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Authors: Rebecca Tope
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dormant or too unfamiliar to put names to. It was original and entirely delightful, making Thea smile.
She had left her mobile behind, carrying nothing but the house key in a pocket. Wispy aromas of Sunday roasts and woodsmoke made her dreamy, drifting back in time, conscious that the same smells would have persisted in this place for countless centuries. The enveloping sense of history was one of the main attractions of the Cotswolds. Everywhere you looked there were ancient stones and earthworks that betrayed the millennia of human activity. The herb gardenreminded her that this too was a time-honoured practice. Despite the comfortable affluence of the villagers, they still burnt wood and put lavender in their drawers. They surely maintained some sort of feeling for the particular elements of the past that had created this extraordinary region.
At least I’m not spending any money, she thought to herself, as she turned back to Galanthus House. Mooching around the country lanes with the dog was a gratifyingly cheap way to pass the time and, weather permitting, would amply fill the coming days, without any need to engage with activists, dead or alive.
She automatically checked her phone when she got back. It had been a sporadic progression from never even thinking about the thing to a pitiful reliance on it to maintain contact with Drew. Other people used it to call or text her, but not on the same regular basis. It had some abilities that she had come to value, such as access to websites and use as a camera, but she had not yet dived into the world of apps or games. She suspected she was just too old to feel comfortable letting her whole life be controlled by a small electronic gadget. As for Facebook, she still utterly failed to see the slightest appeal to it.
There was a text message.
HI, MA. WHERE ARE YOU? I’VE GOT A DAY OFF THIS WEEK. CAN I VISIT, TUES? JESS. XX
It had happened before, of course. Not just Jessica, but both her sisters and her mother had joined her on various house-sitting commissions, to a mixed reception. The company was welcome, but the complications that came with it much less so. Her relatives tended to show up with the aim of pouring out their latest troubles. They saw her duties regarding the houses as minimal and unimportant. As far as they were concerned, she was having yet another little holiday, all expenses paid, and they may as well share in the bounty.
Without further deliberation, she called her daughter back. ‘I’m in the Cotswolds again,’ she said, after brief preambles. ‘It’s all beautifully springlike and peaceful.’
‘So can I come?’
‘Of course you can. It’ll be lovely to see you. We can investigate one of the pubs.’
‘No murders, then?’ Jessica teased. Murders did happen a lot when Thea was around.
‘No. Some chap fell into a quarry, apparently. That’s all.’
‘Fell? Are you sure he wasn’t pushed?’
‘I know nothing about it. I’ve met a few people who knew him, that’s all.’
‘Right. So Tuesday, then? Tell me where you are. I want to talk to you.’
‘You’re talking to me now.’ It was a shameful evasion, which she knew even as the words left herlips, but she was in no mood to provide counselling for a young policewoman, even if she was her daughter.
‘Come on, Ma. Don’t be like that.’
‘Don’t call me Ma,’ said Thea automatically. It was a recent development that she very much disliked.
‘I’ve got a dilemma and I want your advice. That’s what you’re for, remember? Most mothers never stop giving advice. Why do you have to be different?’
Most mothers
jogged Thea’s memory. ‘Did you hear about your Aunt Judy?’
‘What? What about her?’
‘She’s pregnant. You’ll have a new cousin.’ Every time she thought of it, it seemed more ludicrous.
‘Wow! How did that happen?’
‘I’m sure they’ll be happy to explain it to you, if you ask them. I had to stop him before he talked me through
She had left her mobile behind, carrying nothing but the house key in a pocket. Wispy aromas of Sunday roasts and woodsmoke made her dreamy, drifting back in time, conscious that the same smells would have persisted in this place for countless centuries. The enveloping sense of history was one of the main attractions of the Cotswolds. Everywhere you looked there were ancient stones and earthworks that betrayed the millennia of human activity. The herb gardenreminded her that this too was a time-honoured practice. Despite the comfortable affluence of the villagers, they still burnt wood and put lavender in their drawers. They surely maintained some sort of feeling for the particular elements of the past that had created this extraordinary region.
At least I’m not spending any money, she thought to herself, as she turned back to Galanthus House. Mooching around the country lanes with the dog was a gratifyingly cheap way to pass the time and, weather permitting, would amply fill the coming days, without any need to engage with activists, dead or alive.
She automatically checked her phone when she got back. It had been a sporadic progression from never even thinking about the thing to a pitiful reliance on it to maintain contact with Drew. Other people used it to call or text her, but not on the same regular basis. It had some abilities that she had come to value, such as access to websites and use as a camera, but she had not yet dived into the world of apps or games. She suspected she was just too old to feel comfortable letting her whole life be controlled by a small electronic gadget. As for Facebook, she still utterly failed to see the slightest appeal to it.
There was a text message.
HI, MA. WHERE ARE YOU? I’VE GOT A DAY OFF THIS WEEK. CAN I VISIT, TUES? JESS. XX
It had happened before, of course. Not just Jessica, but both her sisters and her mother had joined her on various house-sitting commissions, to a mixed reception. The company was welcome, but the complications that came with it much less so. Her relatives tended to show up with the aim of pouring out their latest troubles. They saw her duties regarding the houses as minimal and unimportant. As far as they were concerned, she was having yet another little holiday, all expenses paid, and they may as well share in the bounty.
Without further deliberation, she called her daughter back. ‘I’m in the Cotswolds again,’ she said, after brief preambles. ‘It’s all beautifully springlike and peaceful.’
‘So can I come?’
‘Of course you can. It’ll be lovely to see you. We can investigate one of the pubs.’
‘No murders, then?’ Jessica teased. Murders did happen a lot when Thea was around.
‘No. Some chap fell into a quarry, apparently. That’s all.’
‘Fell? Are you sure he wasn’t pushed?’
‘I know nothing about it. I’ve met a few people who knew him, that’s all.’
‘Right. So Tuesday, then? Tell me where you are. I want to talk to you.’
‘You’re talking to me now.’ It was a shameful evasion, which she knew even as the words left herlips, but she was in no mood to provide counselling for a young policewoman, even if she was her daughter.
‘Come on, Ma. Don’t be like that.’
‘Don’t call me Ma,’ said Thea automatically. It was a recent development that she very much disliked.
‘I’ve got a dilemma and I want your advice. That’s what you’re for, remember? Most mothers never stop giving advice. Why do you have to be different?’
Most mothers
jogged Thea’s memory. ‘Did you hear about your Aunt Judy?’
‘What? What about her?’
‘She’s pregnant. You’ll have a new cousin.’ Every time she thought of it, it seemed more ludicrous.
‘Wow! How did that happen?’
‘I’m sure they’ll be happy to explain it to you, if you ask them. I had to stop him before he talked me through
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