Page 9 of A Curious Ending

With that Abby set about reviewing what Lara had told her about Lady Porter’s overdose.

‘I recall you said the coroner concluded a probable suicide. Do you think that Lady Porter could have administered a fatal dose by mistake?’

‘No,’ Lara said briefly, but firmly. Then after a pause, ‘I know some people said she was old and not always with it, but she really was all there. Just like you and me.’ As an afterthought Lara added, ‘Well me, anyway.’

‘Did anyone else query Lady Porter’s death?’ Abby asked, a trace of a smile in her voice, ‘apart from you.’ She then added, ‘And me.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Lara replied, trying not to grin. ‘I certainly didn’t hear anything. I did raise it with Dr Patil when I bumped into him in the Wentworth Arms one evening. He’d been Lady Porter’s doctor for years. He just said he knew that the family and the coroner were satisfied.’ Lara added, ‘I did get the impression he didn’t want to talk about it, and that maybe I had offended him.’

Abby considered this for a moment. ‘Perhaps not surprising if it called into question his professional judgement. So we have Dr Patil, probably, loyal family practitioner. Then, I presume the family benefited from her death?’ she queried.

‘I should certainly think so,’ Lara replied. ‘She only had one son, Richard. He’s in his early fifties, runs the local solicitors, and you see him everywhere – at most of the events we do flowers for…’

‘Do you like him?’ Abby interrupted.

Lara screwed up her face. ‘I don’t really know him,’ she said. But after some consideration, added, ‘If I had to guess, I’d say he’s a pompous arse. But that doesn’t necessarily make him a murderer.’

‘No, just a pompous arse,’ Abby chuckled.

Lara grinned openly this time. ‘I know he likes to be called The Honourable Richard as often as possible and there is a rumour that he tried to get people to call him Lord Porter when he first came here. But the title isn’t hereditary and someone found out. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Porter put a stop to that herself.’

Abby nodded thoughtfully. ‘Do you know if anyone else benefited from her death?’

‘I couldn’t say,’ Lara answered, beginning to feel daunted, ‘and I wouldn’t really know how to go about finding out.’

Abby felt far from despondent. ‘There is always a way,’ she said with confidence. ‘I believe Lady Porter’s housekeeper would be a good place to start, and I am also intrigued by your doctor. He may be just what he seems, the faithful family practitioner, but I think you ought to talk to him again.’

There was no time to discuss things further, as by now they were back on the edge of the square and Lara was fully occupied looking for somewhere to park.

Chapter 7

Back in the shop, Becky had everything under control. All the empty buckets had been scrubbed and she had made up some posies in dusty pinks and burnt orange which she had displayed in vintage jugs. She was looking flushed from her efforts and blushed even more rosily when Lara told her how much she liked them. Lara then sent Becky out to get herself some lunch and when Becky asked if she wanted anything from the deli, Lara glanced imperceptibly in Abby’s direction and asked her to get some Florentines to go with their coffee – her treat.

Abby returned to her perch on the stool at the back of the shop and sat there admiring the toes of her boots as she digested all she had learnt from Lara during the morning. Her ruminations were cut short by the stream of customers who came and went, and instead of dwelling on Lady Porter she moved forward to watch Lara as she dealt with their numerous and varied requests. It had never occurred to Abby until that point how many things people say with flowers, and she was fascinated to see how Lara guided them in making their choices. She wanted to ask Lara more about this, but just then Becky reappeared and she tactfully withdrew to the back of the shop. As Becky took off her black bag, black jacket and black scarf she placed two coffees down on the counter. ‘My treat,’ she whispered. ‘Sarah at the deli is just finishing off a batch of Florentines and is going to bring them down in a bit.’ Lara smiled but there was no time for more, as a bride-to-be and her formidable mother bustled into the shop and the conversation turned to corsages, buttonholes, and pew-ends.

Later on when Abby looked back on her first day in the flower shop, two people in particular stood out in her mind. The first was Sarah from the deli, who appeared in the shop in the afternoon bearing freshly-baked Florentines as promised. Abby was struck by how Lara’s manner changed. It was as if she had taken a step backwards and even though she was polite, it seemed that she had pulled down a blind between herself and Sarah. Abby decided she rather liked the look of Sarah. She was in her early thirties and had a shock of curly, strawberry blond hair, which she wore tied back from her face with what appeared to be a red and white tea towel knotted above one ear. Abby felt she was well aware of Lara’s reserve but she appeared to take no notice of it, carrying on regardless – as if trying to reach out across the frosty divide. An intelligent young woman, Abby decided, and a person of considerable warmth.

The second customer who stood out to Abby was a florid young man who burst into the shop towards the end of the day. He made a beeline for Lara, completely ignoring Becky who had stepped forward to serve him. As Abby was growing increasingly fond of Lara’s young assistant this was an inauspicious start. The young man then dug himself deeper into her disfavour by haggling with Lara long and hard over the price of the flowers he wanted to buy. He masked this with jokes, pressing home that as old friends she ought to do him a favour. What fascinated Abby was Lara’s response. She greeted this ‘Sebastian’ with a strange mix of embarrassment and half-hearted joviality. Before he had been in the shop for less than a minute she was as red as he was. During the exchange Lara took a series of sideways looks at Abby as if begging her not to say anything. Abby prided herself on being a perceptive ghost so contented herself with standing next to Becky and looked with obvious admiration at the table arrangement that she was making. It amused her that Becky discreetly threw her eyes up to heaven when Sebastian air-kissed Lara goodbye. Eventually Lara sent Sebastian on his way with a discounted plant for his office. As he also needed something to put on the supper table just for one evening, Lara wrapped up a dozen stems of flowers that were from last week’s order, telling him that he might have them for free as they would only last a day or so.

Before the door closed behind him Lara heard Abby’s by now familiar voice ringing out clearly, ‘I can see that he is the type of man who pinches housemaids and tries to kiss them under the stairs.’

The working day drew to a close and as Lara started to slow down and think about packing up she realised just how tired she was. More than anything she wanted five minutes to sit down and collect her thoughts. Lara decided she did not even have the energy to start bringing in all the flowers from the street. So without attempting to move them, she put the closed sign on the door, sent Becky home and sat down on the stool next to Abby. Abby seemed to sense her need for quiet, so for once she did not say anything. Lara nibbled absent-mindedly on the last remaining Florentine and then put her head on the workbench and stayed there half slumped, her head in a pile of leaves and cut stems.

From under the foliage Abby heard her say, ‘How do you know he would pinch housemaids?’

‘Years of experience,’ Abby replied, trying not to laugh. ‘Are you going to tell me who he is?’ she asked.

‘Sebastian is one of Julian’s oldest friends. When I see him I think he must know exactly how I feel… felt about Julian. I know I shouldn’t talk about Julian, but all I want to do is ask him if he’s seen him and if he knows what’s going on. And the urge to say this is almost unbearable,’ Lara said, still lying in the greenery.

‘But you did not say these things, Lara,’ Abby replied. ‘And as for appreciating your thoughts, I would not rate his intelligence above average… if that,’ she mused.

‘Then why do I feel so exposed when I see Julian’s friends? It’s like one of those dreams where you find yourself naked in the freezer section of Tesco.’ Lara sat up and ran a hand through her fast disintegrating plait.

‘I used to dream I was walking down St James’s Street wearing only a bonnet,’ Abby said sympathetically. ‘Although I have to say I used to rather enjoy that dream.’

‘Oh, Abby,’ said Lara laughing, ‘what am I going to do?’

‘You are going to tidy up here and then you are going to go and have a nice hot bath,’ said Abby with the air of one who has known her fair share of nannies and nursemaids.