Murder in Abbot's Folly Read Free Page A

sort of situations that Jane Austen’s novels depended on, in which private emotions were frustrated by social demands. At worst the day might bring forth far more than frustration. Stourdens was not only a place where Jane Austen had seemingly suffered great unhappiness, but also one where twenty-five years ago the owner had been murdered.
    Neither of these factors should cast its shadow over the Stourdens of today, and yet not wanting to back away from meeting Elena again was the only reason that she had not pleaded an earlier engagement for Saturday. Stupid, Georgia told herself, because the murder of Robert Luckhurst was a case that had been solved, and the killer was probably free by now. Still proclaiming his innocence? She couldn’t help wondering.
    Going home to Medlars brought its usual comfort. Georgia felt a lift of the heart when she pushed open the heavy wooden door into the old house, a door that almost seemed to be welcoming her home with a ‘Cheer up, I’ve seen many problems far worse than this’. She could hear Luke in the kitchen, probably already cooking supper, so she dropped her shoulder bag and hurried to join him. A wave of pleasure swept over her as she hugged him – which seriously impeded his risotto and resulted in a cascade of rice grains landing on the floor. After dealing with this emergency, he listened patiently to her account of her evening before speaking.
    â€˜I can’t wait to see you in bonnet, bulging panniers and white muslin dress. Got any old pillow cases you can wear?’
    â€˜I’ll find something,’ Georgia said hollowly. ‘Anyway, don’t laugh. You’re coming with me. They all want to meet the famous publisher.’
    He groaned. ‘Famous publisher not want to meet them. Count me out. I hate costume events.’
    â€˜I need support, Luke,’ she pleaded. ‘Elena will be there.’
    He pulled a face. ‘Point reluctantly ceded. What’s her game?’
    â€˜I don’t know, but there’s a hidden agenda somewhere. All my antennae are waving.’
    â€˜She is your mother,’ he said gently. ‘Suppose she wants to return to England?’
    Trust Luke to put into words her secret fear. ‘That’s a scary thought.’ And that was putting it lightly.
    â€˜Because she might interfere with Marsh & Daughter’s work?’
    She considered this. ‘Perhaps,’ she admitted, ‘but it’s more than that. I can’t forget the way she walked out because she didn’t want the responsibility of looking after Peter.’
    â€˜Perhaps she can’t either, but you should all be able to move on now that Rick’s disappearance has been solved. That’s no longer lying between you.’
    Rick had disappeared on a walking holiday in France, and for fourteen years there had been no clues as to what had happened to him. Then two years ago, thanks partly to a tip from Elena on a possible witness, they had followed the trail to a boating tragedy on the Danube in which he drowned. Georgia had finally managed to get Peter to accept that that was fact and not theory. Elena’s current visit seemed to have nothing to do with Rick, and yet Georgia was afraid that even her presence might trigger Peter’s doubts again. And as for Luke’s suggestion, surely Elena would not wish to return permanently to England? She had not needed her former family when her husband died last year, so why should she now? The question mark hung in the air like a sword of Damocles, until she firmly banished it.
    When she reached Marsh & Daughter’s office in Peter’s home in nearby Haden Shaw on the Friday morning before the Gala, Peter began without ado: ‘Max Tanner. Press references. A few stray ends. DI Hamlyn took the case. Remember him?’
    â€˜Dimly,’ Georgia replied, relieved that Peter seemed to be throwing himself into the Luckhurst case. She had spent the day