Read Small Town Shock (Some Very English Murders Book 1) for Free Online Page B

can contribute to the … to the, er, gossip.
    There was a crash from the kitchen, and Penny sighed.
“Kali!”
     

Chapter Four
     
     
     
    Penny walked Kali early on Tuesday morning and then spent a
fruitless few hours on the mobile phone trying to organise getting broadband
internet sorted to her cottage. The previous owner hadn’t had a landline and
Penny was appalled to learn of the connection charges she was going to incur. Didn’t
these companies want her business? She was desperate to get online so she could
learn a little more about the community, and also about dog training.
    I suppose I’ll have to pretend it’s like 1990 or something,
she thought, sitting glumly in the living room with a half-eaten sandwich in
her hand. Back when we had to learn things by observation and thinking, not
just googling. Huh. When I was a student, it seemed easy. But I suppose I
didn’t know what I was missing.
    She was still trying to reconnect with her light and happy
mid-twenties self. She was doing this by listening to the music she had loved,
and dressing in bright, cheerful colours. Currently, some strange electronica
was wafting out of her iPod docking station and her stripy socks were
irritating her calves. Had the music really been this bad back then?
    Kali stared fixedly at the sandwich which was limping hanging
from Penny’s fingers. The dog’s unceasing glare started to unsettle Penny so
much that she didn’t want to eat the rest of it. She stood up and went to the
kitchen, and half-heartedly did some cleaning up.
    It was no good. She had to get active and involved. She
shook herself all over, just like Kali did, and ferried herself out to the mini-market
once more. She remembered they had a noticeboard of local events and groups. It
seemed like a good place to start.
     
    * * * *
     
    It was still overcast but the rain had eased overnight. She
was fed up of the long, drawn-out chilly spring now, and longed for summer to
make its appearance. She buttoned up her jacket as she approached the food
store. Partly it was against the cold, and partly because she remembered her
meeting with Warren and she wanted some kind of armour against his advances. No
doubt he tried it on with every new woman who came into the shop; she didn’t
flatter herself to think that his advances were directed to her alone.
    The gossipers had mentioned that David Hart had possibly had
a string of women, too. Was that true, or was it sour grapes on the part of the
beehive woman? Certainly, she never believed gossip about other women’s love
lives as it was invariably untrue. Though perhaps he really had been more
successful in his affairs than Warren was. She could only see the farmer’s
lifeless face in her imagination, and it wasn’t one that screamed devilish
attraction, though.
    The noticeboard was by the entrance and she kept alert to
the potential approach of Warren as she began to scan the posters. Upper
Glenfield Camera Club. Craft Group. Over-Fifties Aerobics. Gemstones for
Beginners with Reginald Artichoke. Was that a person or a pop group, she
wondered.
    A short, stocky woman was pinning something up and it was
only when she turned around that Penny recognised Cath Pritchard, the detective
constable who’d first interviewed her.
    “Now then! Hi, Penny, how are you?” She was dressed in a
comfortable looking long skirt and a fleece jacket that had gone bobbly with
wear. She was straightening her poster which appeared to be advertising some
kind of kitchenware party. Did such a thing exist? Penny wasn’t even sure. Foam
parties, yes. Dinner parties, okay. Kitchenware? “I hope your gruesome
discovery hasn’t put you off living here,” Cath added, stepping back to assess
her poster’s placement.
    “No, not at all,” Penny said. “I’m settling in well. Can I
ask … if it’s all right, I don’t know … how did he die? I overheard people
talking about suicide and all sorts of things.”
    “Huh, small town gossip,”