Next Door to Murder Read Free Page A

– some of it Curzon, Rona noted; beds were made up with exotic spreads or duvets and piled high with plump, colour-coordinated cushions, while in living-room settings, leather sofas and low, lamp-lit tables suggested the ultimate in comfortable relaxation.
    â€˜Would you like any help, ladies?’ enquired a smooth voice, and they turned to find a young man smiling at them.
    â€˜We’re just looking, thank you,’ Rona said.
    â€˜Fine; but should you need any information on prices or availability, please don’t hesitate to ask.’
    He moved away, leaving them to their browsing.
    â€˜It makes me want to throw everything out, and start again,’ Lindsey said.
    â€˜That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Seriously, Ro, I’m realizing that my tastes have changed. The furniture in the flat is what Hugh and I chose together, and split between us when we divorced. I can still picture him sitting in the chairs, which can be disconcerting when I’m with Jonathan. The idea of updating hadn’t occurred to me, but it’s very tempting.’
    â€˜Well, go slowly, for goodness’ sake – a chair or table at a time.’
    â€˜But that could end up looking bitty. Better, surely, to take advice from an interior decorator or someone?’
    â€˜It would double your expenses, for a start.’
    Lindsey sighed. ‘No doubt you’re right.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I must be getting back; my lunch hour’s nearly up.’
    â€˜Your lunch hour-and-a-half, you mean.’
    â€˜Very funny.’
    With a noncommittal smile at the hovering assistant, they made their way outside, where the hot air met them like a suffocating blanket.
    â€˜Max is thinking of air con for the studio,’ Rona remarked, as she untied Gus from his railing.
    â€˜I don’t blame him; we couldn’t survive in the office without it.’ They exchanged a quick kiss. ‘See you on Saturday,’ Lindsey said, and, crossing Fullers Walk, she continued along Guild Street in the direction of Chase Mortimer.
    Rona rounded the corner into the side street, glancing in Willows’ windows as she went. Fullers Walk remained commercial for about a third of its length, accommodating, beyond Willows’, a florist’s, a bakery, a delicatessen and several smaller outlets, before the shops tailed off to give way to residential houses. Two roads led off it: halfway down on the left, Dean’s Crescent curved back towards the eastern end of Guild Street, and, having crossed it, became Dean’s Crescent North, where Max had his cottage; while a hundred yards farther on, the Walk was bisected by Lightbourne Avenue, the road in which they lived.
    As she walked home, Rona’s mind was on the possibilities that had opened up, and she’d taken out her key before she realized there was someone in the garden of the house next door.
    She paused and, glancing over the low wall, saw an elderly couple standing at the foot of the steps, the door of the house open behind them. They were examining a rather tired-looking plant in a pot, but, sensing Rona’s presence, they looked up enquiringly.
    â€˜Good afternoon,’ she said. ‘I’m Rona Parish, and I live next door.’
    â€˜Oh – how do you do?’ They moved uncertainly forward, and the man added, ‘Barbara and Keith Franks.’
    He had, Rona noted, a slight transatlantic accent.
    â€˜Are you settling in all right?’
    His wife gave a nervous smile. ‘There’s a lot of sorting out to do.’
    â€˜You’ve come from abroad?’
    â€˜Yes, Canada. We’re actually English, but we’ve lived over there for some time.’
    There was a brief, almost embarrassed, pause. Then Rona said, ‘Well, if there’s anything we can help you with, please let us know.’
    They nodded their thanks, and she continued the few yards to her own gateway and, still