eyes filling
with tears. “I just, that is,
everything is so overwhelming right now.” Her eyes moved from Janet to Peter and back again. “I think I need some sleep.”
“We can make you a cuppa ,
if you’d like,” Janet offered.
“No, I’m okay,” Paula replied. “I’ll see you in the
morning.”
She headed up the stairs, leaving Peter
behind.
“I’m awfully sorry,” he told Janet. “We’re both under so much stress. We’ll try harder to behave.”
Janet smiled at him. “Would you like a cuppa ?”
she asked.
He hesitated for a moment and then shook his
head. “I’d love one,” he said. “But I really need to be with
Paula. She needs me.”
Janet watched as he walked up the stairs,
and then she went back into the kitchen.
“They’re certainly not happy with one
another,” Joan remarked as Janet helped her tidy the space.
“No, they really aren’t,” Janet agreed. “I wonder what they’re so
worried about.”
“Yes, well, that isn’t our business,” Joan
replied.
“Unless it’s to do with the counterfeit
money,” Janet said. “They might
still pay with fake notes.”
“Robert said they had a suspect and were
ready to make an arrest,” Joan reminded her.
“Maybe Peter and Paula are the suspects,”
Janet said. “You never know.”
Joan shook her head. “That seems highly unlikely,” she
replied.
“But it is possible,” Janet insisted. “Of course, it’s also possible that
Charles and Lynne are the ones. Maybe they saw the police at their car and ran away,” she suggested.
“Really, you must stop suspecting our guests
of criminal behaviour ,” Joan said sharply. “I think you need to stop reading all
those detective stories and start reading something that will improve your
mind.”
“My mind is just about as improved as it can
be,” Janet said. “It’s just
tired. Good night.”
Joan replied in kind and Janet headed to
bed. Upstairs, she could hear both
sets of guests talking loudly in their rooms, but she couldn’t make out any
words, not to suggest that she was standing outside their rooms with her ear
pressed to the doors or anything. She got ready for bed and then curled up with an old favourite by Agatha Christie. Already knowing
who the killer was didn’t dampen her enjoyment of the story one bit. She read far later than she should have,
but still managed to drag herself out of bed in time to help her sister with
breakfast the next morning.
Chapter Eight
The next morning at eight Joan and Janet
were working in the kitchen when they heard the front door open and close. Janet quickly made her way to the front door
and pulled it open. She watched as
Charles and Lynne disappeared up the road, walking quickly.
“So I guess they don’t want breakfast,” Joan
remarked when Janet told her what she’d seen.
“Maybe they have a tow truck scheduled to
pick up the car or something,” Janet said.
“They could have at least told us,” Joan
replied. “Watch them come back in
an hour and want breakfast then.”
“We’ll have to see, won’t we?” Janet said. “I’ll burn their toast if they do, okay?”
Joan smiled. “I know I need to learn to stop
stressing about such things,” she admitted. “But I do wish our guests would make
more of an effort to stick to a convenient schedule.”
“They are on holiday,” Janet pointed out.
A few minutes later they heard the door
again. Janet wasn’t sure what to
expect as she checked the sitting room. This time she was just able to see the back of Peter and Paula’s car as
it drove away up the road.
“Just me for breakfast today,” she told
Joan. “I’m sure I can eat at least
two breakfasts, though, if that helps.”
Joan laughed. “What a kind offer,” she said. “But I think just one breakfast will be
plenty for you.”
The buzzer for the back door off of the
conservatory