Britton - The Newcomer

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Contents

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2019

Copyright Fern Britton 2019

Cover design HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019

Cover photographs D.G.Farquhar / Alamy Stock Photo (front cover) Shutterstock.com (all other images)

Fern Britton asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008225216

Ebook Edition March 2019 ISBN: 9780008225223

Version: 2019-02-19

In memory of my mum Ruth

19242018

Her stories were the best

Fern: My Story

New Beginnings

Hidden Treasures

The Holiday Home

A Seaside Affair

A Good Catch

The Postcard

Coming Home

Short stories

The Stolen Weekend

A Cornish Carol

The Beach Cabin

Published in one collection as

A Cornish Gift

Fern Britton is the highly acclaimed author of seven Sunday Times bestselling novels. Her books are cherished for their warmth, wit and wisdom, and have won Fern legions of loyal readers.

Fern has been a judge for the Costa Book of the Year Award and is a supporter of the Reading Agency, promoting literacy and reading.

A hugely popular household name through iconic shows such as This Morning and Fern Britton Meets Fern is also a much sought-after presenter and radio host. She has now turned her hand to theatre and is currently touring with Gary Barlow and Tim Firths Calendar Girls.

Fern lives with her husband, Phil Vickery, and her four children in Buckinghamshire and Cornwall.

To find out more about Ferns books and upcoming projects, visit:

/officialfernbritton

@Fern_Britton

www.fern-britton.com

T he evening before Mamie Buchanans corpse was found had been an enjoyable one. Her niece, the Revd Angela Whitehorn, had thrown a gossipy dinner party for her new parish friends, where it was agreed that her aunt was the most entertaining newcomer Pendruggan had ever had.

This may have been due to her rackety stories and her genuine interest in the lives of others, or, more likely, it could have been her inability to pour anything less than very large measures of alcohol.

Your aunt is an admirable woman, said a squiffy Geoffrey Tipton, the last guest to say his goodbyes on the chilly, moonlit doorstep of Pendruggan vicarage. My God, they dont make women like that any more.

Angela nodded in agreement. They certainly dont.

GEOFFREY! The voice of Mrs Tipton came from beyond the gate, making both Angela and Geoffrey jump. He turned giddily. Yes, my love. Just coming. He steadied himself with a gnarled hand on the doorframe. Was thanking the vicar for a splendid party.

You can do that in a letter. COME, commanded Audrey. She may as well have asked him to heel.

Geoffrey pushed himself from the doorframe and gave Angela a wobbly wave before staggering towards his wife.

Angela gratefully closed the door and walked to the kitchen where Mamie, the belle of the ball, was gaily polishing off a bottle of champagne.

Good God, she said theatrically, I thought theyd never leave. Last glass before bed? She pointed the bottle towards Angela.

Angela shook her head and started to load the dishwasher. Ive already had too much. Over her shoulder she said, You know Mike Bates is in love with you, dont you?

Mamie sank her glass in one. Yes. He told me. And who can blame him, darling! Her eyes twinkled with laughter. Im very fond of him.

Robert Whitehorn, Angelas husband, entered with the last of the pudding plates balanced in his hands. Mamie, you were outrageous. You mercilessly flirted with the dreadful Tipton man.

Mamie became her usual heartless self again and leant out of her kitchen chair to drop her empty bottle into the recycling crate by the back door. Me? she laughed. Poor dear Geoff. A frightful old bore but such a sweetheart. That gorgon of a wife of his is hard work. Mamie looked to the ceiling and raised her immaculate eyebrows.

Angela, taking the plates Robert was offering, gave her aunt a fond but exasperated look. You are a heartbreaker and you got everyone drunk.

And there was I thinking I was brightening the dull and unsullied lives of your flock, Mamie smiled impishly.

Angelas tired grin shifted into a yawn.

And you are exhausted, Mamie said kindly. You two go up to bed and Ill clear the last bits up.

Are you sure? asked Robert.

Mamie picked up a tea towel and flapped it at the pair of them. Youve got early church tomorrow. I can lie in. She kissed her niece and nephew-in-law affectionately. Off you go. Bed. Now.

Where does she get her energy from? Robert plumped the pillow under his head, his eyes already closing.

Shes always been the same. Angela lifted her legs onto her side of the mattress and pulled the duvet up. Always.

It was Angela who found Mamies body. She had woken at 3.20 with a post-alcohol thirst that needed at least a pint of water. In the dark, she had padded, barefoot and silent, to the top of the stairs and noted a line of light under her aunts bedroom door. She thought vaguely that Mamie was probably engaged in her usual nightly routine of make-up removal and meditation, so she decided not to disturb her.