A Cotswold Christmas Mystery

up till nearly midnight, I’ll have you know. I didn’t open my eyes until half past eight.’
‘Oh, well – none of my business, I guess. Where did they stay the night?’
‘Holiday Inn. Forty-five pounds. All perfectly easy, apparently.’
‘Is Timmy okay?’ asked Stephanie.
‘Presumably,’ Thea told her. ‘He’s probably having a brilliant time. Now who’s going to walk the dog?’
Jessica and Stephanie took Hepzie out into the chilly morning, where everything was very quiet and still. A dove cooed somewhere and a plane hummed high in the sky, but there was no sound of human activity. ‘Gosh, this place is weird,’ said Jessica, not for the first time. ‘Where are all the people?’
‘Don’t know,’ said Stephanie vaguely. ‘Which way shall we go?’
‘The field, I suppose. She can run free there.’
‘She can run free anywhere. She’s very sensible.’
They turned right at the front gate and followed the narrow lane to the point where it simply stopped at the edge of a field. A characterful old house marked the final navigable point, with a sturdy Land Rover Discovery parked outside to prove it. The field had been shaved late in the year, the grass now thin and patchy with outcrops of small stones all across it. ‘They made hay here in the summer,’ said Stephanie. ‘We watched them cutting it.’
‘Probably due to be ploughed soon,’ said Jessica, uncertainly. ‘I used to know all this stuff, but I’ve forgotten most of it. My dad used to take me for long walks, showing me all the plants and different sorts of corn. His grandfather was a farmer, about a hundred years ago.’
‘Your dad died, didn’t he?’
‘Right. You knew that already. Five years ago now, or nearly. Seems ages. He was a really nice man.’
‘Like my dad, then.’
‘A bit like him, yes. My mother seems to have a taste for a particular kind of man. She likes the quiet type, no rages or sudden passions. Steady, I suppose. Reliable. Not especially adventurous.’
The word boring hovered in Stephanie’s acute mental ear. ‘Thea’s very adventurous,’ she said, echoing the previous evening’s conversation. ‘She likes it when things get exciting.’
‘It takes all sorts,’ said Jessica carefully. ‘Didn’t we say all this last night?’
That felt like a put-down to Stephanie. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘Not all of it.’
‘We’d never manage all of it. There’s a quote – something about containing multitudes. A poem, I think. It’s true, though. One single person is fantastically complicated. And we never properly understand each other.’ She sighed. ‘And that makes life very difficult a lot of the time.’
‘Yes,’ said Stephanie warily. ‘I don’t think Daddy understands Thea very well, sometimes.’
‘I expect they’re fine, really. They’re a good fit. They seem to know what they’re doing. Not like me. I’ve been pathetic in my choice of men.’ She gave Stephanie’s hand a little shake. ‘But you don’t want to hear about my problems. I’m hoping I’ll know better another time.’
‘Boyfriend trouble,’ said Stephanie, hoping she sounded understanding and sympathetic, while aware that they were on dangerous ground.
‘Not any more,’ said Jessica. ‘All that’s behind me now.’
The spaniel was running aimlessly around the edge of the field, pausing to sniff at the wintry undergrowth, her plumy tail slowly wagging. Jessica watched her with a nostalgic little smile. ‘I remember when Mum first got her,’ she said. ‘She said it was a substitute for me, because I was doing my A-levels and would be leaving for college before long. My dad suggested a spaniel because he had one when he was young. He said they were the easiest of all dogs, because they didn’t have any vices.’
‘He was right. I wish she could have some puppies, though. I think puppies are brilliant.’
‘I imagine they’d be a lot of work. And it must be sad when they all go. Besides, wouldn’t you worry about them – wondering if the new people were being kind to them?’
Stephanie gave this some thought. ‘People are usually quite kind to their dogs,’ she concluded. ‘I think it’d be all right.’
‘Ah – such a trusting little soul,’ said Jessica with all the wisdom of a newly promoted police sergeant. ‘You should see some of the things I’ve seen. Except – no, you shouldn’t. Not until you’re at least twenty-one.’
They ambled after the dog, not saying very much more. Stephanie had a sense of holding in the delicious awareness that it was the day before Christmas. It was like having a lovely secret, or knowing something that everyone else had forgotten. The very air shimmered with it. She couldn’t remember spending so much time with Jessica before, having her all to herself. If Timmy was allowed to meet their mysterious grandmother, then she was going to find out all she could about their stepsister. It would keep things in balance.
They had walked around two sides of the big field, and were a quarter of the way along the third before Stephanie found the courage to ask, ‘So you haven’t got a boyfriend now?’
‘Didn’t I just tell you I haven’t?’ The tone was a lot less friendly than it had been three minutes before. ‘Has my mother been saying something about that?’
‘No, not at all. You … I mean, just now …’
‘Oh God, I’m sorry. It’s all right, Steph. I didn’t mean to snap. You touched a raw nerve, that’s all. I had some trouble, back in the summer. It’s all sorted now, no harm done. Nothing for you to worry about.’
Every word of which served to heighten Stephanie’s curiosity. ‘Tell me,’ she pleaded.
‘I can’t. You’re too young. You wouldn’t understand.’
‘I’m nearly twelve. That’s old enough.’
‘You’re still only eleven. Your father would kill me if I started talking about the sort of stuff that can happen when you’re daft enough to fall for the wrong man. Especially at Christmas. Ask me again when you’re about eighteen, and I promise I’ll fill you in on all the gory details. It’ll be a warning to you. I intend to do everything I can to stop you getting as