A Bitter Feast(61)

“That happens.” A glance at Joe’s face told Melody it had been said in all seriousness. “But there are worse things,” he added. “Your friend—he seems all right for a— Oh, shit, sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“For a nerd, you mean?” Melody felt comfortable enough now to tease him. When Joe’s mouth relaxed, she wondered what he would look like without the beard. Better, in her opinion. But she supposed shaving and the rustic life didn’t go all that well together. “For a cop, yeah, Doug’s a good guy. Even though he’s a pain in the arse sometimes.”

“Your other friends—they’re cops, too?”

“Yes. Gemma’s my boss.”

Joe sipped his coffee and Melody waited, wondering where he was going with this.

“Did you know who this bloke was, the one in the car crash? Did Viv really work for him?”

“A long time ago, apparently.”

“I didn’t want to put my foot in it, when I talked to her.”

“You’re friends, you and Viv?”

“Well, yeah. We work together all the time, with the produce for the pub. But I had no idea she’d ever worked in that sort of a restaurant, or with somebody famous.”

“I got the impression that no one else knew, either, if that helps.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Did Viv say what the guy was doing here?” Joe rotated his mug with his long fingers.

“Not that I’ve heard.”

Joe nodded, as if she’d given him a positive answer rather than a negative one. Finishing his coffee, he stood. “If you’ll tell your friend I’ll be up in a few minutes, I just need to clean up a bit.”

Realizing she’d been dismissed, Melody finished her coffee and stood, too. “If you’re certain—”

“Yeah. No problem.”

“Well, okay, thanks. See you, then.” Feeling awkward, Melody stepped off the deck, then raised her hand in a little wave as she turned away.

“Melody?”

She turned back.

“You won’t say that I asked about him? O’Reilly? It’s just that I wouldn’t want Viv to think I was . . . putting my nose where it didn’t belong.”

“No. Of course not,” Melody said, but all the way back to the house, she wondered why Joe didn’t want to ask Viv himself.



“Where are we going?” Kit asked, shortening his stride to keep pace with Grace as they walked back through the village.

“I don’t know—you’ll see,” Grace mumbled, keeping her eyes on the dog. Rather than staying on the road towards Beck House, she turned left at the little roundabout across from the mill.

Kit was beginning to regret agreeing to this. He glanced at the girl beside him, her frizzy hair pulled up in a lopsided ponytail, her shoulders hunched, her eyes still on the ground. Her face looked puffy from the crying she’d done yesterday. Maybe she’d been upset enough over the lady dying in the car crash to excuse her being so rude to her mum, but he’d certainly never get away with that.

Grace had released the dog from her heel, and now she ranged out in front of them, sniffing back and forth at the hedgerows and threatening to tangle them in her lead. The lane was barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast. The sun was warm and Kit began to wish he hadn’t worn his hoodie. Bees buzzed in and out of the blackberry brambles and the air smelled ripe and green.

“So, how much obedience training has Bella done?” Kit asked, breaking a silence that felt increasingly awkward. “I did trials with my terrier, Tess. She’s a rescue.”

“It wasn’t official training, like classes or anything,” said Grace. “Just basic stuff. Mark was helping Nell teach her to herd.”

“Mark? Who’s he?”

“Bella was one of Mark’s puppies,” said Grace, as if Kit were dumb for not knowing. “Mark breeds herding collies, really good ones. They win sheep trials and everything. Nell bought Bella from Mark when she moved here. It’s Mark who’s keeping Bella now, until . . .” Grace’s voice quavered. “Until someone decides who she belongs to.”

“Nell didn’t have any family?”

“Some niece who lives in Australia or something.”

Bella was forging ahead, pulling Grace along on the lead now. When Grace gave her the heel command, the dog only pulled harder. Grace started jogging to keep up.

“Do you want me to take her?” said Kit, worried the dog was going to pull Grace down. He was running now, too.

“No, she just—” was all Grace managed as the collie pulled her off the road and through an open gate. Kit saw a thatched cottage, set back from the road.

“Bella, stop!” Grace shouted. With both hands wrapped in the lead, she managed to bring the dog to a stop. The collie panted and whined even as Grace reached down and unclipped her. Bella shot towards the cottage and began barking at the door. “She just wanted to go home,” finished Grace, panting as well, hands on the knees of her ripped jeans.

“This is Nell’s cottage?” Kit wasn’t at all sure this was a good idea. Bella seemed frantic now, running back and forth along the front of the cottage, then bolting round towards the back. Running after her, they found her pawing at the kitchen door.