Tea? Coffee? Murder! - Murder Most Sweet (eBook)

Chapter One, in which there is something unexpected for Nathalie and Louise

“Are we too early?”

Nathalie looked up from her desk to see Evan Joyce standing in the doorway of her office with fellow artist Belle Starr. Evan had let his hair to grow over the last few months and was looking a bit like Marc Bolan again. This was how he’d looked when he’d first turned up at Earlsraven less than six months ago, when he and his bohemian comrades had turned a big Earlsraven house into an artists’ commune. Belle Starr’s long hair was currently dyed bright green, but who knows what it might be next time — a sunny yellow or a metallic grey.

A glance at the clock showed Nathalie that it was almost five o’clock. “No, you’re right on time,” she said with a smile, and pointed to the two chairs in front of her desk. She nervously moved a curl of hair behind her ear.

“We’re both intrigued, Nathalie. What did you want to see us about?” asked Evan.

“I have a project to propose to you.”

“An art project?” said Belle, who was a talented painter and sculptor.

“No — well — yes, but not primarily,” Nathalie replied. “I don’t know if you know the empty shop over in Stapledon.”

“Wasn’t that a supermarket?” said Evan.

“Yes, that’s right,” she confirmed, “It’s been empty for a few years now.” Nathalie saw her cook walking past the office. “Louise, do you have a few minutes?”

The older woman with the distinctive silvery-white short hairstyle turned around and came into the office. “Sure. What is it?”

“I’d like to make a suggestion to Belle and Evan, and I want to talk to you about it too,” said Nathalie.

“Okay, but listen out in case they need me in the kitchen.” Louise walked round the desk so that she could take a seat in the chair by the window.

“Thanks,” said Nathalie. “Well, I’ll cut to the chase. I want to open a community supermarket in this shop in Stapledon.”

“What’s a community supermarket?” asked Belle.

“It’s a supermarket that only sells products that are grown, harvested and processed here in the area,” said Nathalie. “It’s not the supermarket that decides what goes on the shelves, but the producers themselves. The idea is that the supermarket doesn’t buy the goods, but only provides a space that can be used by the producers, like in a market.”

“So where do we come in? I mean … if they do everything themselves?” asked Evan, sounding a little disappointed.

“Well, the farmers won’t be there selling their produce themselves. I want to offer them a package to sell their goods for them. I’ll need a certain number of people to receive the goods, put them on shelves, keep track of the sales and keep everything in good condition.” She looked back and forth between Evan and Belle. “Is that something you would be interested in? There would also be another one-off task: the design of the supermarket.”

“Do you mean the front or the inside?” asked Evan.

“Both. I don’t yet have a clear idea of what it could look like. What I do know is that it shouldn’t look like a normal supermarket. We need something striking that will make customers curious as they pass through Stapledon. I’d like to ask you to come up with some designs.”

The two artists looked at each other, then nodded in agreement.

“Will we have a free hand?” asked Belle. Her eyes sparkled.

“Within the theme,” Nathalie hastily clarified. “It should have a connection to agriculture, and it should be recognisable as a shop where you can buy food. I don’t want anything that looks like a crashed UFO or a second Stonehenge.”

Evan nodded as if he understood the assignment, but Belle frowned a bit, proving that Nathalie had been right to put the brakes on any very outlandish ideas.

“So — if it’s feasible — can you come up with some ideas for designs by the middle of next month? And, also in that time, I need to know if you’re interested in the longer-term work in the market. Maybe others in your community might be interested too.” She handed Evan a piece of paper. “This is an overview of the positions that will need to be filled and the likely working hours. I’ve added the number of hours so that you can think about how you all could maybe divide them up.”

Evan and Belle looked at each other. For a moment it seemed as if they were talking via mind transfer.

Then Evan said, “It’s a totally crazy idea. It could be a disaster … I love it. I’m in. I can’t believe that you trust me … that you trust us all to make this work. I … wow … I don’t know what to say.”

“We’ll have to discuss it with the others, of course,” Belle added, “but I don’t think anyone’s going to turn this down. You’re giving us a real chance here, you know that?”

“Well, I believe you can do it,” she replied. “It’ll need a manager, of course. Ideally, I’d like to give a position like that to someone who has a degree in business administration. You don’t happen to know anyone, do you, Evan?” she asked with a smile.

“How do you know about that?” he replied.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. “Let’s just say I have my sources.” She avoided looking at Louise as much as possible.

“Interesting,” he said, while Belle looked back and forth between him and Nathalie. “What else have your sources told you about me?” he said.

“Well, if you only knew, Evan,” she replied in a tone that could mean anything, which was her intention. Let him ponder a little.

Suddenly a light went on for Belle. “You have a business, degree, Evan? Man, that’s so … so … orthodox.”

He turned to face her. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “I think it’s good. I wish I had something to fall back on if the art thing doesn’t work out.”

“You’ll get that at Nathalie’s market,” he said.

Belle smiled. “Absolutely. Thank you, Nathalie!”

Evan looked at Nathalie — his expression was hard to read. It was something akin to surprise and gratitude she thought, but there was something else and she was afraid to guess at what that might be.

*

After the two of them had thanked her again and said goodbye, Nathalie expected Louise to join her at the table. But the cook made no move to give up her seat next to the window. Instead, she sat in silence, taking in the view of the terrace in front of the restaurant.

“What do you think, Louise?”

After a few moments, Louise spoke. “A community supermarket,” she said, in an indefinable tone of voice.

“Not a good idea?”

The older woman looked thoughtful. “It’s a good idea, but … I mean … looking after a pub, café and hotel should be enough work, shouldn’t it?”

Nathalie shrugged. “I admit, at the beginning, I had rather ambitious plans for how I wanted to reorganise everything here and make it more efficient.”

“I remember that,” said Louise with a grin. “I was wondering when you were going to start.”

“Oh, ha-ha.”

Louise laughed.

Nathalie turned her chair round to face Louise. “Everything works. It’s not totally efficient, I still say that, but to change things — jeopardise well-established processes — just didn’t make sense.”

“A wise decision,” Louise said.

Nathalie had to laugh. “Yes, I got some advice about that from someone. I forget who. In any case, I don’t feel overworked because I have such amazing staff.”

Louise nodded. “No arguments there.”

“Besides,” she continued, “I’m going to hire a manager to take care of things.”

“And that’s really going to be Evan?”

“Maybe. That depends on whether he has the confidence to do it.”

“And what if he’s no good and you’re dating him?” Her lips curled into a mischievous smile.

Nathalie let out a little yelp. “Louise! Shut up! That’s not happening!”

“Just saying. You never know,” Louise teased.

“It’s nice to have artists in the community. I’m just trying to help them out and I think the area will really appreciate a community supermarket. It will only amount to a handful more figures to add to the accounts.”

“Speaking of numbers,” said Louise, sounding as if she had been waiting for an opportunity to make this point, “I have to speak bluntly about this. Are there jobs at stake here, including mine? Even if you think it won’t be much more work for you than before … isn’t it a bit risky financially?”

Although Louise was her employee, she had also become a good friend, so Nathalie was upset that she had caused her to worry about her job.

“Two weeks ago, I received a letter from a Spanish bank,” she said. “I found out that Aunt Henrietta had an account there in which a, well, let’s call it ‘a considerable sum’ had been invested for ten years. Those ten years ended at the beginning of January. I have access to that money now. I can use some of it to buy the old supermarket and refurbish it. After that, I think the running costs will be covered by the amounts paid by the farmers. That’s if everyone cooperates in the way I hope they will.”

“That’s great news. I can’t see why they wouldn’t want to be involved. The idea is good, the farmers will jump at it, and it’ll keep our troupe of artists busy,” said Louise. She looked thoughtful. “An account at a bank in...