The Troutbeck Testimony Read Online Free PDF Page B

interest in the time she’d known her. Jasper was the third man in her life during that period, and while it meant bad news for the besotted Wilf Harkness, brother of Ben, it was gratifying to have confirmation that the young vet was interested. Simmy had been there when the two first met, and noticed then that there had been sparks.
    ‘Anyway, I should go,’ the girl went on. ‘I only came to introduce Bonnie. She can do every day this week, if you want her to. After that, you’ll have to juggle with school for a bit. We can work it all out, next time I’m in. Tomorrow, with any luck.’
    ‘There’s the funeral on Friday,’ Simmy said. ‘I could do with your help for that. There were two more orders for it this morning when I got in. It’s going to be huge at this rate.’
    ‘Pays to be popular,’ muttered Melanie. The deceased was a woman in her sixties, who had been a prominent member of the community, with an OBE to show for it. Her death had been prolonged and public, the struggle against cancer documented all too visibly as she went in and out of hospital. Simmy’s mother, like almost everyone in the southern Lake District, knew her vaguely and fully intended to put in an appearance at the funeral. So far, there had been no fewer than fifteen orders for flowers received by Persimmon Petals of Windermere. The chief mourner was Valerie, a woman variously described as ‘friend’, ‘lover’, ‘companion’ and ‘distant cousin’. She had come to Simmy for her own flowers, which had been flattering but scary.
    ‘Valerie and Barbara were definitely not lovers,’ said Angie Straw emphatically.
    ‘How do you know?’ asked Simmy.
    ‘I just do. You get a sense for these things in my line of business.’ Beck View Bed and Breakfast had undeniably seen more than its share of unorthodox relationships, Simmy supposed. But whatever the truth of it, the bereaved Valerie was very upset indeed at her loss.
    ‘I’ll never get all the flowers in the van at once,’ said Simmy. ‘Lucky it’s the local undertaker, so it won’t be too much of a pain to do two journeys.’ The need to avoid the slightest hint of a mistake where funeral flowers were concerned was acute. ‘It’s going to occupy my every waking thought tomorrow,’ she added.
    ‘Good luck, then,’ said Melanie. ‘At least you’ll have Bonnie to answer the phone for you.’
    ‘What time can you manage tomorrow?’
    ‘I’ll try to make it by three or thereabouts. Don’t bank on it, though.’
    ‘That’d be a big help.’ The unpredictable stop-start nature of the business made staffing tricky at any time. Aside from the obvious rush periods for Mother’s Day and Valentine’s, there was no knowing just when things would get busy. Mother’s Day had been less of a trauma than they’d feared, but it had still entailed a week of late nights and total concentration. Easter, by comparison, had been a breeze.
    Melanie was edging towards the door, apparently not eager to leave. ‘Your dad was the only man you saw over the weekend then, was he?’ she blurted. ‘What about Ninian?’
    ‘Ninian was his usual elusive self. It’s like trying tocommunicate with somebody in the Dark Ages. I’m wondering whether carrier pigeons might work. He’s given up using his phone since they put the costs up. And he still insists he doesn’t want a car.’
    ‘At least you’ve been to his cottage now. You can find him if you really want to.’
    ‘True. Except he’s often not there.’
    Bonnie was showing signs of curiosity during this exchange, and Simmy explained, ‘Ninian’s a friend. He’s a potter, living up on Brant Fell in an old stone cottage. We sell his stuff here, look.’ She pointed to a row of stoneware vases, as well as one on the floor containing a collection of lilies.
    ‘Oh yeah, I know who that is,’ said Bonnie unconcernedly. ‘Those lilies look a bit squashed like that, don’t you think?’
    ‘You’re right – they do. I