Shadow Over Edmund Street by Suzanne Frankham (read a book .TXT) 📕

He sat staring straight ahead, seeing nothing, his mind revving at warp speed, mapping out the next few months, his senses razor-sharp, his body alive with a delicious tingle. He checked his watch. He would have coffee and cake at Jack’s Place, let him talk, see what he knew. He was bound to know about Juliana’s new friend, Rose. If the description fitted, then it was game on. He had her.

Edward hummed as he started the car. He should hurry. He needed enough time to go shopping before he returned home to Patricia.

* ‘Edward? Edward is that you?’

‘Yes.’ Edward opened the door and saw his wife at the kitchen bench. She broke into a broad smile as she caught sight of the flowers in his hand.

‘Are those for me?’

‘An apology for being late my dear. It turned into one of those days.’

‘Oh, Edward, peonies. My favourite. Thank you. You’re so thoughtful.’

He smiled. ‘It’s been quite a day. It started off badly and ended well. I thought we should celebrate.’

‘Celebrate? Why?’

Edward glanced at the steak and vegetables spread over the kitchen bench. ‘Will this keep?’

‘Why yes. It will keep till tomorrow. What did you have

in mind?’

‘Let’s go out. It’s been the oddest day. I’ll tell you about it over dinner.’

Patricia caught the eagerness in his voice. ‘Very mysterious.’ Undid her apron. ‘Give me a few minutes to put the food away and the flowers in water.’

‘I’ll do the flowers. Oh, by the way, I’ve got a new car.’

‘What? What on earth do you mean?’

He exploded into laughter. ‘Get ready and I’ll explain.’

* ‘Well, it has been quite a day.’ Patricia smiled at him across the table in the restaurant. ‘Good of you to take it so well. I’d have thought you’d be furious.’ She took a sip of her favourite riesling.

They had ordered dinner. Patricia had decided on lamb, slow cooked with apricots and pistachios, Edward, the chef’s special seafood platter.

He smiled. ‘You know me too well. I was furious. Couldn’t believe it at first, when the car broke down. Less than a year old, but these things happen I suppose. It allowed me to reflect on a few things.’

‘Yes? Where exactly did this reflection take you?’

He turned and pulled a brochure from his coat pocket. It was bent and curled, but he put it on the table with a thump.

‘England,’ she read. ‘Tours of England.’ Her green eyes shone silver. A sure sign she was excited. ‘Oh Edward. You’ve found the time. We can take a holiday.’

‘Ah, no. This morning I worked through my schedule for the next few months and it’s hectic. Frantic, in fact. It set me thinking. I’m sorry Patricia, I can’t free up time this year, but there’s no reason for you not to go. We’ve been talking about it and as much as I hate to admit it, we’re not getting any younger.’

He picked up the brochure, tried to smooth out the pages. ‘Don’t say no until you’ve heard me out. I had a quick scan and there’s one tour I thought you would love. Six weeks exploring castles in England—and some in France too, I think. You know how much you enjoy history,’ he kept his voice off-hand. ‘And I’m not mad keen. One castle’s enough for me. So why don’t you think about it? I’m sure you’ll find someone to go with you. In fact, with your circle of friends you’ll probably be able to rustle up a girls’ group.’ His face broke into a grin. ‘Then, if you want to catch up with your aunt in London, I’ll join you. She must be well into her eighties by now so perhaps we should.’

‘Well, I don’t know.’ Patricia fiddled with her gold bracelet, her cheeks pink, flustered.

‘Read the brochure, see what you think.’

She nodded. ‘Yes. I suppose there’s no reason why I shouldn’t.’ She picked it up and began flicking through it. Stopped at the tour he had picked out, with glossy photographs of castles, manor houses, cottage gardens overflowing with flowers of every colour and people smiling happily at the camera. ‘But six weeks? So long.

What about the dog? How would you manage? No, I can’t possibly do it.’

‘Ah. I thought about that. Mrs B won’t mind doing some meals as well as housework, will she? And she’s always happy to take the dog for a walk. She loves him.’ His face softened. ‘She’s done it before. She’s always looking for the extra money.’

‘Well, I don’t know. I’ll have to ask her. I suppose she wouldn’t mind. But it’s such a long time. What will you do with yourself?’

‘Well. I’ve been thinking. There’s something that has to be done. Been putting it off.’ He cleared his throat. Ploughed on. ‘You know the house we own in Herne Bay?’

Patricia nodded. ‘I’d almost forgotten about it.’

‘Exactly,’ said Edward, trying to control the anticipation fizzing through him. ‘It’s been bothering me. It’s high maintenance. I think as we get older we need to simplify our investments. Do you know it’s the last residential property we own? All the rest are commercial. I thought, while you’re away, I’ll go over there, decide whether we need to do it up or sell it as is. I’m thinking we should probably have it done up. It’s valuable real estate. But I’ll get some advice.’

Patricia took another sip of riesling. ‘My, my, you have been busy today.’ There was an edge to her voice that Edward recognised. It meant he’d overstepped the mark. Patricia liked to be consulted about money matters. A nod to the fact she had come to the marriage with assets.

‘What do you think?’ he asked, holding his breath.

She played with the stem of her wine glass. Turned it around and around on the damask tablecloth. ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to give it some thought. I suppose what you’ve said makes some sense.’ She glanced at the brochure. ‘It’s true