Elinor Lipman

The Dearly Departed


Скачать книгу

id="u4697baef-c877-5d62-b85b-114ba2d575b9">

      ELINOR LIPMAN

       The Dearly Departed

      A NOVEL

      This book is dedicated to my son,

      BENJAMIN LIPMAN AUSTIN

      CONTENTS

       Cover

       Title Page

       Dedication

       Chapter 10: Graveside

       Chapter 11: After the Service, No Mourners are Invited Back

       Chapter 12: How Long has this Been Going on?

       Chapter 13: Checkout

       Chapter 14: Fletcher and Billy

       Chapter 15: Bungalow Blues

       Chapter 16: Nobody Slips anything by Winnie

       Chapter 17: Happy Hour

       Chapter 18: Fletcher Inherits the Bug

       Chapter 19: Company

       Chapter 20: The Missus

       Chapter 21: Life is Simpler than You Think

       Chapter 22: Advice

       Chapter 23: Emily Ann Recants

       Chapter 24: 9–1–1

       Chapter 25: A Place to Stay

       Chapter 26: No Hard Feelings

       Chapter 27: Things are Looking up

       Chapter 28: No Secret in King George

       Chapter 29: The Member-Guest

       Chapter 30: The Moms

       Chapter 31: Deal

       Acknowledgements

       Keep Reading

       About the Author

       Other Works

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       CHAPTER 1 Come Back to king George

      Sunny met Fletcher for the first time at their parents’ funeral, a huge graveside affair where bagpipes wailed and strangers wept. It was a humid, mosquito-plagued June day, and the grass was spongy from a midnight thunderstorm. They had stayed on the fringes of the crowd until both were rounded up and bossed into the prime mourners’ seats by the funeral director. Sunny wore white—picture hat, dress, wet shoes—and an expression that layered anger over grief: Who is he? How dare he? Are any of these gawkers friends?

      Unspoken but universally noticed was the physical attribute she and Fletcher shared—a halo of prematurely gray hair of a beautiful shade and an identical satiny, flyaway texture. No DNA test result, no hints in wills, could be more eloquent than this: the silver corona of signature hair above their thirty-one-year-old, identically furrowed brows.

      The King George Bulletin had reported every possible angle, almost gleefully. MARGARET BATTEN, LOCAL ACTRESS, AND FRIEND FOUND UNCONSCIOUS, said the first banner headline, BULLETIN PAPER CARRIER CALLS 911, boasted the kicker. An arty photo—sunrise in King George—of scrawny, helmeted Tyler Lopez on his bike, a folded newspaper frozen in flight, appeared on page 1. “I knew something was wrong when I saw them laying on the floor—the woman and a man,” he told the reporter. “The door was open. I thought they might still be alive, so I used the phone.” Inescapable in the coverage was the suggestion of a double suicide or foul play. Yellow police tape surrounded the small house. Even after tests revealed carbon monoxide in their blood and a crack in the furnace’s heat exchanger, Bulletin reporters carried on, invigorated by a double, coed death on their beat.

      A reader named Vickileigh Vaughn wrote a letter to the editor. She wanted to clarify something on the record so all of King George would know: Friend in the headline was inaccurate and possibly libelous. Miles Finn and Margaret Batten were engaged to be married. Friends, yes, but so much more than that. An outdoor wedding had been discussed. If the odorless and invisible killer hadn’t overcome them, Miles would have left, as was his custom, before midnight, after the Channel 9 news.