Free The Red Book of Primrose House: A Potting Shed Mystery (Potting Shed Mystery series 2) by Marty Wingate Page A

playlists, which ran the gamut from Mel Tormé’s version of “On the Street Where You Live” to Coldplay. They had just claimed a booth when Liam appeared.
    “Pru, Christopher,” he said quietly, with a glance over his shoulder. “How’s the weekend?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Could I…would it be all right if I brought someone over for you to meet?”
    Pru exchanged looks with Christopher. “Yes, Liam, sure,” she said.
    He disappeared and returned almost instantly, accompanied by a tall, slender woman with glossy, straight, jet-black hair, a coffee-colored complexion, and a timid smile. “Pru, Christopher,” Liam said, “this is Cate.”
    “Will you join us?” Christopher asked.
    “Yeah, that’d be great, thanks,” Liam said, sitting next to Christopher while Cate slipped in alongside Pru.
    “Cate, do you live round here?” Pru asked.
    “Almost my whole life. Ned’s my dad,” she said, and her smile faded.
    “Oh.” Pru wasn’t as surprised at the difference in appearance—Cate looked like she might be of Indian origin, and so perhaps had been adopted—as she was at the fact that Ned had a daughter. “I didn’t know about you.” Pru glanced at Liam; he held her gaze for a moment and then looked back at Cate.
    “My mum died when I was thirteen,” Cate continued, “and it was just Dad and me then. Of course, I’ve been out of the house for ages.”
    “Cate’s a nurse,” Liam said.
    “Where do you work?” Pru asked.
    Cate looked over her shoulder at the door and put her hands on the table, rubbing one on top of the other. “Well, I haven’t worked lately. I have a little girl—she keeps me busy.”
    “Nanda,” Liam said, grinning. “She’s a corker.”
    “Ah, Liam’s got a soft spot for her.” Cate smiled and looked over her shoulder again. “She’s three, and a real handful.”
    “Shall I get us another round?” Christopher asked.
    Liam looked at Cate, who said, “I’d better go. It’s been lovely to meet you both. I hope to see you again.”
    Before they could say anything other than goodbye, Liam spirited her away.
    “Well,” Pru said, “that was…”
    “Unusual?” Christopher offered.
    “Bizarre,” she replied. “On so many levels. Ned has a daughter? Liam—he was polite and kind. Not that he isn’t a good person, but he’s usually so flippant. I’ve never seen this side of him.”
    “She’s married—or at least she probably was until recently,” Christopher said.
    “How do you know that?”
    “She was fiddling with her ring finger. There was no ring but a pale mark where one had been.”
    “Oh, that’s right, you’re a police officer.”
    He half-closed his eyes. “Would you like another pint?”
    “No, I want to go home with you.”
    As they walked back on the footpath through a field of stubble and chaff, Pru said, “For the last two weeks, ever since we started back to work after the holidays, Liam has been angry at Ned and made no attempt to hide it.” She looked at Christopher, a small frown on her face. “Why would Liam be angry with the father of the girl he was seeing? Although,” she remembered, “Cate herself didn’t look too happy when she mentioned Ned.”
    Christopher took Pru’s hand as they hopped over a particularly large fissure. “Who was she married to? Not Liam,” he said.
    “No, not Liam.”
    A light mist fell as they walked back, seeping through the layers of clothes. Christopher built a fire—he was an artist in kindling and logs. They settled on the sofa and soon forgot about everyone’s troubles.
    Too early on Monday morning, Christopher drove off into the darkness. Neither of them had been happy about it. They stood silent in each other’s arms before he left, until finally he took a deep breath, but Pru spoke first.
    “I’m sorry you have to go.”
    “You’ll be busy,” he said.
    “As will you, I know.”
    “And I’ll be back. But…”
    “I know we can’t do this every weekend,”