Amanda Cadabra and The Strange Case of Lucy Penlowr Holly Bell (top 100 novels txt) 📖

‘Churchill! Heel!’ Her elderly terrier, who had paused to investigate a particularly interesting odour at the side of the pavement, now took refuge in the shadow of his owner’s tweed skirts, at the sight of Tempest. ‘Ah, Amanda. You’re back. Splendid. Did you enjoy your holiday in Cornwall?’

‘Holi—? Oh. Yes, yes, thank you.’

‘Of course, holidays can be rather taxing, so make sure you rest, and don’t feel you must rush back to The Grange. The May Day Ball is still a little while off, and things don’t have to be perfect for it. Take your time.’

‘Thank you, Miss de Havillande.’

‘Oh, and Mr Branscombe is starting at The Elms on the inspector’s suite of rooms on Tuesday.’

‘Yes I —’

‘Ah, I see the inspector is waiting for you.’ Cynthia raised her gloved hand in salute, and he waved back. ‘Excellent. Off you go then, dear.’ Tempest had already tired of intimidating the terrier, who had wandered off once more. ‘Churchill! Heel!’

Amanda hurried back across the road. Tempest strolled at his leisure.

‘It’s like the return to Harmonia Gardens scene from Hello Dolly,’ Trelawney commented drily as she got into the car, having settled her familiar. ‘I’m almost expecting Louis Armstrong to appear.’

Amanda laughed and put on her seatbelt. Moments later, they were drawing up beside her cottage. Trelawney brought her bags to the door.

‘Would you like to come in?’ she invited him.

‘I would, but I’d rather like to check in at The Elms. In case there’s anything I need to do to facilitate matters. Then my mother will be expecting me. Dad has given me a present for her. It’s wrapped up, and I must confess I am curious to know what he’s sent her.’

‘You think it might be an olive branch?’

‘They’ve always been on amicable terms. But of course, there’s always the chance ... however, let’s leave the chicken-counting to one side for now. I’ll see you tomorrow, if that’s all right, Miss Cadabra?’

‘Of course. What time?’

‘May I let you know?’

‘Sure.’

‘I’ll be off then.’ Except he stood there. Amanda looked at him, enquiringly until he spoke again: ‘I just wanted to say ... how much I’ve enjoyed — well perhaps not quite the right word for all of it — but our ... your ....’ Thomas suddenly hurried into a coherent conclusion, ‘I think we will make a good team.’

‘Thank you, Inspector. I have enjoyed it too.’

‘Perhaps ... you should ... that is, when there is more to follow up, and you would like to return to Cornwall, I would be pleased to escort you. In fact, as your partner, I really should, if only for your protection.’

‘Inspector. How kind.’ She had the impulse ... but they were in public view, even at the end of this cul-de-sac. ‘Just a moment.’ She unlocked the front door and beckoned him after her, and once inside pushed it to.

Suddenly Amanda reached up on tiptoe and hugged him. Thomas was surprised into instinctively hugging her back. She let him go after a moment and stood smiling up at him.

‘Thank you, Inspector Trelawney. Thank you for being part of my adventure.’

‘Oh ... er ... not at all, Miss Cadabra. My pleasure. Truly ... I ...You know ... I really —’

‘Yes, you must be on your way. Until tomorrow.’

‘Yes ... until tomorrow.’ He went back to his car, got in, and responded in kind as she waved him off up the street. If anyone had been privileged to catch a glimpse of Thomas’s face, they would have found it hard to read. There was definitely a smile, however subtle, with a hint of hope and the air of a cog, however small, settling into place. Mike’s words regarding Lucy echoed in his mind: ‘Someone extraordinary.’

Tempest, meanwhile, from the hall floor had been regarding this exchange with boredom. Those two, he thought. Glaciers move faster. He turned and padded towards the kitchen and far more important matters. Amanda pulled her bags over the threshold, closed the door, pulled the letters out of the crammed cage this side of the letterbox, and dropped them on the hall table.

‘Later,’ she told them.

In the kitchen, Amanda served some food to Tempest, put the kettle on and went out into the garden, breathing the sweet familiar air, stroking the still bare fruit trees. She walked up the path between them, greeted the blackbirds hopping across the lawn and the sweetly trilling dunnock calling shyly from the bushes. Amanda reached the door and unlocked her workshop.

There was her work still waiting for her. Mr Crowby’s corner chair. The back just needed gluing in place again. Mrs Bindish’s card table stretcher had broken in too many places this time. Amanda would have to cut a new one from one of her oak battens she’d reclaimed. And that miniature chest of drawers needed sanding down … On the other hand, the kettle would be boiling. She’d just got home. She really should rest .... But it wouldn’t take long.

There were her overalls lying on the ottoman that was waiting to be collected by the upholsterer. On impulse, Amanda went across to the hob on the counter opposite and turned it on, then, while it heated the glue pot, she shed her coat and scarf. Picking up her overalls revealed Tempest was underneath them, having decided that he did not care to eat yet after all. Having wriggled into her overalls, Amanda pulled out a length of beech from her store, in a cracked giant urn, and clamped it by the workbench. She reached down a saw from the wall and made a guide cut. She placed some sandpaper on the little chest. Then feeling in her pocket, she found a clip. Hastily, she put her hair in a messy plait and pinned it