unappealing.
‘I’m nobody important,’ said Moxon. ‘And I’m just going. I’d better look into the farm woman,’ he said, addressing Melanie more than Simmy. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’ And he went.
‘Why are you being visited by a policeman?’ Kathy asked, seconds later.
‘What makes you think that’s what he is?’
‘Shoes. Hair. Notebook. What he said, and the way he said it. It was obvious.’
Simmy gave her friend a belated hug. ‘It’s so good to see you. You haven’t changed a single hair. Did you drive up? Are you hungry? We usually pop out for a sandwich and work right through.’
‘Carry on, then. Don’t mind me. If you want me out of the way, I can walk down to the lake or something. It’s very atmospheric out there.’ They all looked out onto the damp street, and Simmy thought of her misty morning drive. It was true that the view across the lake from Bowness would be lovely, because it always was.
‘It’s up to you,’ she said. ‘We’re over the worst now, so long as we don’t get a lot of last-minute orders.’
Kathy’s blank look quickly cleared. ‘Valentine’s!’ she realised. ‘Of course! What a fool. I never made the connection.’
‘Plus some other stuff,’ Melanie said. ‘We’ve had a few very unromantic messages this week.’
‘Hence the policeman,’ said Kathy astutely.
‘Blimey!’ said Simmy. ‘Ben’s going to have to watch out, with you here. He’s been the unchallenged Top Brain up to now.’
‘Ben?’
‘Oh – just a boy we know,’ said Melanie. ‘You probably won’t even meet him.’
Five minutes later, her words were proved wrong when Ben swung into the shop, with his usual air of coming to a place where he knew he’d be welcome. ‘Uh-oh,’ said Melanie.
Kathy was in the middle of a quick tour of inspection of the shop, during which she had greatly admired Ninian’s remaining pots and expressed an intention of buying one. She looked up at the pinging doorbell, and glanced at Simmy.
‘Ben,’ said Simmy. ‘He has a habit of turning up in the lunch hour. He’s in the sixth form. This is my friend Kathy,’ she told the boy.
‘Greetings, Kathy,’ he said carelessly.
‘She’s clever,’ Melanie warned him. ‘You’d better watch out.’
Ben gave the newcomer a closer look. ‘I like clever people,’ he said. ‘You don’t live round here, do you?’
‘Worcester. I knew Simmy before she moved here.’
He nodded vaguely, as if Simmy’s life before Windermere was entirely irrelevant. ‘What news of the phantom flower-sender?’ he asked.
‘Mr Hayter topped himself,’ Melanie burst out eagerly. ‘Moxo was just here, to tell us.’
‘Driven to it by a cruel joke,’ he said, with a careful look at Simmy. ‘Bummer.’
‘We don’t know that at all. It probably had nothing at all to do with the flowers. Don’t put this onto me.’
‘No, but – why else would Moxo keep coming here about it? And what happened with the Hawkshead person? Did you take those flowers?’ He unslung the rucksack from his shoulder and extracted a plastic box containing his lunch. ‘I’ll eat while you tell me.’ He eyed Kathy in a clear question as to whether she was staying.
‘I was going to take myself down to the lake, but this sounds too fascinating to miss. You three are a real gang of amateur sleuths, aren’t you? I did know there was something horrible at Christmas when Simmy got hurt, but she never told me any details.’
Simmy was still trying to adjust to the sudden appearance of her old friend in a new context. The Kathy she remembered had been a good listener, always ready with a witty joke, more or less contented with her life, despite a tendency to boss people about. She held similar views to those of Simmy’s mother when it came to taking charge of events and refusing to accept foolish rules and regulations. ‘We make our own destiny,’ she would often say. When Simmy’s baby died and her husband let her
‘I’m nobody important,’ said Moxon. ‘And I’m just going. I’d better look into the farm woman,’ he said, addressing Melanie more than Simmy. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’ And he went.
‘Why are you being visited by a policeman?’ Kathy asked, seconds later.
‘What makes you think that’s what he is?’
‘Shoes. Hair. Notebook. What he said, and the way he said it. It was obvious.’
Simmy gave her friend a belated hug. ‘It’s so good to see you. You haven’t changed a single hair. Did you drive up? Are you hungry? We usually pop out for a sandwich and work right through.’
‘Carry on, then. Don’t mind me. If you want me out of the way, I can walk down to the lake or something. It’s very atmospheric out there.’ They all looked out onto the damp street, and Simmy thought of her misty morning drive. It was true that the view across the lake from Bowness would be lovely, because it always was.
‘It’s up to you,’ she said. ‘We’re over the worst now, so long as we don’t get a lot of last-minute orders.’
Kathy’s blank look quickly cleared. ‘Valentine’s!’ she realised. ‘Of course! What a fool. I never made the connection.’
‘Plus some other stuff,’ Melanie said. ‘We’ve had a few very unromantic messages this week.’
‘Hence the policeman,’ said Kathy astutely.
‘Blimey!’ said Simmy. ‘Ben’s going to have to watch out, with you here. He’s been the unchallenged Top Brain up to now.’
‘Ben?’
‘Oh – just a boy we know,’ said Melanie. ‘You probably won’t even meet him.’
Five minutes later, her words were proved wrong when Ben swung into the shop, with his usual air of coming to a place where he knew he’d be welcome. ‘Uh-oh,’ said Melanie.
Kathy was in the middle of a quick tour of inspection of the shop, during which she had greatly admired Ninian’s remaining pots and expressed an intention of buying one. She looked up at the pinging doorbell, and glanced at Simmy.
‘Ben,’ said Simmy. ‘He has a habit of turning up in the lunch hour. He’s in the sixth form. This is my friend Kathy,’ she told the boy.
‘Greetings, Kathy,’ he said carelessly.
‘She’s clever,’ Melanie warned him. ‘You’d better watch out.’
Ben gave the newcomer a closer look. ‘I like clever people,’ he said. ‘You don’t live round here, do you?’
‘Worcester. I knew Simmy before she moved here.’
He nodded vaguely, as if Simmy’s life before Windermere was entirely irrelevant. ‘What news of the phantom flower-sender?’ he asked.
‘Mr Hayter topped himself,’ Melanie burst out eagerly. ‘Moxo was just here, to tell us.’
‘Driven to it by a cruel joke,’ he said, with a careful look at Simmy. ‘Bummer.’
‘We don’t know that at all. It probably had nothing at all to do with the flowers. Don’t put this onto me.’
‘No, but – why else would Moxo keep coming here about it? And what happened with the Hawkshead person? Did you take those flowers?’ He unslung the rucksack from his shoulder and extracted a plastic box containing his lunch. ‘I’ll eat while you tell me.’ He eyed Kathy in a clear question as to whether she was staying.
‘I was going to take myself down to the lake, but this sounds too fascinating to miss. You three are a real gang of amateur sleuths, aren’t you? I did know there was something horrible at Christmas when Simmy got hurt, but she never told me any details.’
Simmy was still trying to adjust to the sudden appearance of her old friend in a new context. The Kathy she remembered had been a good listener, always ready with a witty joke, more or less contented with her life, despite a tendency to boss people about. She held similar views to those of Simmy’s mother when it came to taking charge of events and refusing to accept foolish rules and regulations. ‘We make our own destiny,’ she would often say. When Simmy’s baby died and her husband let her
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