Free Murder in Abbot's Folly by Amy Myers Page A

so be it.
    Tentatively, she explored what reasons there might be for her to be shying away from contemplating a future with her mother close at hand. Resentment immediately occurred to her. She could deal with that. Regret was another matter. Regret for the childhood memories, both of laughter and tears, that would always now be blurred because of what had happened more recently, when the way Elena had treated Peter had made her realize that the fluttering butterfly who had brought such pleasure and excitement into their lives was in reality supremely self-centred, her love only superficial while it suited her. Was that fair? Perhaps not, but while the thought stayed in her mind no real relationship could be established. Did that matter? Could she manage with her mother living locally but without having close involvement with her? No. There was the possibility that in the not-distant future Elena too might need care. Would she give it? Of course she would. She knew that she could not turn her back as Elena herself had done fourteen years ago. Did she want to walk away? Agonizingly, amazingly, the answer was no.
    â€˜I feel the same, Georgia,’ Peter told her. ‘If our rock centre stays solid, we can help her without needing her – that’s when the trouble starts.’
    â€˜It’s a deal, guv,’ she growled.
    Peter laughed. ‘You must admit it will make life interesting,’ he said.
    â€˜So does a volcano.’

FIVE
    â€˜ D arlings!’ Dora threw her arms wide open in welcome at the door of Edgar House the next day, and then emerged to hug Georgia. Dora was still tearful, naturally enough. She had obviously been very fond of Laura, and the shock itself would take time to wear off, let alone the loss.
    Gerald strode out purposefully towards Peter. ‘Good to see you, old chap. Show you round, shall I?’
    Peter grinned at this tactfulness. ‘Thanks.’ He had had only limited success. The Clackingtons were very happy to let them see the whole of Edgar House, but Gerald had awkwardly explained they felt they could not talk freely about Jane Austen without the Fettises’ permission.
    â€˜We’ll all go that way, Georgia,’ Dora suggested. ‘It will take us past the old kitchens – there are still traces of how they used to be.’
    Dora was clad in serviceable trousers and top this morning, and wearing everyday clothes rather than the flowing tea-gown or Regency costume, Georgia found it much easier to talk to her. ‘Where’s Elena?’ she asked.
    â€˜Making us coffee. She has already had the tour of Edgar House, so she’ll join us later.’
    â€˜It’s good of you to let us come, with so much on your minds.’
    â€˜Takes our minds off it,’ Gerald replied, embarrassed. ‘Sorry we have to hold back on too much talk about Jane Austen’s love affair until the Fettises have declared open season.’
    â€˜We don’t know when that will be now,’ Dora said. ‘We don’t like to ask Roy and Jennifer what their plans are. Dear Jennifer says they’ve no idea when the funeral will be yet. I suppose that’s inevitable. The police . . .’ Her voice faltered, and she began again. ‘Tim is so talented, though – he has just the right touch. He will know when it is proper to talk about Stourdens. As if it mattered now.’
    â€˜I take it that Edgar House is involved in their plans?’ Georgia asked, as casually as she could.
    Dora and Gerald exchanged a glance, halting at the side door. ‘Well, yes,’ Dora said. ‘When you see the old Assembly Rooms you’ll appreciate the potential. We’ve always hoped that they could be restored and used again, perhaps for recitals, but it would require a great deal of money. And now – who knows? All we can think of is Laura.’
    â€˜And the police,’ Gerald added practically.
    Georgia longed to ask if