A Cotswold Christmas Mystery

a real effort to play the part of a devoted wife and mother, determined to create the perfect Christmas for her family. She was being noticeably more present, compared to usual. Having Jessica there was a big help, too. On the face of it, Thea had nothing and nobody beyond their four walls to worry about. Even the imminent visit by Damien and his family was keeping her focused on the house, and all the tasks required to feed and accommodate the extra people. Stephanie welcomed the effort her stepmother was making, and hoped her father was equally appreciative. Of course, now it was him who was spoiling it, rushing off to see a mother he had barely mentioned or considered for the past ten years.
But Jessica was still the real centre of attention. ‘I have got a few more things that I can show you now,’ she said, and went to her half-emptied box. A moment later, she flourished a gold-coloured tin labelled Fortnum and Mason spiced Christmas tea and proposed that they try some there and then, having almost finished lunch. ‘Even the kids might like it,’ she said.
Nobody objected, and the only teapot in the house was commandeered. Even a tea strainer was located at the back of a drawer. Jessica ritualistically infused the tea leaves, to Stephanie’s great fascination. She lowered her face over the steam and inhaled ecstatically. ‘It smells heavenly,’ she said. ‘Like a magic land where they eat nothing but Christmas food all year round. Oranges and chestnuts and even a whiff of chocolate.’
‘Steady on!’ laughed Jessica. ‘You’ll be dreadfully disappointed when you taste it at this rate.’
But everyone sipped it, as if at a solemn ceremony involving Mongolians or American Indians, and judged it at least … interesting, and at best delicious. ‘Where did you get it?’ asked Thea.
‘It was my present from Secret Santa at work. Lucky me, eh?’
The merry atmosphere continued for the next half-hour, giving Stephanie a swelling optimism for the entire coming week. So many good things were going to happen once Dad and Tim came back again from their trip, all combining to make her feel infinitely light and warm inside. Boxing Day would be spent playing with her presents – whatever they turned out to be. Uncle Damien and his family would create great additional diversion, as well. And after that there was still ages before they had to go back to school. She squashed next to Timmy on the sofa, where he was doing one last calculation of the minutes before having to get ready for the drive northwards, and gave him an excited little punch. ‘Not long now!’ she whispered.
He gave a cheery smile, which further improved Stephanie’s day.
But then there were coats and an overnight bag, and the dog casting anxious looks at the obvious signs of departure. Stephanie was suddenly filled with anxiety. What if they had a crash, or the car broke down, or Drew decided he had to stay with his mother all over Christmas? ‘You will come back tomorrow, won’t you?’ she said, her voice wobbling.
He gazed at her blankly. ‘What? Of course we will. Why should you doubt it?’
‘I don’t know. No reason, really. Just …’
‘Things happen,’ said Jessica understandingly. ‘You should realise that by now, Drew. Nobody in this family is ever going to take anything for granted, are they?’
‘What’s this heavy talk?’ Thea demanded. ‘Trying to jinx it, or what?’
‘Only Steph having a moment,’ said Jessica, putting her arm around the girl’s shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, pet. They’ll be back in no time. The weather’s good, look. No rain or ice. And think of the story Tim’s going to be telling us when he comes home.’
Timmy himself was looking doubtful, as if he was seeing himself as a brave hero venturing into a dangerous unknown realm without adequate preparation. ‘Will I?’ he faltered. ‘I’m not very good at stories.’
‘An experience,’ Jessica clarified. ‘You’re going to have an experience. That’s always a good thing.’
‘I’ll go instead, if you don’t want to,’ Stephanie offered, well aware that this was not a realistic option. Drew had already decided which child he was taking.
‘Enough talk,’ said Drew loudly. ‘We’re off.’ And after a brief exchange of kisses, they were gone.
It was less than half an hour later that Ant Frowse made his phone call to Thea. He had gone outside to do it, not wanting his father to hear him. ‘Are you busy?’ he asked his friend. ‘Have you got time to talk?’
‘Loads of time,’ she assured him. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘It’s going to sound silly, but my mother’s gone missing,’ he began. ‘And so has some precious trinket belonging to old Blackwood.’
‘Oh – we heard about that. He was making a fuss at the post office about it. I should think the whole of Chipping Campden knows about it by now. They think Beverley took it, do they?’
‘No, not exactly. Nobody knows she’s gone off. There’s not really any connection. I think.’
‘Start at the beginning,’ she told him.
So he did, leaving nothing out. He described the episode in town that morning, with the Russian sisters making veiled threats and the visit from the police a little while later. ‘Dad did his usual injured peasant act, running rings round them, so they didn’t know what to say.’
‘Did you tell them it was just Carla doing her usual harassment?’
‘Actually, no. We might have missed a chance there.’
‘Beverley would probably say so.’
‘We mostly leave all that up to her. She’s taught herself the legal stuff and knows exactly what to say to them.’ He made a small sound of frustration. ‘But where is she? Somewhere beginning with “Win”, apparently. I’m going mad trying to figure it all out – and Dad’s not helping at all. He says he’s got no idea where she is, but he doesn’t seem a bit worried. What if she doesn’t come back for Christmas?’ he wailed, like a much younger person.
‘Cook the turkey yourself,’ she said unfeelingly. ‘It’s not