Ellie, eager to change the subject, remembered her mother’s upcoming appearance. “You’ll be on prime time on Saturday, aren’t you excited?”
Carolyn tried to feign nonchalance, but her joy was evident. “It was a thrill to be back on set, even if I spent most of it not moving. Just hearing it. Action... cut... stop breathing so much...” Her eyes sparkled as she continued, “If I could play a corpse on Casualty every day, I would, and maybe Penny’s right. I could. I think I showed them my range.” Clearing her throat, Carolyn suddenly went rigid before flopping dramatically. “Okay, that was divorced woman murdered by her husband dead. See how different this one is?” She repeated the exact same move, only with hunched shoulders. “That one was a driving instructor. Did you notice the difference?”
Ellie couldn’t help but smile at her mother’s theatrical display. “The shoulders...”
“...are hunched because of all the driving,” Carolyn finished triumphantly, though her enthusiasm quickly faded. “They might call me.”
They sipped their hot chocolate in companionable silence for a moment. Ellie watched as her mother’s expression shifted, a familiar restlessness creeping into her eyes. Suddenly, Carolyn stood up, tossing her half-full mug of hot chocolate into a nearby plant pot.
“Far too rich,” she declared, reaching out to pull Ellie to her feet. “You need to switch up your motivation, dear, because your current one has got you all in a funk, and I didn’t raise a quitter.”
Ellie allowed herself to be hauled upright, surprised by her mother’s sudden burst of energy. “I’ll give you that. And see, that’s another thing in common.”
“Darling, we’re practically twins.” Carolyn’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she pulled Ellie in for a tight squeeze. The embrace was unexpected and quick, and Ellie found herself leaning into it, savouring the rare moment. “Please tell me you’re staying in the village.”
“I—”
“Ellie, I might do anything,” she said, stepping back from the hug as quickly as it had begun. “I’ll… I’ll be nicer… I’ll quit acting…”
“Mother—”
“I’ll stop eating meat!”
“Why would I want you to do that?”
Carolyn stepped back again, staring down at Ellie’s clothes, still soaked. “You’re not vegan?”
“No.”
“Vegetarian?” Carolyn tilted her head as though she was witnessing something sad. “Meat-free Mondays? Sorry, I just assumed, given how you dress.”
Ellie looked down, not sure what screamed ‘might not eat meat.’ “I didn’t realise I was appropriating the vegetarian look.”
“Oh, is that going to get me cancelled?” Carolyn gasped, but then she pulled her shawl in tighter. “You know, I heard some people get more famous after they’ve been cancelled.”
“Mother, please do not try to get cancelled. Your life is already shocking without the extra effort. If only you had a camera crew capturing your daily life.”
“Like reality television, you mean?” She looked sick at the idea, but then she pulled her shawl tighter still. “I know it’s the lowest of the low, but a lot of people watch it, don’t they?” After another second’s daydreaming, she batted the idea away with a hand. “Okay, be gone. I need my beauty sleep for the screening tomorrow. You mustn’t forget. Be here for eight sharp because I spend the pre-titles scene alive!” She paused and added, “Thank you for saving me from Sylvia earlier. I think I might have crumbled.”
“Mother, if anyone can pick themselves up, it’s you,” Ellie said, pushing herself to her feet, throwing the hot chocolate away after one last sip. “And that’s what I’m going to do. It’s time my gran showed her hand.”
Leaving her mother to drag herself up to bed with Duchess trotting behind, Ellie showed herself out. But as she walked through the hall, there it was again. The scent of cherries, and getting down as low as she dared without arousing her mother’s suspicion, she inhaled deeply, sure the cherries were drifting up from the floor.
Chapter 26And He Broke Maggie’s Heart
Ellie stepped into her grandmother’s cottage, the scent of burning filling her nostrils. She found Maggie in the kitchen, pounding a pot of what should have been mashed potatoes with a masher. A burnt chicken roast sat on the counter, still smoking, and a tray of honey-glazed parsnips had crystallised into shiny black rocks.
“Gran?” Ellie called softly.
Maggie looked up. “Oh, Ellie. I’m sorry, dear. Everything’s gone wrong. I think I overcooked the potatoes. I nodded off, and... they’re just gloop now.” She lifted up the masher and let it run in thick streams. “I’ve made a pig’s ear out of this.”
Ellie approached, turning off the oven, still blaring despite the chicken on the counter. “It’s alright, Gran. We can order takeaway.”
Maggie shook her head, setting the masher down with a clatter. “It’s not just the dinner, Ellie. I... I’ve been waiting for you to come home. I’ve made a decision, and I can’t keep it to myself.” Clutching the counter and staring into the gloop, she said, “I think I am going to sell the bookshop.”
The words hung heavy in the air. Ellie felt a pang in her chest, knowing this was what she’d been thinking her grandmother should do, but hearing it aloud was different, especially after just walking through the door; it was turning out to be one of those nights.
“Smell the mop,” Maggie continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t even say it. Sell the shop. How pathetic is that?”
Ellie reached out, placing a comforting hand on her grandmother’s arm. “It’s not pathetic, Gran. But I need you to put that to one side right and I promise we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight, there’s something more important we need to discuss.”
Maggie looked up, curiosity replacing some of the sadness in her eyes.
“James Blackwood has a concrete alibi,” Ellie explained, “which leaves very few people in the frame. So, why do you know for certain that Charles is innocent?”
Maggie nodded, setting down the potato masher with a sigh. “Given your research, you’ve been right all along to suspect Charles, but he is innocent.”
“But how can you be so sure?”
Maggie leaned against the counter, gripping the edge. “After noticing the book at the shop—the one Edmund bought for Charles’s Open University history course—he didn’t even try to deny it. Charles confessed everything to me.”
Ellie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Confessed what?”
“At Emma’s birthday party, Emma made the whole thing about how she was going to sell the manuscript if she got her hands on it,” Maggie continued. “He said the family have been at fever pitch for months after Edmund delayed his will reading, leaving them all wondering, building up what he’d left them in their minds for two whole years. It’s no wonder they’re all losing their minds.” Her gaze drifted to the window, her expression distant. “Charles told me every family member had already decided what they’d do with it. That’s why he wanted to protect it from being sold or destroyed. He wanted to protect it from them. He thinks Edmund would want it this way.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Me neither,” Maggie agreed. “He wanted them to know what he thought of them. The riddles are difficult, but maybe if they’d put their heads together, they’d have figured them out.”
