Books
Published: 2022-07-07T06:00:00+00:00

Bodkin tossed the canister into the air and caught it again before holding it up in front of his eyes.

‘I wonder what secrets this little box holds,’ he said.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

After church on Sunday, Amy got changed and walked down to the farm. Alice and Bodkin were in the kitchen sitting at the enormous, oak table. She could hear Miriam singing a lullaby in the parlour, trying to coax Martha to sleep. Bodkin looked up from his newspaper and smiled as Amy walked in.

‘Good morning, Amy. What’s the weather doing?’

‘The same as it was doing yesterday, attempting to out-freeze the Arctic.’

Amy sat down and nodded as Alice offered to pour her a cup of tea. ‘Reverend Villiers was full of himself this morning,’ she said.

Alice pushed a full mug of tea towards her. ‘You’ll be ready for that, then.’ Reverend Villiers was noted for his never-ending sermons. ‘What was he beefing about today?’

‘Oh, the usual. The demon drink, adultery, the fires of hell. The tight-fisted congregation.’

‘He’d know all about the demon drink,’ said Alice.

‘Indeed, he would, I’ve seen him in the vicarage garden waving a bottle around, abusing the moon, God, the deceased, anyone that annoyed him that day.’

Bodkin lowered his copy of the News of the World. ‘I was told that he was found, fast asleep, bent over the vicarage gate wearing nothing but his underpants, one summer’s evening. Burridge was sent round to get him back indoors. I’m glad I wasn’t around to witness it.’

Amy and Alice looked at each other and pulled an identical face. ‘Perish the thought,’ said Alice, who had, on one occasion, seen the vicar dancing around the gravestones with an imaginary partner.

Amy took a sip of tea and pushed it back across to Alice. ‘Stewed,’ she said.

‘You’re too picky, that’s your problem,’ said Alice. She emptied the pot into the sink and set about making another brew.

Amy put her hand over the top of Bodkin’s paper and flattened it down. He looked over it and smiled at her. ‘Is that a hint that my opinion is sought?’ He sipped his tea and pulled a face. ‘Cold,’ he said.

‘It’s nothing to do with the tea, you silly man,’ said Amy. ‘I want to know what we’re going to do with the film we found.’

‘I telephoned Mr Jenkinson at his shop this morning but no one answered, so I’m going to have a run out, to see if he’s in the flat a little later on. He might not have a phone line upstairs, but he may have been out this morning, covering a Christening or something.’

‘Well, he wasn’t at our church, there are no Christenings today. People tend to have them after Easter, when the weather’s better.’ She took a fresh mug of tea from Alice. ‘Would you like some company when you go, just in case you have to wait? The time will pass more quickly if you have someone to talk to.’

‘That sounds like a plan,’ said Bodkin, accepting a fresh cup himself. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t ask how I got on with Adam Smethwick yesterday.

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