The Morecambe Bay Trilogy by Paul J. Teague

Author:Paul J. Teague [Teague, Paul J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Clixeo Publishing
Published: 2020-02-02T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Charlotte knew Will would accuse her of over-reacting; it was a good reason for moving the furniture around before he got home. She hadn’t a clue where Lucia was, Olli had gone into town with his girlfriend, and Will had taken the bus to the university to have a look around, prior to his interview there. The guests wouldn’t trouble her for another hour or so, and Isla wasn’t due in for some time, so it was the ideal opportunity to re-stage the photograph in the dining room.

She placed the copy of the image that Jon Rogers had made for her onto the small, wooden bar top. It was time to do some rearranging of the furniture, moving the chairs to the edges of the room, and shuffling the tables to the sides, taking care not to disrupt the table settings for the evening meals.

Once the room was cleared, she went through the hallway and into the ground floor cupboard under the stairs. After moving some old boxes and cleaning items, she succeeded in manoeuvring the old circular gate-leg table into the hallway. It was too heavy to lift, so she dragged it, cringing at the noise.

Hot and sweating, she finally succeeded in pushing the heavy, dark wood table into place. She pulled up the rounded edges of the table, placing them on their supports, then moved some chairs to where the men had been sitting. It was the same table, as far as she could tell. The B&B had been sold to them with its fixtures and fittings intact. It was part of the attraction, and although they’d changed the table cloths, upholstery, decoration and tableware, they’d left much of the furniture intact.

Checking that nobody was around, Charlotte placed five cushions where the men had been sitting, with post-it notes attached, on which she’d written their names. She then moved the dining room hat stand into the position where the photographer must have been standing. She reckoned even DCI Summers would have been proud of her reconstruction efforts. It was a feat almost worthy of Crimewatch.

Charlotte picked up the copy of the original photograph from the bar and held it up, making sure everything was in place. It was as close a re-creation as she could have managed, without stripping the wallpaper and tearing down the curtains at either side of the window to change them for the ugly creations that had sat there in 2006. She pulled out her phone and took photographs from different angles. Then she remembered the second photograph that Harvey Turnbull’s wife had given them. She had a copy of it upstairs in the family quarters. It was taken from a slightly different angle. She wanted to compare that one too and see if she’d missed any of the details.

She ran up the stairs, stopping on the second landing to catch her breath. Events that week had made her realise how out of condition she was getting. She would need to join a gym.

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