Abi stopped stirring and looked up. ‘Well, I don’t agree. I saw a figure and we’ve both described the same figure.’

 

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. ‘And sheds don’t just erupt into flames as someone walks up to them.’ She paused and gently sighed. ‘Monty, you were lucky you didn’t get hurt worse - or killed.’ ‘Who would I have been able to annoy then? Huh. Men are unbelievably stubborn.’ She lowered her eyes and sipped her coffee. ‘So bloody irritating.’

​

He smiled at her. ‘I think you’re being very unfair. There are many men out there,’ he nodded toward the door, ‘and you’d soon find someone else to annoy.’ He lifted his coffee mug and peered over the top. ‘Only joking. You’re usually right and always very sensible.’ He waited for a reaction, but she simply stared at him. ‘I’m just impossible,’ he added. ‘Sorry, Abigail.’

​

She shook her head gently in frustration. He shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. ‘Have the tablets helped – numbed the pain at all?’ she asked, noticing his discomfort.

​

He nodded. He was thinking about the work he had to do outside. The gruesome clearing up. He needed a distraction, and Abi brought him local news and gossip whenever she visited, news that was always delivered theatrically.

 

He’d made her early visits hard – treating her as though she was nosey rather than caring. But gradually the barrier between them turned into a bond. He now cared deeply for Abi, although he never told her. He simply hoped she knew. She occupied his thoughts more and more, much more than he ever believed another woman could. For a moment, he just looked at her. Suddenly he said: ‘So, what’s new in the village?’

​

Abi looked surprised. ‘Oh, well, let’s see,’ she glanced sideways and upwards, and then back at Monty, who sat opposite her at the kitchen table. ‘I’ll lighten the mood for a few minutes, shall I?’ ‘Yes, please.’ Monty sipped his coffee.

​

‘Ahh,’ she thought for a moment and then exclaimed. ‘I know. The vicar and the churchwarden.’

​

Monty smiles. ‘Sounds a hoot. What gives then?’ He leaned forward conspiratorially and said softly: ‘What have they been up to? Give it your best shot and don’t hold back on the intrigue nor the hot sex or politics, will you?’

​

She beamed back at him. ‘I’ll try not to.’ She wriggled in her seat and composed herself, and then she clasped her hands in front of her, resting them on the table.

​

‘The story goes like this. For eight hundred years, that old church of ours has served the good people of the parish. And across those centuries, little has interrupted its peace and spiritual role. Until now. We all know it’s a meeting place for the people who enjoy their gossip.’ She smiled. She loved to embellish, and Monty loved her storytelling. Her face came alive when she told him stories.

​

‘Go on, go on,’ he said mockingly. ‘You know I enjoy it.’

‘I know you do. I know. Well,’ continued Abi with an expansive wave of her arms as she looked upwards.

 

‘There’s been a hallelujah moment because this gossip, which captivates and intrigues so much so, is being hailed as the truth and nothing but the truth.’ She lowered her arms and clasped her hands on the table again.

 

‘The gossip mongers who embellish and refuel a rumour before sending it on another circuit of the roads, lanes, woods and fields have done themselves proud.’ She smiled at Monty, who chuckled loudly.

​

‘Now, as we well know, some gossip dies along the way. It’s too exhausted to carry on and of no further interest to most people, so it doesn’t make it back to begin another circuit.

 

Some gossip meets resistance, often complete denial and occasionally anger. Those in authority,’ – Abi raised a finger and adopted a stern expression – ‘or those hurt by its intent try to stop it in its tracks.’

 

She clasped her hands again and adopted a demure pose. ‘I could not believe what I was told - the level of sin the old church at Lower Winden has witnessed within its walls. I got this from the churchwarden. You know the one.

 

Grumpy bastard with the wandering hands. Not a moment’s romance in his tepid, insignificant life.’ Abi grimaced. ‘Also, the Vicar denies it all? Who did you hear that from, I hear you ask?’

​

Monty knew the game rules. ‘Who did you hear that from?’ He beamed at her. ‘Whatever that is.’

​

‘The pub landlord’s wife.’ Abi smirked and tapped her nose. ‘Don’t you know?’

​

‘Oh good. Reliable source then. Pub gossip’s always the best and most trusted – especially by people who drink a lot.’ Monty leaned forward. ‘What did you hear?’

​

‘The vicar’s got a girlfriend.’ Abi paused. She, too, leaned forward and then whispered. ‘And so has the churchwarden.’ She adopted a mischievous expression, ‘But the big thing is, it’s the same woman.’

​

‘I see,’ Monty said slowly as he took in the revelation. He didn’t know either the Churchwarden or the Vicar. ‘I wouldn’t know either from Adam,’ he said. ‘But tell me, I think I know what a vicar does. But what exactly does a churchwarden do?’

​

Abi looked surprised. ‘Really?’

‘Well, they’re like a mix of caretaker and keeper of the peace in and around the church, I think. And well behaved, upstanding pillars of the community. I’m sure that’s far too simplified, but you get the general idea.’

​

Monty nodded. ‘And the wanton woman. Do we know who she is? Not that I will. I don’t know anyone except you.’ He looked momentarily aghast. ‘It’s not you, is it?’

​

Abi rocked back in her chair, laughed. ‘Have you seen the vicar and the churchwarden?’ She leaned forward again, resting her arms on the table in front of her. ‘They’re rather old and at first glance, you’d think they were past it.’

​

Monty raised an eyebrow, and then slowly leaned forward, hands clasped on the table. ‘And your point is?’ He waited for a reaction.

​

It came. ‘You cheeky so and so. How dare you infer that? Remember,’ she pointed threateningly at him. ‘I know where it hurts.’

​

He held up both hands in mock defence. ‘OK, OK. I apologise.’ There was a moment’s silence and then he asked, ‘How old are each the free love threesome?’

‘Well, there’s the thing. They are all around 70. And if everyone is to be believed, a threesome is just what they have been on one occasion.’

‘How does anyone know?’

​

‘That’s just it, isn’t it? With village gossip, I mean. Just how does anyone know?’ Abi held up her hands. ‘Who knows anyone?’

​

He considered the last question. ‘Before you go on and give me everything you know about this sordid affair, can I ask you a couple of questions?’

​

Her expression changed. ‘Of course, anything.’ She looked at him with a rather serious and slightly quizzical frown.

‘How long have you been on your own?’

​

She swallowed and blew hard. ‘Wow. That rather changed the story abruptly.’

He looked at her. ‘With me, as you know, it’s three years. I’ve been here two.’​

​

​‘Three. It’s been three years. We were married for 10.’

Monty nodded slowly. ‘May I ask another question?’

‘Ok,’ she murmured. ‘If you must…’

​

‘I’m fifty-five. So, I guess that’s a lot older than you.’

Abi smiled. ‘Is that your way of asking me how old I am?’

‘I think it is. Sorry, I’m socially clumsy at the best of times.’

 Abi shook her head. ‘No, no, that’s OK. Forty-eight.’

​

‘Really?’ Monty’s genuine surprise was clear. ‘Forty-eight?’

‘Well, there’s no need to sound like that! How effing old did you think I was?’

​

He paused. ‘Perhaps 40 – no more.’

‘Oh,’ said Abi. ‘Sorry I thought you thought I was much older – even older than you.’ She chuckled. ‘My turn now.

 

You have never told me about how you came to be here. It’s like everything else about you – you skirt around the subject.’ She looked appealingly at him. ‘Or so it seems.’

​

Suddenly, he felt a sense of dread that she might leave. He pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. For a moment, Abi wondered if she’d angered him, then noticed he grimaced slightly as he straightened.

‘Are you OK?’ she asked.

​

He nodded briefly and then moved to the fridge, opened the door, and peered inside. He quickly closed the door and turned to her. ‘You’re in luck,’ he announced. ‘It seems I have enough for a makeshift lunch. Or rather brunch, given that it’s still early.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘Or even breakfast. Anyway, you can be my first table guest since I arrived.’

​

The sudden invitation took Abi completely by surprise. ‘Well, I’d like that. It’s a little early for me, but I’m probably hungrier than I think I am. So, if you’re sure…’

​

He moved closer to her and leaned down, placing his hands on the table. She felt overshadowed by his well-built, six-foot frame. ‘I’m very sure, young lady. I want to know all about the vicar and the other guy. And I especially want to know about the woman. She sounds interesting. Do you know where she lives?’ He grinned.

​

Abi threw back her head and meant to laugh, but she made a noise that sounded more like a grunt.

 

Embarrassed, she put her hand up to her face. Then she lowered it and glanced up at him. ‘You lecherous man – it’s all about the sex, isn’t it? That’s all you want me for; news about sex and intrigue down the road.

 

I’ll stay, for as long as I’m welcome, if you’ll talk about the shed and what we both know we saw. Just to be certain there’s nothing we should do. You know – the police and an investigation?’

​

He straightened and looked down at her. ‘Yes.’ He reached out and touched her face, then quickly pulled his hand away. ‘We can talk about it.’

​

‘Good,’ Abi exclaimed. His touch took her by surprise. She’d been in his company once a month for nearly two years, and always for only minutes at a time. He’d shown no affection. He was always formal but thankful, friendly but distant.

​

Monty pulled things from the fridge – some cold meat, cheese, boiled eggs, tomatoes, and pickles – and arranged them carefully on the table, in bowls and on plates. He produced a crusty loaf from the larder. There was already a bowl of fruit on the table, mainly apples from the orchard, and he made fresh coffee. Abi watched him prepare their meal. He seemed very comfortable moving around the kitchen.

​

‘Is there anything I can do?’ she asked.

‘Nope, it’s all under control. The great thing about bits from the fridge is that I don’t need to worry about cooking times,’ he grinned.

​

‘It looks great,’ said Abi, casting an eye over the laden table. ‘A proper feast.’ She continued to watch him move around. He’d changed, and it was probably down to the morning’s incident and his near-death experience. His load seemed lighter. Lost in thought, she hardly noticed when he took a seat opposite her. ‘So, tuck in.’

​

She stared at him. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘This is so unexpected.’

‘Yes, it is, isn’t it?’ He looked at her. ‘What shall we call this meal?’

​

‘Hmmm… how about a pre-brunch? I’ve been up since before six, so it’s not my breakfast. It’s an early brunch.’

He nodded. ‘OK, a pre-bunch it is, which we could shorten to prunch or even punch.’

​

Abi nibbled at a piece of cheese. ‘I like “prunch” the best. It sounds less violent.’

He nodded slowly. ‘You’re right.’

They ate in silence for a while before Monty moved to make coffee.

​

‘Monty…’ she began.

He stood with his back to her as he prepared the coffee. ‘Yes,’ he replied without turning to face her.

‘Who do you think the dark figure was?’

He carried on with what he was doing. ‘Honestly? I don’t know.’

​

‘Well, what did you see?’

He sighed and turned. ‘I saw a figure dressed in dark clothes hurrying away.’

​

Abi shook her head. ‘No – what did you see? Was the figure tall, short, light, heavy?’ she hesitated for a moment and then continued. ‘Could you see their face, their hair? How did they move?’

​

He raised his eyebrows and smiled weakly. ‘Well, Miss Marple – let me think.’ He looked down at the floor and then back up at Abi. ‘Now you come to mention it, they were quite…’ he paused for a moment. ‘Well, quite small. More your height than mine. Certainly not heavy. But I couldn’t see a face or their hair.’

​

‘OK. So, we’re talking about someone nearer five feet six rather than six feet something. We’re talking about someone perhaps wearing a ski mask and moving quickly.’

​

Monty pursed his lips and then looked at Abi ‘I think it was a woman.’

‘What makes you say that?’

​

‘The bum, legs – I don’t know. But there’s just something… I don’t know what… that makes me think female.’

​

‘What?’

‘I seriously don’t know Abi. But I don’t think many men have a figure like that. It was definitely a woman. Trust me.’

​

‘Monty, that’s seriously sexist.’

‘Perhaps it is. But it’s seriously what I saw.’