Mistletoe and Murder by Carola Dunn

much of it the kind of stuff which would make for a marvellously lively piece.
    By an hour after lunch on Sunday, she had her outline prepared and was ready to call it a day. The afternoon was overcast, but still mild, with no sign of impending rain. She decided to walk down to the Quay to meet Alec, Belinda,
and the Dowager Lady Dalrymple. She couldn’t tell exactly when the boat would arrive, but she knew the early Paddington-Plymouth express ran an hour later on Sundays.
    In the entrance hall, she met Felicity and Miles, bound on the same errand to welcome the newcomers, and they found themselves following the pony-trap down the drive.
    â€œWe didn’t like to tell you at lunch,” said Felicity, “because the Rev was there, but you missed his service this morning. Gran invited him to preside in the Chapel, and Uncle Vic herded us all in willy-nilly, servants too.”
    â€œHow very remiss of me,” Daisy said, “though I plead that I didn’t know about it. No one herded me. But perhaps my lack of piety will make Mr. Calloway look more kindly on the rest of you.”
    â€œNot a hope,” Miles scoffed. “He took one look at Flick’s lip rouge and gave us a sermon on vanity.”
    â€œYou’ve got the wrong kind of vanity,” his sister argued. “‘Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,’ that’s about the unimportance of worldly things.”
    â€œMy word, you must have been listening!”
    â€œAnd you weren’t,” Felicity retorted.
    They went on teasing in a brotherly-sisterly way. Daisy thought how much she missed Gervaise, who had not returned from the trenches of Flanders, where she assumed Miles had left his arm. The loss of her brother still hurt, though she had to admit she didn’t think of him as often these days, nor of her dead fiancé. Michael held a corner of her heart forever, but Alec filled the rest, Alec and Belinda, and she was going to see them any minute. She hastened her steps.
    When they came in sight of the Quay, a motor launch
was already moored at one of the wharves. The trap and a farm wagon stood nearby, with pony and cart-horse waiting patiently. On the Quay, a pile of luggage was growing, handed up from the launch by the boatman to the hands of two farm labourers. Alec was already ashore, directing the operation. The heap of bags concealed the passengers still aboard.
    Looking down into the boat, Alec said in his firmest voice, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, old fellow. If you don’t both land in the water, you’ll land in the mud.”
    Old fellow? The only thing less likely than that he should so address his daughter was that he should so address his mother-in-law. Whom had they brought with them?
    Alec reached down and helped Belinda up onto the wharf. She saw Daisy at once and came running, pigtails flying.
    â€œMummy, Mummy!” She flung herself into Daisy’s open arms. “Mummy, Derek’s come too! He rang up and said couldn’t we invite him without telling Aunt Violet or Uncle John he’d asked, so Daddy rang back right away and I talked on the ’phone to Aunt Violet and told her I’d be frightfully sad if Derek couldn’t come and she said yes!”
    Before she finished, Derek had disembarked and was tearing along after her, hauled at top speed by Nana, the breeze ruffling his blond hair.
    â€œNana!” Daisy exclaimed.
    â€œHello, Aunt Daisy,” called Derek. “Did Bel tell you about me coming?”
    Fending off the puppy, Daisy listened with half an ear to her nephew’s rhapsodies on their journey up the Tamar. Meanwhile Belinda had turned to Felicity and Miles.

    â€œHello, I’m Belinda Fletcher,” she said. “I’m most awfully sorry about bringing Nana. My friend she was going to stay with couldn’t have her, right at the last minute. Daddy says she’ll have to stay tied up outside.” Doubtfully she