Since Ben and Joss Beckett took over The Fair Maid and Falcon, they have had to deal with ghosts, gangsters and well dodgy goings-on. Despite that they have their own family of twin daughters and dogs, and a fabulous ‘found family’ of friends.
The next few days were horribly busy, and our workload was added to by a few journalistic hopefuls, and a considerable number of ghouls. We’d have had to close the pub if it wasn’t for what seemed to be an inexhaustible supply of men and boys with hard hands and no sympathy for those who sought to undermine the serenity of the old orchard.
On the day the bones were carefully removed, our staff formed a guard of honour for the big plastic boxes that were loaded into the back of a van and driven away. I found myself with a huge lump in my throat and turned my face into Ben’s chest.
“She shouldn’t be in plastic boxes like she was recycling,” I muttered.
Roz appeared from nowhere and grasped my hand. “It’s all right Mummy, she doesn’t mind. And we can make her a better coffin when she comes back.”
I crouched down to her level. “Comes back?”
“Yes. Grandmother says she will be buried in the memorial garden. Me and Allie wants to plant a cherry tree on her grave.”
This was rather a lot to take in, but being a mother means taking stuff in and reacting appropriately.
“So you shall, my darling. But. Why a cherry tree?”
Roz gifted me a smile of blazing joy. “Because her name is Cherry.”
“Then a cherry tree it is.”
“Good, but it must be a proper fruiting tree not one that is just blossoms.”
Ben pulled his forelock. “It shall be as you command.”
Roz glared. “Stop it Daddy Beckett. This is important. Don’t make jokes.”
He was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, love, it’s just all a bit much.”
She patted his leg. “Never mind. Me and Mummy will take care of everything.”
I sighed inwardly and mentally straightened my shoulders.
Much later, when we had a few precious minutes of privacy, I leaned my forehead against Ben’s shoulder.
“And how the hell am I supposed to arrange a burial?”
He rubbed a big hand up and down my spine. “Seems like you won’t have to. The parish council has received a request to permit the private interment of the bones in the garden of remembrance. Wiser brains than mine deem it a bad idea to return the remains to the land of her fathers as it could become a rallying point for those who still seek violent solutions to their problems.”
I could see that. “But what about here? I’m not wanting this place to become a destination for paramilitary pilgrimage.”
“Me neither. But that has also been carefully thought through. The interment would be completely private. And there will be no headstone to mark the grave. Which is what makes the twins’ idea of a cherry tree about perfect.”
“Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Because Jack Ellis phoned me an hour ago. Wants the go ahead from us before replying.”
“It’s a yes then, ain’t it.”
I felt the kiss of a pair of soft lips on my cheek and a voice whispered ‘thank you’ in my ear. I replied in kind. ‘You will be welcome. You and your child.’
The sense of a presence receded and I felt myself wilting. Ben’s antenna was on point and he gathered me gently.
“Is it going to be too much for you? If so then its a hard no from me.”
I thought for a moment before shaking my head. “It’s actually not a problem, now I can see it in my head it’s bringing me peace.”
He kissed me tenderly. “That’s how I was feeling, but I wasn’t sure there wasn’t something I was missing. I know I miss things sometimes.”
I touched his firm jaw with just the tips of my fingers. “You never miss what’s really important.”
It would be nice to report that we sneaked off for a romantic interlude right then, but we were just too busy and too knackered. Instead we went back to work. I don’t think I lifted my head from the twin demands of payroll and VAT until my phone burbled merrily. It was Sian.
“Gruesomes are all ready for bed and waiting for their goodnight mummy kiss.”
“Isn’t it a bit early?”
“No, Joss, it’s not. It’s actually late. And I don’t suppose you have even stopped to eat.”
A look at the clock persuaded me she was right and I closed down the computer with a bit of a sigh of relief. I was just getting up, when Ben poked his head round the door.
“You finished?”
“For today. Yes. I’m just going over to kiss the twins goodnight.”
“I’ll come too.”
He wrapped an affectionate arm around me and all but dragged me through the garden to our house, where Sian waited.
“They’re pooped right out, but a bit wound up about someone called Cherry. They seem to need to know she is coming home.”
“She is. Cherry is the name of the woman whose bones they found. She’s going to be buried privately in the memorial garden.”
“That’s okay then. Now I’m off home. Mum made Irish stew at lunchtime, and she saved mine.”
She kissed us both and slipped away.
We enjoyed goodnight kisses, plus reassurance, and a story with our sleepy girls. It was quiet in their bedroom and the peace seeped into my soul. Ben closed the door with elaborate quietness and I put my arms around him.
“I wish we weren’t so bloody busy, because right now I’d give my eye teeth for an evening off.”
He grinned down at me. “An evening off is precisely what you are going to have. Ellen and Morgan and Simeon have the helm over there. You and me are going to put our feet up.”
I could think of half a hundred reasons why this was impossible, but when we turned into the comfort of our kitchen/family room there were candles flickering on the table and the good smell of food assailed my nostrils.
“Benedict Bennett.”
He laughed. “Wasn’t my idea actually. It was Morgan. Reckons you are worn out.”
“She could be right. Now tell me what’s for supper.”
His grin was properly schoolboy. “I stole a small steak and stilton pie from the freezer, and I believe we have new potatoes and salad.”
He sort of shepherded me to my place and I relaxed while he opened a nice bottle of claret and brought the food to the table. The food was excellent, but even better was a stolen hour with Ben, to eat, drink and remember how much we love each other. We finished the bottle of wine sitting out in the garden where the dogs stretched out in the dusty grass and we could watch the stars wheeling overhead in their celestial ballet. By closing time I was more than ready for bed and when Morgan ran across the sleeping garden to say she and Simeon would lock up I hugged her fondly.
“Thanks love.”
She grinned impishly. “Nada boss lady. It’s part of my job, and Simeon is busy softening you up so he can ask for a job here when his bodyguard duties are done.”
“What sort of a job does he want?”
“Anything that lets us be together. We want to see where what we have is going. And we can’t do that if I’m here and he’s elsewhere thugging. But if you want to know what he’s qualified for…”
“I do.”
“He’s quite a clever boy,” she chuckled engagingly. “Got A level maths and accounting, and he’s a bit of a computer wizard. But he says he’s happy to carry on pushing a mop should that be what you can use him for.”
Ben lifted a hand. “So why has he been working for Mark?”
“Because, unlike his own dad, my dad appreciates skills other than slapping people.”
“Yes. I expect he does.” I held out my arms and she came for another quick hug. “Tell him to come and see me if we ever get a lull in proceedings and we’ll work something out.”
She went, skipping like a young deer.
Ben looked at me. “You sure about this, Joss?”
“Yup. I was near to pulling my hair out at the thought of losing Morgan. Now we won’t have to. And I think Simeon will be an asset.”
Ben thought it through. “I reckon he just might. He could be my Morgan. I need a brain and a quick pair of eyes front of house. Unless you…”
“I hadn’t begun to think.” I had a quick ponder then nodded. “That would be a very good idea. You do need an apprentice and I think he has the right sort of monumental patience alongside a cool head. Also it’d keep him and Morgan busy without being in areas where they will bump heads over work issues.”
The crows feet around Ben’s eyes leapt to life. “I’ll take that to mean you think they’ll bump heads in their private life.”
“Course they will. Neither one is built to say ‘yes dear’.”
“They surely aren’t.” He chuckled. “He won’t be henpecked like me.”
I laughed up into his eyes. “And she won’t be a stay at home mum like me.”
He cupped my face in his hands. “If they have half of what we’ve got.”
The rest of that conversation is entirely our business.
There will be more from Joss, Ben and their friends, courtesy of Jane Jago, next week, or you can catch up with their earlier adventures in Who Put Her In and Who Pulled Her Out.
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