Laura twisted her long hair into a knot at the nape of her neck, straightened her jacket, and hurried along the narrow pavement that bordered the village green.
An early morning mist clung to the fringes, softening the outlines of a pub and a squat row of terraced cottages on the far side.
The house she sought was hidden behind a high stone wall and separated from the road by a thick wooden gate with a security alarm beside it.
She pressed the button below the intercom and stepped back in surprise as a female voice barked from the speaker.
‘Who is it?’
‘Detective Constable Laura Hanway,’ she said. ‘I wondered if I could please speak to Angela Tasker about Felicity Gregor.’
A pause followed her words. ‘All right. Push the gate. Follow the path around to the back of the house.’
After doing as the woman told her, Laura zig-zagged along a slate gravel path and peered up at the Grade II listed home.
The stark bare branches of a wisteria curled around the porch over the front door and one of the windows, and a wisp of smoke escaped from a red-brick chimney.
Laura shivered and pulled her jacket around her shoulders as a cold wind whipped around the side of the property, then hurried around the corner to the back door.
A woman in her early sixties had her hand on the frame, her expression one of impatience.
Laura forced a smile. ‘Thanks for seeing me at short notice, Mrs Tasker.’
‘Come on, hurry up. You’ll let out all the warmth. And call me Angela.’
‘Sorry. Thanks.’
Laura brushed past the woman, surprised by her height, and found herself in an enormous kitchen.
A range took up most of the far end of the room, creating a cosiness that immediately warmed her cheeks. A large round pine table set off to one side was covered in newspapers that were scattered with broken pieces of china.
‘You interrupted my work, detective. Come through to the drawing room.’
Laura followed the woman along a narrow hallway, her gaze sweeping across the antique vases and old oil paintings while she tried to avoid knocking against anything, and then stepped into one of the front rooms.
An enormous inglenook fireplace was the focal point of the large space, and Angela gestured to one of two sofas set on either side of the hearth.
She sat, and heard an indignant meow before a black cat sidled into view from under a low wooden table piled high with glossy magazines.
Angela swept it up onto her lap and settled into the cushions. ‘Ask away, then.’
After taking the woman through the preliminaries of an interview, Laura settled into a familiar routine, her confidence seeping back into her voice.
Angela seemed to enjoy the process, her initial spikiness subsiding while she considered each question before answering.
‘How did you find out about Felicity Gregor’s interior design business?’
‘Not through that Insta-wotsit, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. No, I knew what she was up to via her mother, Isobel. Once I made the mistake of asking how Felicity’s new business was going, that was it. I was only being polite.’
‘Did you ask Felicity to do some interior design work for you?’
‘Yes, and that was a mistake. She really wasn’t that good.’ The woman’s nose wrinkled. ‘Not for what she was charging.’
‘Oh?’
‘Delusions of grandeur, that one.’ Angela shrugged. ‘But, what could I do? Her mother asked me to request the commission to help her out. I suppose she thought that if Felicity could take some photographs of what she’d done here, it might help her business gain some traction. Although I do think she was lacking some natural flair.’
‘How long had you known her mother?’
‘We went to university together. Studied English at Oxford.’ Angela sighed, her gaze drifting to the open fire. ‘Seems a lifetime ago now. Poor Izzy. To lose a daughter like that.’
‘When did Felicity carry out the work for you?’
‘She finished two weeks ago.’
Laura took a moment to look around the room, then frowned.
Angela held up her hand before she could speak. ‘I put the room back as it was as soon as she was out the door. Awful colours she used. Terrible.’ She sighed. ‘Still, as long as it helped, I suppose. Mind you, I could’ve done without the bill afterwards.’
‘She expected you to pay for helping her out?’
‘Well, she never knew her mother asked me to.’ Angela tutted. ‘No, that was all Isobel’s idea. I phoned Felicity to arrange the appointment. Before I knew it, the girl was turning up with all new cushions and bric-à-brac, and of course I’ll have to pay – especially now.’
Laura updated her notes before looking at the woman once more. ‘Would it be fair to say, then, that perhaps Felicity was better at sales than executing an interior design project?’
Angela chuckled. ‘That’s a very diplomatic way of putting things, detective, but yes, I’d have to agree there. This will sound awful in the circumstances, but I couldn’t see that her business would last long. It seemed more of a flight of fancy to me. Something to do to look busy, rather than actually being busy.’
‘When was the last time you saw Felicity?’
‘Hmm. I’d have to say that was Monday last week. She dropped off another godawful throw to drape across that sofa you’re on.’ Angela snorted. ‘Thank goodness I hadn’t stripped the room of everything she’d done the previous Friday – and that was only because I was busy with my own work over that weekend. I hate to think what she would’ve said.’
‘And what sort of work do you do?’
‘I restore antique china for clumsy owners these days, detective. And I managed my husband’s furniture restoration business for thirty years prior to his death.’ A wicked smile crossed the woman’s lips. ‘So you see, detective, I have quite an eye for interior design. I know when I’ve been had.’