A Sprinkle of Sabotage by Fiona Leitch (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

‘What?’ I was surprised. ‘Did he come here?’

Mum nodded. ‘Yes, didn’t he find you?’

‘Yeah, he did. He didn’t say he’d come here first…’

‘He said he really needed to talk to you,’ said Mum. ‘Poor Nathan, he must have a lot on his plate, what with his dad being ill and so far away. Did you have a talk?’

‘Not really. We got distracted.’ Mum grinned at me and I rolled my eyes. ‘Not like that,’ I said, aware of a note of disappointment in my voice. ‘Stuff happened, that’s all.’

‘What stuff?’

I groaned. I knew she’d pester me until I told her, but she was about as good at keeping secrets as ducks are at basketball. I fixed her with a stern glare.

‘If I tell you, you cannot say anything,’ I said.

‘When have I ever gossiped?’ she asked, all innocence. I guffawed loudly. ‘Okay, I might be one for spreading the local news, but that’s not the same as gossiping, is it?’

‘Erm, yes, yes, it is. I mean it, Mum, you can’t tell anyone. It’ll be all over the news soon enough and then you can say you already knew, but not before then.’

She looked at me with wide eyes. ‘Blimey, what happened? Tell me!’

I sighed. ‘Jeremy Mayhew died at the dinner party tonight.’

She gasped – a genuine gasp of surprise. ‘Not that bloke from Bagnall? Daisy was just saying earlier how good he was.’

I nodded. ‘Him.’

‘Oh no! What a waste. Proper ’andsum in his younger days, he was. I wouldn’t have said no to him even now, to be honest.’

‘Mum! The poor bugger’s dead. Have some respect.’

‘How’s it disrespectful to say he was a looker? He was a proper bad boy when he was younger, always in the papers… So what happened?’

I hesitated. It was looking ninety-nine per cent certain that the pufferfish had done for him, and that it was therefore Zack’s fault, but I so wanted it not to be his fault that I didn’t want to blame him until we knew, absolutely, definitely, one hundred per cent what the cause of death was. So I just said, ‘We’re not sure. We think it was something he ate.’ Which was true.

‘Oh, that’s terrible! Not something you cooked?’

I flushed. ‘No, not something I cooked! It was … an allergy or something. We don’t know yet. It happened very quickly.’

‘Poor man. Nasty way to go.’ She was right. It must have been very nasty.

Mum went to bed not long after. I changed into my pjs and made myself a hot chocolate, then went to read in bed, but I couldn’t concentrate. My eyes went back over the same words, over and over again, without taking anything in. Eventually I gave up and just let myself think. Maybe it had been an allergy? Maybe that was why none of the others had been affected. Aiko and Sam had both complained of nausea, but the upset of the evening was enough to make anyone feel ill; it could just have been shock. Lots of people seemed to have allergies these days. Look at Kimi, with her long list of dietary requirements – although I wasn’t sure whether they were genuine or just her being faddy.

I reached into my bedside drawer and rifled around in it until I was forced to concede there was no paper in there, then went downstairs, found a writing pad and pen, and went back to bed. I propped myself up comfortably on the pillows, made room for Germaine (who had gone back to her usual spot by Daisy’s feet, but had come in to see what all the commotion was about and decided my bed was comfier), and started writing.

I was woken the next morning by the ping of a text message reaching my phone, which I’d left on top of my chest of drawers. My first thought was that it was Nathan, telling me someone else had died, but when I dragged myself across the room and read it, bleary-eyed, I saw that it was a group message from the film production office, telling all extras that filming had been temporarily suspended. That’s going to put the cat amongst the pigeons, I thought, and sure enough about ten minutes later I got a text from Tony, making sure I’d got the message and asking me if I knew what was going on … to which I replied that yes, I had seen it, but I didn’t answer his question. And then five minutes later Debbie rang me.

‘What’s the goss?’ she asked, the minute I answered.

‘Good morning to you too,’ I said, stifling a yawn.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever,’ she said. ‘Come on, spill. Callum saw Tony last night and he said you were still at the shoot, doing some dinner party. And then the next day everything grinds to a halt. What did you do? Slip some arsenic in Faith’s pudding to stop her flirting with Tony?’

‘No, I didn’t bloody poison anyone! And why would I care about her flirting with Tony?’ I said, although of course I sort of did care.

‘So why has shooting stopped?’

‘What makes you think I’d know?’

She snorted. ‘Because you’re so bloomin’ nosey.’

I sighed. It was a fair cop. I opened my mouth, not knowing what I was going to say, but was saved by a beep as another call came in: Nathan.

‘Sorry, Nathan’s calling me,’ I said, ‘and quite frankly he’s better looking than you, so…’

She laughed. ‘I ain’t one to stand in the way of true love,’ she said, because of course she had no idea that Nathan was leaving. I blinked hard, refusing to accept the sudden tears that threatened my eyes. ‘Off you go. Say hi to him from me.’

She hung up, and I answered Nathan’s call.

‘Morning,’ I said, with forced cheeriness.

‘Morning. How are you? No sickness or anything?’ he asked.

‘No, I’m fine. What about the other diners? Anyone else popped their clogs?’

‘I don’t know.