The Ambleside Alibi: 2 Read Online Free Page A

wanted something to blame, as well. She wanted reason and logic to hold onto. As the days and weeks crawled by, she realised that Tony, her husband, had become irrelevant. They ought to be rapidly working on creating a new baby, forging hopefully onwards, but they lacked the courage because they no longer trusted each other.
    None of which quite explained why Tony had been so hesitant about the divorce. In Simmy’s case, the very word came redolent of failure and humiliation. Nobody in her family had been divorced – not that there
were
many people in her family, anyway. Tony’s sister, Cat, had beenappalled at his behaviour. Simmy’s parents, proprietors of a bed and breakfast establishment in Lake Road, had held their breath and left her to work through it with relatively detached support. When she announced an intention to start a new life close to them in the Lake District, they had been uncertain as to the wisdom of that move.
    So far it was working out nicely. Always treated with fondness by her father and a somewhat careless approval by her mother, she was finally getting to know them as individuals in their own right. Angie’s insistence on following her own principles in everything she did was both inspiring and embarrassing. It also served to highlight the prevalence of brainless rules across every aspect of life, which Simmy might otherwise have overlooked, despite the discomfort they could give rise to. Her mother would not let anything pass. She had no personal objections to tobacco, muddy dogs, junk food or minor household dangers, and could see no reason why petty officials should try to force her to change. These officials all regarded such things with horror, especially those who took it upon themselves to regulate B&B establishments. ‘I don’t expect we can get away with it for ever,’ admitted her father, ‘but it’s going pretty well up to now.’ Indeed, there was a growing crowd of enthusiasts for the home-from-home atmosphere of Beck View in Windermere.
    The matter of Simmy’s divorce was seldom discussed. It had been assumed that it would come through eventually, and since neither party wished to remarry, there was no suggestion of urgency. Her father pointed out that there were unresolved financial details that might work against Simmy’s interests, if her business began to make appreciableprofits. She shrugged it off. ‘Tony’s not interested in money,’ she said. But now, at last, the whole thing was settled.
    She closed the shop ten minutes early, convinced there would be no more customers on this dark afternoon. As she carried the display rack in from the pavement, she thought again of Ninian Tripp, the potter. It would make a nice change, she supposed, to have some attractive vases carefully placed around the shop door, enticing people in. They would have to be stable, and relatively chunky – well weighted to prevent them from falling over. Nothing slender or too small. She stepped away to get a better impression of how they might look.
    ‘Careful!’ came a female voice behind her. It was Julie, one of the few people in Windermere she regarded as a genuine friend. Not because the general population was stand-offish, but because she was still new and busy with the business and had not quite grasped the social systems of the place.
    ‘Hi!’ she said, with a smile. ‘How’s things?’
    ‘Have you heard what’s happened in Ambleside?’ Julie seemed breathless, her eyes flashing with a sense of drama.
    ‘Not really.’ She had swept the story aside the moment she’d heard it from Mrs Weaver, anxious not to know anything about it. It had nothing whatever to do with her, and she lacked any wish to behave like a ghoul.
    ‘What does
that
mean? Either you have or you haven’t.’
    ‘Simply that a customer said something, but I took no notice.’
    ‘An old lady was done to death in her own house, in broad daylight. Everybody’s talking about it. It’ll be on the news.