Aunty Lee's Chilled Revenge by Ovidia Yu Page B

stepmum’s place?’ and I looked and couldn’t believe it, so Mark insisted we rush over right away and find out what’s happening, didn’t you, Mark?”
    Mark smiled at Cherril. “Are you okay, Cherry? You look tired.”
    â€œOh yes. I’m fine. Just a bit tired, thanks.”
    â€œLook, sit down and I’ll get you a coffee.”
    Cherril felt certain it was Selina rather than Mark who had rushed over for news, just as it had probably been Selina who directed any lurid post-service discussion.
    â€œShe works here, why are you offering to get her coffee in her own kitchen? Anyway, tell us what happened! Andwhere’s Aunty Lee? Is she at the police station? What did that woman die of? The newspapers didn’t say. Was she poisoned? Here?”
    â€œShe wasn’t poisoned here.” Cherril’s previous airline training gave her an edge in dealing with difficult people, but she still found Selina Lee a challenge. “She never came anywhere near here.”
    â€œSelina almost had the whole church taking bets on whether the woman was poisoned, stabbed, or pushed out the window,” Mark said genially, “with heavy odds on poisoning.”
    It seemed to Cherril that since Mark had saved Aunty Lee’s life last year he had become much nicer to everyone at the café. He seemed more comfortable in the role of generous benefactor than supplicant—and it suited him better too.
    Selina ignored Mark’s attempt at diversion. “According to the papers you were one of the people the dead woman was coming here to meet. So, tell all!”
    But Cherril didn’t have anything to tell, except that she, Josephine, and Brian had been at the police station answering questions till late.
    â€œIt’s nothing to do with us and the café at all. We just happened to arrange the meeting here—in fact the meeting didn’t even take place here, so really we’re not involved at all.”
    â€œBut you were in the papers, Cherril,” Selina insisted. She looked at Cherril, who had moved to sit by the drinks counter while Mark warmed up a cup for her coffee. True, the café did not officially open for over an hour, but normally Nina would be rushing around and Cherril would be sortingout fruits and vegetables and syrups for her drinks. Instead Cherril was sitting motionless, staring into space.
    Selina continued. “I recognized you at once even though your hair was so funny in the photo. I told Mark there’s a jinx on this place. Everybody who works here gets involved in all kinds of funny business. Luckily he got out in time, ha ha.” But her banter was wasted. Cherril did not seem upset. Indeed she barely seemed to be listening to Selina. Neither, it seemed, was Mark.
    â€œTry my new health cocktail mix?” Mark broke into Cherril’s thoughts. “I think it will do you more good than a coffee. Come on. Just try it. Don’t worry, I made it according to your recipe. I just added a dash of vodka and Tabasco, like a Bloody Mary. And don’t worry about what happened to that woman. Nobody thinks you people had anything to do with it. And I don’t think anybody is really sorry she’s dead.”
    Mark would have made a good nanny, Cherril thought, or a good father. A cool, soothing swallow of the sweet, sharp blend of celery, carrot, and lemongrass made her feel better. Mark’s innovation worked too—she made a note to try introducing mildly alcoholic cocktails at weekend brunch buffets. She was glad she had come in to work instead of staying at home. She was even glad Mark and Silly-Nah had shown up. Thinking of Aunty Lee’s name for Selina made her smile and Mark took this as a good sign.
    â€œYou knew the dead woman years ago, didn’t you? It must have been a shock for you.”
    â€œEven if you weren’t friends,” Selina put in. “Were you? Ifyou didn’t know her then, why