Tea with Milk and Murder (Oxford Tearoom Mysteries ~ Book 2) by H.Y. Hanna Read Free Book Online Page B
Book: Tea with Milk and Murder (Oxford Tearoom Mysteries ~ Book 2) by H.Y. Hanna Read Free Book Online
Authors: H.Y. Hanna
best, darling. In fact, I saw this wonderful headscarf online—shall I get it for you? They do same-day delivery.”
I looked at her in alarm. “No thanks, Mother.” Hurriedly, I changed the subject. “Did you give Muesli her dinner?”
My mother’s face softened slightly. “Yes, and I must say, that little cat is extremely naughty. She darted past my legs and ran downstairs before I could stop her.”
I looked quickly around the living room. “Did you get her back?”
“Yes, yes, I managed to entice her back into your room with some tuna.” My mother sighed. “I do feel a bit sorry for her—poor little thing—cooped up in your bedroom all day.”
“Yeah, well, you know she’s used to having the run of the house in her previous home.” I looked at my mother hopefully. “Maybe we could try letting her out…?”
“But wouldn’t she scratch the furniture?”
I looked around the living room and sighed. My mother was right. Muesli would make mincemeat of the cream silk damask covers on the sofa suite, not to mention the matching curtains. I wouldn’t have cared myself, but living as I was back in my parents’ house, I didn’t feel that it was fair to them. It had been one of the things I had promised my mother when I told her I was adopting Muesli—that the cat wouldn’t cause any trouble.
And it would only be for a little while longer , I told myself. Hopefully, if business continued to go well at the tearoom, I would soon be able to afford a place of my own and then Muesli could shred whatever she pleased…
Five minutes later, the little tabby cat herself came running up to greet me as I entered my bedroom. Her tail was straight up like a flagpole and she vibrated the end of it in greeting as she rubbed herself against my legs. I had to admit, despite never having been a cat person, I was beginning to enjoy the feline welcome I received every time I returned.
“Hiya, Muesli,” I said, reaching down to rub her chin.
She purred like a little engine and butted her head against my shins. I scooped her up and cuddled her close, walking over to look out the window. My bedroom overlooked the rear of the house, with a view of our own garden and part of the Walthams’ property, which was the last one on the street corner and twice the size of ours. I could see light spilling out of the rear windows next door.
I wondered if Devlin might have finished questioning Mrs Walton by now, then I thought of the party again. Could it really only have been a few hours ago? And Sarah—so brash and alive then. It seemed incredible to think that she was dead and even more incredible to think that it could have been murder.
CHAPTER SIX
I had a restless night, tossing and turning, plagued by dreams of pink cocktails and strange paintings and then finally a large teapot landing on my chest… its weight suffocating me… and it was rumbling like an engine…
Huh?
I awoke with a start and found myself staring into a pair of green eyes above a little pink nose in a whiskered face.
“Muesli…” I mumbled. “Get off my chest…”
“ Meorrw! ” she said.
For such a small cat, she seemed to weigh a ton. I pushed her off and sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. From the darkness showing through the gap between my curtains, I knew it must have still been very early. Early enough that my alarm hadn’t sounded yet. I groaned and lay back down, pulling the covers over me and attempting to go back to sleep. Muesli climbed over the blankets until she reached my ankles and draped herself over them. The rumbling started again. I lay there for another ten minutes, listening to her purring. Finally I gave up and sat up.
Muesli looked at me eagerly and said, “ Meorrw? ”
I sighed. I knew what she wanted. Although I provided her with a litter tray in the room, Muesli preferred to go outside and would hold it until she was bursting. I knew she wanted to get on with our usual morning ritual, when I took
I looked at her in alarm. “No thanks, Mother.” Hurriedly, I changed the subject. “Did you give Muesli her dinner?”
My mother’s face softened slightly. “Yes, and I must say, that little cat is extremely naughty. She darted past my legs and ran downstairs before I could stop her.”
I looked quickly around the living room. “Did you get her back?”
“Yes, yes, I managed to entice her back into your room with some tuna.” My mother sighed. “I do feel a bit sorry for her—poor little thing—cooped up in your bedroom all day.”
“Yeah, well, you know she’s used to having the run of the house in her previous home.” I looked at my mother hopefully. “Maybe we could try letting her out…?”
“But wouldn’t she scratch the furniture?”
I looked around the living room and sighed. My mother was right. Muesli would make mincemeat of the cream silk damask covers on the sofa suite, not to mention the matching curtains. I wouldn’t have cared myself, but living as I was back in my parents’ house, I didn’t feel that it was fair to them. It had been one of the things I had promised my mother when I told her I was adopting Muesli—that the cat wouldn’t cause any trouble.
And it would only be for a little while longer , I told myself. Hopefully, if business continued to go well at the tearoom, I would soon be able to afford a place of my own and then Muesli could shred whatever she pleased…
Five minutes later, the little tabby cat herself came running up to greet me as I entered my bedroom. Her tail was straight up like a flagpole and she vibrated the end of it in greeting as she rubbed herself against my legs. I had to admit, despite never having been a cat person, I was beginning to enjoy the feline welcome I received every time I returned.
“Hiya, Muesli,” I said, reaching down to rub her chin.
She purred like a little engine and butted her head against my shins. I scooped her up and cuddled her close, walking over to look out the window. My bedroom overlooked the rear of the house, with a view of our own garden and part of the Walthams’ property, which was the last one on the street corner and twice the size of ours. I could see light spilling out of the rear windows next door.
I wondered if Devlin might have finished questioning Mrs Walton by now, then I thought of the party again. Could it really only have been a few hours ago? And Sarah—so brash and alive then. It seemed incredible to think that she was dead and even more incredible to think that it could have been murder.
CHAPTER SIX
I had a restless night, tossing and turning, plagued by dreams of pink cocktails and strange paintings and then finally a large teapot landing on my chest… its weight suffocating me… and it was rumbling like an engine…
Huh?
I awoke with a start and found myself staring into a pair of green eyes above a little pink nose in a whiskered face.
“Muesli…” I mumbled. “Get off my chest…”
“ Meorrw! ” she said.
For such a small cat, she seemed to weigh a ton. I pushed her off and sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. From the darkness showing through the gap between my curtains, I knew it must have still been very early. Early enough that my alarm hadn’t sounded yet. I groaned and lay back down, pulling the covers over me and attempting to go back to sleep. Muesli climbed over the blankets until she reached my ankles and draped herself over them. The rumbling started again. I lay there for another ten minutes, listening to her purring. Finally I gave up and sat up.
Muesli looked at me eagerly and said, “ Meorrw? ”
I sighed. I knew what she wanted. Although I provided her with a litter tray in the room, Muesli preferred to go outside and would hold it until she was bursting. I knew she wanted to get on with our usual morning ritual, when I took