came back in with a tray filled with cups, saucers and a cafetière of fresh coffee. ‘Has he told you what I think?’
Annie nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, what do you think?’
‘Ah, this has nothing to do with me so I’ll keep out of it if you don’t mind. It’s still early days. You can see how it’s going in a couple of weeks and then decide.’
Tom looked at his wife. ‘See? The voice of reason. Listen to the nice police officer; she talks very good sense.’
Lily poked Tom in the ribs then bent down and kissed his head. ‘You drive me mad, Tom.’
‘Yes, I suppose I do but you love me all the same.’
They changed the conversation to Apple Tree Cottage and what Tom thought of the plans they’d had drawn up by Jake’s partner Alex, who was an architect.
‘It’s a lovely old place; I think you and Will are going to be very happy in there. Now, how long do I have to practise lifting a glass to my lips without spilling a single drop of champagne at your wedding reception?’
‘Eight weeks—I can’t believe how fast it’s coming around. I’m so glad I have you to help with the planning, Lily, because I really haven’t got a clue.’
At the mention of the wedding Lily’s face brightened and a smile spread across it. Tom winked at Annie and sat quietly, listening to the plans Lily had to turn their back garden into a romantic fairy tale grotto. If it kept Lily happy it meant he was happy and he nodded along as the two women chatted about dresses, menus, guests and cake.
After an hour Annie stood up. ‘Sorry, I need to get going; Will has promised that he’ll be home in time for tea tonight so I want to be there to photograph the occasion.’
Tom laughed. ‘I never knew that two men could be so lucky to find such amazing women.’
Annie kissed them both. ‘I’ll let myself out.’
She walked to the door and opened it, surprised to see Amelia standing on the other side, her cheeks burning. She nodded at her and then walked to the front door and let herself out. There was definitely something she didn’t like about that woman and she hoped it wouldn’t turn into something bad.
***
Will walked through the front door as promised at ten past six and Annie pretended to faint.
‘Ha ha, very funny. Jake’s on his way. Apparently he and Alex have something they want to tell you and it can’t be done over the phone; it has to be done in person.’
‘What is it; did he say?’
‘Nope, it’s top secret; you have to be the first to know, before anyone else.’
‘I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. I called to see your dad on my way home; he looks so much better and he was very chatty. Lily is pissed off with him, though, about that Amelia.’
‘Ah, yes, the ice queen. She’s a funny woman. She didn’t crack a smile once when I was joking with her the other day. In fact she wouldn’t even look at me, apart from the odd sneaky glance. I’ll have to tell Stu that I’ve finally found a woman who doesn’t find me irresistible.’
‘That’s so vain, Will; I can’t believe you just said that. But yes, I suppose there are some women who won’t find you their type. Lesbians for one.’
‘You’re just jealous, Annie.’
He dodged the slap she aimed for his arm and grabbed hold of her, pulling her towards him. ‘But I only have eyes for you.’
‘Good, I’m glad about that because I can’t live without you. So what’s happening in the high profile world of CID this week—anything exciting?’
‘Not much, thank God. My department has had more excitement in two years than it has in the last twenty. Just the same old stuff really; the most exciting thing to happen this week was someone had their already broken petrol generator stolen from their shed by someone they already knew and identified.’
There was a loud knock on the door and Will opened it to see a beaming Jake and Alex standing on the other side. Jake was holding a bottle of champagne and offered it to Annie.
‘To what do we owe this pleasure?’
Jake stepped in, followed by Alex.
‘We wanted you to be the first to know. We’re going to be parents.’
Annie threw her arms around Jake, squeezing him tight and then Alex. ‘Aw, congratulations, but if you don’t mind me asking, how?’
Will stepped forward to shake their hands. ‘Congratulations, guys.’
Jake followed Annie into the kitchen. ‘What do you think—we kept it quiet, eh?’
‘You certainly did—have you found someone to be a surrogate?’
‘Oh, God, no, there are so many kids out there who need loving homes we put our names down to adopt last year and have been going through the process for months now. This morning we got told that a three-month-old baby girl needed a home sooner rather than later. I can’t wait! I never thought I’d say this but I guess looking after you has made me broody.’
Annie stared at him. ‘What are you trying to say—that I’m like some big kid?’
Alex pulled a face at Will and the pair of them began talking about the latest football results, neither of them wanting to get involved.
‘Of course not, Annie, but I do get to babysit you a lot and I’m just saying it made me realise how much I like taking care of people.’
Annie kept her temper in check, not wanting to spoil what was obviously an important day for both of them, but Jake had a knack of putting his size twelve feet in his mouth without thinking almost every time he opened it.
‘That’s okay then. I’ll let you off and I suppose that you are a very good babysitter.’
The tension in the room dissipated and Will felt his shoulders relax. He popped the cork on the champagne bottle and poured it into the four glasses he had just taken from the cupboard, handing Alex one first.
He downed it and smiled. ‘You have such a way with words, Jake, I’m surprised anyone even bothers speaking to you most of the time.’
‘I do, Alex; it’s like a gift from the gods.’
This made all four of them laugh. You couldn’t stay mad at Jake – well, not for very long. Annie wondered if she would ever have such news to tell her friends and, judging by the look on Will’s face, she thought that one day she might. He was looking very wistful into his champagne glass.
‘Here’s to Jake and Alex, who are going to be amazing parents.’
Will toasted them and then downed his drink as well.
1782
Betsy didn’t watch the cart which brought her mother’s coffin to the front door; she didn’t want to see it. Mrs Whitman had been the village’s local layer of the dead for years and had gone in to wash and dress her mother in her Sunday best, ready to be laid into the coffin. The funeral was not for another three days but she felt as if she had already outstayed her welcome here, at the Whitmans’ house; tonight she must go back home and sleep in her own bed. She was tired and hoped this would make her sleep and forget the fact that her mother’s body was lying downstairs, slowly rotting away. She wasn’t sure whether it was guilt she’d felt or relief when the doctor had said she had bled to death from a burst blood vessel and there was nothing Betsy could have done to stop it. She had thanked him, knowing fine well it was nothing of the sort, but she didn’t want him to suspect her of any wrongdoing. Mrs Whitman and two of her mother’s friends had been in and cleaned the house from top to bottom, ready for Betsy to go home. They had