Murder under the mistlet.., p.21
Murder Under the Mistletoe, page 21
‘The noise of the extractor fan would have covered any sound she made, as well,’ I said. ‘And that light is really bright. Imagine finishing in here, turning the light off…’ I turned the light off, ‘and then stepping back into the bedroom, where the light was off.’
‘It was already dark in here, with the heavy curtains and everything, but after being in the brightness of the bathroom, it would have been absolutely pitch black.’ Nathan looked at me. ‘He must have blundered right into the sword.’
‘Yeah, you’re right.’ I looked at the floor between me and the bed. ‘Look, down here,’ I said. Steve’s discarded clothes were still in a heap on the floor next to the bed. ‘His shoes have been kicked under there.’
‘He had big feet,’ remarked Nathan.
‘And big shoes. Big enough to trip him up and send him flying onto the bed.’
‘And onto the sword.’ Nathan turned to me. ‘His own weight would have completely flattened the pillows and driven the sword right through him.’ He looked at the blood-stained sheets and shook his head. ‘Poor bloke. What a horrible way to go. It would have taken a little while for him to bleed to death.’
I shuddered, feeling suddenly tearful. Poor Steve. He’d only come to Kingseat Abbey and donned the red Santa suit because he wanted to help his son.
Nathan looked at me and pulled me in for a hug, much to the bemusement of DI Jones, who’d been loitering close enough to hear what we were saying.
‘Are you OK? I know you’ve seen plenty of dead bodies, but when it’s someone you were talking to only a few hours ago…’
‘I just… I was thinking about what must have been going through his head. Fear and bewilderment, and pain of course, but he’d also have been worrying about his son…’ I felt my eyes watering. ‘Being here on his own, knowing that he was dying, maybe trying to pull himself off the sword but unable to – not that it would have made much difference to the outcome, probably, but…’ I buried my face in Nathan’s shoulder and he pulled me closer. He spoke over the top of my head.
‘DI Jones, I think we’re done here. If you can arrange transport for Pippa Sykes back to Carricksmoor, I’ll be taking Ms Parker home. She’s helped us enough for today.’
‘Yes, Guv,’ said DI Jones. I waited for him to make some sarky comment, but he didn’t.
‘Get the Scene of Crime guys to pack up the victim’s belongings and take them back to the station for his family to collect. And liaise with the owner, Mr Manning, about getting this room cleaned. Give them the number of your usual crime scene cleaners.’
‘Yes, Guv.’ I pulled away from Nathan and looked up to see Jones watching me. He gave me a reluctant smile. ‘Well done, Ms Parker. My DCI back at Carricksmoor said if you were anything like your dad, you’d be one to look out for.’
‘Thank you, DI Jones,’ I said.
Chapter Eighteen
We stood in the hallway, watching through the open door as DI Jones and DC Carver led Pippa out to one of the waiting Range Rovers. A shocked Lily had followed them, and I was pleased to see Jones show a little bit of humanity and let her hug Pippa before gently ushering her away. He unlocked Pippa’s handcuffs and helped her into the back of the car, then climbed in next to her as Carver got in the front and started the engine.
‘They’ll treat her OK,’ said Nathan. ‘She’s not a murderer, even if she did cause someone’s death.’
‘What do you think will happen to her?’ I asked. He shook his head.
‘No idea. Prison, certainly. Low security though, I would think. She’s not exactly of sound mind, is she? She needs help, not just punishment.’
‘Poor Pippa.’ I sighed.
‘Jodie?’ We turned to see Isaac standing behind us.
‘How are you?’ I asked him.
‘I’m not entirely sure.’ He gave a small smile. ‘Feeling guilty, even though I genuinely didn’t know about Lee. He’s in the Royal Artillery, based in Salisbury, apparently.’ He looked bewildered. ‘And he has no idea who I am.’
‘Will you tell him?’ asked Nathan. He nodded.
‘I asked Pippa what she wanted me to do. She’s going to be away for a while, isn’t she? She asked me to visit him, explain things.’ He sighed. ‘Part of me’s dreading it, but part of me thinks it’ll be nice for Joshy to have a big brother. If he wants anything to do with us.’
‘It’ll work out,’ I said. ‘What will be, will be. Does Joshua know what’s happened? With Steve, and Pippa and everything?’
‘No.’ We all turned as James appeared from the kitchen, Joshua on his shoulders, clutching a chocolate Santa. ‘No, and I don’t want him to know, either, not until he’s older.’ He smiled as James said something and Joshua roared with laughter. ‘I’ve decided to forgive James, as well,’ he said, looking at me. ‘You were right, Jodie. We all make mistakes. He’s a good man. With a bit of guidance, he could be a great one.’ James reached us.
‘Are we OK to go?’ he asked. Nathan nodded. ‘Thank you. Sorry if I was a bit rude before. I was a bit stressed out. No excuse for being impolite, I know, but… Sorry.’
‘No problem, sir. Just be careful about borrowing money in future, yes?’
‘I am never borrowing anything again,’ said James vehemently. Isaac patted him on the shoulder.
‘Let’s forget all about that now. It’s nearly Christmas Day! Joshy is excited, aren’t you son?’
‘Yes, Dad,’ said Joshua, looking at Nathan shyly. Nathan smiled, making my heart flutter. He really would make a good dad.
‘I hope Santa brings you something nice, Joshua,’ said Nathan.
‘I hope he brings me a dog like Germaine,’ he said eagerly. I grinned at Isaac.
‘Oops. Sorry…’
We watched Isaac and James say goodbye to Lily and Trevor, then get into Isaac’s Porsche SUV. Matt Turner appeared with the stragglers from the forensic team, helping them with their equipment and bagged-up evidence. And then the breakdown truck turned up, with the girls’ hire car on the back, to give them a lift all the way back to their hotel in London.
‘What are you thinking?’ asked Nathan.
‘I was thinking, it just goes to show how important fathers are,’ I said. He looked at me, surprised. ‘Think about it,’ I said. ‘Steve was only here because he was worried about his son. He only took the job on so he could confront Isaac about him and get some help. He did that, but it cost him his life.’
Nathan nodded. ‘At least he knew that his son would be OK.’
‘I hope he did. Isaac reckoned he was steaming drunk by the time he went to bed. Then there’s James. His father sounds like a real piece of work. Imagine living your whole life, knowing that your dad thought you were a failure? Trying to prove himself to his dad nearly cost James his job and could’ve ruined his future. I mean, I always wanted to make my dad proud of me, but I never, ever had to worry about disappointing him. I knew that he’d love me, whatever I did.’
‘He was proud of you,’ said Nathan. ‘Your mum was talking to me about the way you and him were so similar, and she said he was even more proud of you than you realised.’ He took my hand and squeezed it.
I smiled. ‘What about your dad? I don’t know much about either of your parents.’
‘They ran a pub in Crosby,’ he said. ‘My dad taught me how to make a pint last all night, so I wouldn’t look like a lightweight in front of my mates but I wouldn’t get a hangover, either.’ He smiled as he thought about Mr Withers senior, who I hadn’t met yet but – if we were serious – I would someday. ‘The best thing my dad taught me is that it’s all right to cry.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. I remember one Sunday evening, watching Little House on the Prairie—’
‘I loved that programme! And The Waltons.’
‘Yeah, we watched that too. Anyway, in this particular episode, this bloke’s wife had died and they were trying to take his son away from him. My dad was in pieces, the soppy old bugger. Mum gave him a hug – she was completely dry-eyed, if I remember right – and told him it was just telly, and he laughed and wiped his eyes, but he wasn’t embarrassed. And he was a big man, my dad, used to throwing drunks out after last orders. And I thought, If it’s all right for him to cry, it’s all right for me.’
‘Aww, that’s so sweet…’
‘They gave up the pub a couple of years ago, when it started getting a bit too much for them. They’re semi-retired now, but they do a lot of voluntary work. Dad goes to the RSPCA a couple of times a week, and walks the dogs. He’s always loved dogs, but a pub wasn’t the right place to have one. Mum says she’s waiting for him to bring a couple home with him. She helps out at the local hospital, visiting the new mums in the premature baby unit.’
‘As long as she doesn’t take one of them home with her…’
We watched as the Japanese girls climbed into the cab of the breakdown truck, smiling and bowing and thanking everyone for their help all the way. Lily and Trevor said goodbye to them through the window and waved them off. ‘Everyone knows how important mums are,’ I said, ‘but dads… Isaac hated his dad, and that’s what made him leave home and make something of himself, but it also nearly ruined the way he brought up his own son. He was lucky to recognise that when Joshua was born. And of course Pippa’s husband – how could he not have known that their son was actually Isaac’s? He looked so much like him. But even if he did suspect, it didn’t matter, he still loved him and looked after him.’
‘Do you ever worry about Daisy? Not seeing her dad, I mean.’
I shook my head firmly. ‘No. I did at first, but she doesn’t need him. He’s useless, anyway. She’s always been surrounded by great male role models. My dad was a fantastic grandad, and of course Tony was always around, every time we came down here to see my parents. We might not be related, but he’s definitely her Uncle Tony.’ I smiled and looked at Nathan, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden. But I had to say this. ‘And then of course there’s you.’
‘Me?’ Nathan looked surprised, but (I was happy to note) dead chuffed.
‘Of course. She sees the way you treat me, with respect, and kindness, and consideration. You never talk over me, or make me feel like I’m stupid, like Richard did. You’re helping me show her what a proper relationship looks like. She won’t settle for some arsehole like him now. She’ll want a partner who treats her the way she should be treated.’ I gazed at him, knowing that I probably had a big soppy grin on my face, but not caring. ‘The way you treat me.’
Nathan smiled and reached out to gently touch my cheek. ‘You know why I treat you like that, don’t you?’
‘Because you’re scared of me,’ I said, thinking, Ooh, this is getting real now, act like a clown, quick!
He laughed. ‘A little bit, yeah. I prefer to call it having a healthy regard for my own skin.’ He pulled me towards him, his arms slipping around my waist and his eyes staring deep into mine. ‘That’s not the only reason, though. It’s because…’ He took a deep breath. Say it! I thought. So I did.
‘I love you, Nathan.’
He let out his breath. ‘That’s what I was just about to say!’
‘That you love yourself? That’s a bit narcissistic, innit?’ He laughed again and shook his head, pulling me into the doorway of the snug and positioning me under the mistletoe.
‘Will you just stop messing about and let yourself be kissed, woman?’ he said. So I did.
THE END
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Jodie ‘Nosey’ Parker will return in A Body at the Bake Off…
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Order your copy right here!
Jodie’s tried and tested recipes #4
Frangipane Mince Pies
Aah, Christmas! Is there anything better than the festive season? At what other time of year can you sit around in a tasteless jumper and pyjamas, eating a Terry’s Chocolate Orange for your breakfast, without attracting reprobation, censure and disapproval? I mean, OK, I did go through a phase of doing this every weekend when I first left home, and Debbie says she did the same (but with raisin and biscuit Yorkie bars) when she was a student nurse, but other than that – oh, and of course at Easter, chocolate eggs are definitely an acceptable alternative to cornflakes – but other than that…
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Christmas is a special time, a family time, and the food we celebrate it with in the Parker household is special, too. Roast turkey with all the trimmings – pigs in blankets (sausages wrapped in bacon, not actual pigs in actual blankets – weird), Yorkshire puddings (not actual puddings, although I think they may really have originated in Yorkshire, and not strictly traditional at Christmas, but we love them), sage and onion stuffing, roast potatoes and parsnips…all smothered in gravy. Some people go for a ham or a joint of pork as well, but that’s just greedy. But tasty.
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And after that, a flaming Christmas pud, rich and fruity (how Mum says she likes her men), served with lashings of brandy butter, custard, or ice cream (for the non-traditionalists), or all three (for those of us who love dessert).
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Because Christmas dinner is usually served early afternoon (if you’re proper English, it should be done and dusted by 3 p.m., when the Queen’s speech comes on the telly), by about seven in the evening you’ll probably start feeling peckish again, despite, no doubt, nibbling on that tin of Quality Street or Ferrero Rocher the neighbours brought round. And that’s where cake comes into it.
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We do the best festive cakes in Europe. The Italians have panettone, a sweet, fruity bread that’s so light you can actually eat a HUGE slice without feeling like a total pig. I can, anyway. The Germans – well, the Germans have pretty much got Christmas treats sewn up, what with gingerbread, stollen (one of my favourites), and lebkuchen. If you ever get the chance to go to a Bavarian Christmas market (or a branch of Lidl, in December), do it, but wear an outfit with a bit of give in it. Lycra and elasticated waists are the way to go.
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But for me, it’s not a proper Christmas until someone gets out the mince pies. These days, the supermarkets get them on the shelves in blooming October (next to the Halloween stuff!), so Christmas starts early for us, because I am addicted to them. My mum used to make them with puff pastry, and they would puff up so much they would practically explode in the oven, but they were delicious. It’s much more traditional to make them with sweet shortcrust pastry, but I recently found a recipe that tops both of these and, even better, can be used all year-round with different fillings. Try this recipe and you’ll be addicted to them, too!
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If you want to be really fancy (or show off), or you fancy yourself as the next Mary Berry (there can be only one), you can make this whole thing from scratch. Or you can be the next Jodie Parker and cheat/save yourself the time and hassle by using shop-bought pastry and mincemeat. Note for non-UK residents: mincemeat actually has no meat (minced or otherwise) in it. Back in the olden days, it did have minced/ground beef in it, heavily spiced, with added fruit, but at some point in time people went, Oh my God, minced beef and fruit IN THE SAME PIE? What are you, INSANE? and started leaving out the meat. So it’s basically just a mix of dried fruit with sugar and spices. The shop-bought stuff is pretty good, so unless you want the faff of making it yourself, cheat. But I’ve included a recipe at the end for fruit mince if you want to have a go (it’s nice if you’ve got the time and inclination, because you can change the ratios of the fruits if you prefer more of one than the other).
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Shop-bought pastry is pretty damn good too these days, and (if it’s a consideration), most of it is vegan (in the UK – can’t vouch for anywhere else). Again, if you want to make it yourself (and pastry-making is a good skill to have, and it’s not actually that hard) there’s a recipe at the end.
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OK, so here we go…this makes about 15–20 pies, depending on the size of your cupcake pans. Or you can make one large pie.
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Let’s begin…
Pre-heat the oven to 190ºC.
Line a cupcake baking pan with sweet shortcrust pastry. Remember to grease it first to stop the pastry sticking, or you’ll be hacking out your finished pies with a knife, sobbing, because they (and you) are in pieces and they just smell so damn fine… (Yeah, I’ve been there, my friend.) You can use butter or vegetable oil (don’t use olive oil, because it will change the flavour of your pastry). Another tip is to then lightly dust the pan with flour. The easiest way to line the pan is to find a mug or plate that is slightly bigger than the pan, and cut around it – this should give you the perfect-sized piece of pastry for your pie’s bottom. Remember, with pies (as with your own bottom), BIGGER IS BETTER! Because you can always trim it. Although my own bottom (and Debbie’s, truth be told) has so far resisted all my attempts to shrink it.
Fill the pastry-lined pie pans with fruit mince, or your preferred fruity filling. Fresh raspberries or blueberries go particularly well with this recipe. You can even add a thin layer of jam to the bottom first. Don’t fill the pans to the top – remember to leave room for the frangipane mixture.
Cream together 140g soft butter or margarine with 140g caster sugar.
Add 85g self-raising flour, 100g ground almonds and 2 large eggs and mix thoroughly until creamy and smooth. You can also add ½ tsp almond extract to really bring out the nutty flavour if you have it, but don’t worry about it if you don’t, it’ll still be delicious.
Top the fruit tarts with the almond and flour mixture, and smooth to the edges. Top with flaked almonds.
Bake for 20–25 minutes, until golden brown, and until the almond mixture is cooked through (insert a skewer into it, and if it comes out clean it’s done). It’s easier if you use a shallow cupcake tin, rather than a deep muffin pan, as the mixture cooks through quicker.
