The QWERTY Murders

  Chapter 1

  Pippa Parker stifled a rude word as the second alarm, the one labelled Go NOW, shrilled on her phone. ‘All right, all right, I’m coming,’ she muttered as she saved the document she was working on and closed her laptop. For today was Tuesday, and on a Tuesday, for reasons she had never fathomed, her mother-in-law Sheila couldn’t possibly mind Ruby after three o’clock.

  Pippa slipped her shoes on and grabbed her keys. Was it worth getting the car out? The traffic crawling past the end of the cul-de-sac said Fat chance. She set off at a brisk walk in the direction of Sheila’s house, avoiding the wet leaves on the pavement. Please be in a good mood, she thought, mentally crossing her fingers.

  Sheila’s wary expression lightened at the sight of Pippa, whose heart sank. ‘Oh hello dear. Gosh, is it that time already? Ruby, Mummy’s here!’

  The only answer was the faint noise of the television, which sounded as if it was broadcasting the sort of cartoon which Sheila normally termed a brain-rotter.

  Sheila tried again. ‘Ruby!’

  ‘I don’t want to!’ came the reply. On other days Pippa might have been proud that her almost-two-year-old could speak in complete sentences. However, today was not one of those days.

  ‘I’ll fetch her,’ she said, stepping over the threshold and bracing herself.

  Ruby was ensconced in a nest of cushions on the sofa, a packet of crisps in her hand, and eyes glued to the television. ‘Come on, trouble,’ said Pippa, unpacking Ruby from her cushion fort. ‘Time to fetch Freddie.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You weren’t wearing that when I dropped you off.’ Ruby was resplendent in a floaty pink dress with wings, tiara and wand.

  ‘Dress-up,’ said Ruby, dismissively, in an I-woke-up-like-this sort of way.

  ‘Whatever,’ Pippa replied, feeling sulky. ‘Now if you could magic us to school so that we’re not late —’

  Ruby let out a teenage sigh and put her arms up to be lifted off the sofa, clinging to her half-empty packet of crisps.

  ‘Thanks, Sheila,’ said Pippa, wedging Ruby against her and making for the door. ‘Must dash. Oh, where are Ruby’s shoes?’

  Sheila bent, with an effort, and handed Pippa the sparkly plimsolls which Ruby had been wearing that morning.

  ‘No!’ said Ruby, shaking her head emphatically.

  ‘What, so you’re going to walk through the village barefoot?’ Pippa replied, fitting one shoe onto Ruby’s dangling foot.

  Ruby kicked it off. ‘No! Fairy shoes!’

  Pippa gritted her teeth and dipped for the shoe. Ruby shrieked and her little fingers dug into Pippa’s arm.

  ‘Good luck,’ said Sheila, opening the door.

  ‘Where the car?’ wailed Ruby, flinging an arm at the vast inhospitable desert which was her home, Much Gadding.

  ‘At home,’ snapped Pippa. ‘Where I wish I was right now. Bye, Sheila. Enjoy the peace and quiet.’

  ‘I shall,’ said Sheila, grinning. ‘I feel a nice cup of tea coming on.’

  Pippa made an inarticulate noise and started down the path.

  It wasn’t far to Freddie’s school, but Pippa’s wriggly, constantly-shifting burden slowed her considerably. Ahead she could see other parents with their toddlers and preschoolers, all walking nicely, holding hands and wearing shoes. ‘See those children behaving themselves, Ruby?’ she said, resettling Ruby on her hip. ‘That’s what you should be doing.’

  ‘That’s lame,’ said Ruby, smugly.

  ‘Where on earth did you learn that?’ asked Pippa, but Ruby turned her tiaraed head away.

  And now the big boys and girls were walking out of the school gates and home. Pippa increased her pace and Ruby yelped, holding her tiara on with one hand. Several parents Pippa recognised from Freddie’s class nodded to her with sympathetic smiles as they led their children off the premises.

  Miss Darcy, Freddie’s teacher even though she looked as if she had escaped from an A-level course, was standing at the door to the reception classroom, holding Freddie’s hand. ‘Not again, Mummy,’ he said reproachfully.

  ‘Sorry, Freddie,’ Pippa said, holding her hand out to him. ‘Sorry, Miss Darcy. Her Majesty here wasn’t in the mood for walking. Or shoes.’

  Ruby wiggled her feet and stared at Miss Darcy, who appeared rather embarrassed. ‘I like your rainbow,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, um, thank you,’ said Miss Darcy, putting a hand to her long brown hair, where, sure enough, was a glittery rainbow clip.

  ‘Can I have it?’ asked Ruby, stretching out a hand.

  ‘No you can’t,’ said Pippa. ‘We’ll try to be on time tomorrow, Miss Darcy. Well, we try every day, but somehow we don’t ever manage it. Come along, Freddie.’

  ‘Goodbye, Miss Darcy,’ said Freddie, ever so nicely, and waved goodbye as Pippa shepherded him down the path. Miss Darcy waved back. ‘Can we go to the tearoom?’

  ‘Nope,’ said Pippa, ‘my purse is at home.’

  ‘Ohhhhhh,’ wailed Freddie. ‘But I’m hungry.’

  Pippa sneaked a glance as they turned the corner. Yes, Miss Darcy was still there, had almost certainly heard, and probably thought she was the worst mother in the world. ‘You’re always hungry. Will a chocolate biscuit and milk when you get home do?’

  ‘S’pose,’ said Freddie. But he said it with a grin on his face, and his getting-bigger-but-still-little hand squeezed hers.

  ***

  Pippa’s phone buzzed in her jeans pocket several times on the way home, but there was no chance of checking her messages; not with Ruby on her hip and Freddie chattering about his day. ‘An’ we did big maths, Mummy, and Miss Darcy read us The Gruffalo, an’ then we did paintings and Miss Darcy said mine was super-scary.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Pippa.

  ‘And I had spaghetti bonolese for lunch —’

  ‘I can tell,’ said Pippa, eyeing Freddie’s polo shirt, where splotches of red sauce competed with splats of brown and green and orange paint. Sometimes she wondered if the school had shares in a washing-powder company.

  ‘And chocolate sponge and custard for pudding.’

  Freddie paused for breath and Pippa dived in. ‘All that, and you’re still hungry?’

  ‘We did dodgeball this afternoon.’ Freddie closed his mouth with the satisfied look of a boy who has delivered a killer argument.

  ‘Ahhhh.’ Pippa fished for her keys and the phone buzzed again.

  ‘Can I watch MegaMoose please?’

  Pippa almost dropped her keys as well as her jaw. ‘Not SuperMouse?’

  Freddie shrugged and made a noise which could have been ‘meh’. ‘Jake says MegaMoose is awesomer. He has secret things in his antlers!’

  ‘Wow.’ Pippa got the door open and thankfully set Ruby down on the hall floor. ‘Is it on a channel we have?’

  ‘I’ll go see,’ said Freddie, and scampered into the lounge. Ruby pointed her wand at his retreating back, but thankfully nothing happened.

  ‘Kettle on,’ Pippa muttered to herself. She poured two beakers of milk for the children, put two small chocolate biscuits each on two plastic plates, and reached into the cupboard for her Buffy the Vampire Slayer mug.

  Buzzzz.

  ‘Oh come off it,’ said Pippa, and breathed in to retrieve her phone. The screen showed several messages, in reverse order of their arrival.

  Lila: I think flamingoes would be ace but would Lady H mind?

  Simon: Do we need wine for tonight?

  Lila: Parrots or flamingoes, what do you think?

  Serendipity: Could you call me, Pippa. Something’s happened.

  Lila: I found a shop on eBay that does grass skirts and flower garlands.

  Lady H: Do I need to pay the application fee first? Please advise.

  Jeff: Help
, Lila’s gone mad. She wants our wedding dress code to include grass skirts?!?!?

  Lady H: The venue application form came in the post at lunchtime. Would you be able to pop in tomorrow and help me with it?

  Pippa put the phone on the worktop, closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths.

  ‘MegaMoose is on the KidzFun channel!’

  Pippa’s eyes jolted open. Freddie appeared pleased. ‘Can I please can I?’

  ‘OK.’ Pippa handed him a beaker and a plate. ‘Is Ruby watching with you?’ Please say yes.

  Freddie nodded, and Pippa took Ruby’s snack through to the lounge, where Ruby was curled up in the armchair, both wings on the same side and her tiara crooked in her dark curls. ‘Wouldn’t you be more comfortable without the wings?’ said Pippa.

  Ruby shot her a scornful glance, then saw the biscuits. ‘Thank you Mummy,’ she said, with an angelic smile.

  ‘Cupboard love,’ said Pippa, and retreated to the kitchen. While the kettle boiled she got her thumbs busy:

  Lila: I suspect the grass skirts would be a bigger problem than the flamingoes

  Jeff: I’ll try and talk her down

  Simon: YES red please

  Lady H: Yes I can and no idea, will look tomorrow

  Life seemed to have become very busy all of a sudden. Pippa had thought she was busy before, but Lady Higginbotham had taken everything up a notch. The Much Gadding proms at Higginbotham Hall had financed the renovation of two shacks into respectable holiday cabins; Pippa managed the bookings. These financed further repairs on the Hall, which was now watertight, damp-free, and being decorated room by room.

  Lady Higginbotham’s latest wheeze was to apply for a wedding licence for the Hall. Pippa wondered if Jeff’s proposal to Lila at the first prom concert had put the idea into her head. If so, she only had herself to blame, but the potential stream of weddings made Pippa feel dizzy. Especially as Lila had hired her as wedding planner, and had her heart set on something different every week. So far Pippa had a guest list, and a date, and Higginbotham Hall as the wedding venue. Everything else was up in the air. Including whether the Hall would have its licence by the big day.

  Pippa sighed, drowned her teabag in boiling water, and chased it round the mug with a spoon. By comparison, Serendipity’s events were a doddle. Even the recent photo shoot for her first book had gone like clockwork, since Serendipity’s formidable organisation coupled with a week of beautiful weather had made everything a piece of her perfectly-baked rainbow cake (page 49). When the book was close to launch there would be festival bookings and press releases and media work; but until then —

  I wonder what Serendipity wants, thought Pippa. She made her tea, then stuck her head into the lounge, where both children were gazing at a moose with a satellite dish on one antler and a spork on the other. ‘I’m making a phone call, kids, I’ll be in the dining room.’

  Both nodded without turning their heads.

  Pippa reopened her laptop and found Serendipity’s bookings spreadsheet. Everything seemed to be in hand; in fact things were quietening down after a rush of summer fairs. She rang Serendipity’s number, and waited.

  Serendipity picked up on the second ring. ‘Oh Pippa, thank you so much for calling me. It’s — oh, it’s just awful, and I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ Pippa asked automatically, even though Serendipity sounded far from all right. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Nothing. Yet. But it will. They’ll make me, and it’ll be awful. Everything I’ve worked for —’

  ‘Who will make you? Make you do what?’

  ‘I can’t do this on the phone,’ muttered Serendipity. ‘Can I come round?’

  Pippa’s gaze slid to the wall dividing the dining room from the lounge. ‘Course you can. I’ll put a film on for the kids.’

  ‘Thanks.’ A small sniff. ‘It’s — You’ll probably think it’s an opportunity, but believe me, it won’t be.’ Serendipity already sounded defeated. ‘Is ten minutes OK?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘See you soon, then.’ And the call ended. Pippa drank some tea, then closed the laptop. Whatever Serendipity was upset about, it wasn’t her current work. I could do something if it was, thought Pippa, feeling helpless. As it was, perhaps a listening ear and a cup of tea was all she could offer.

  Chapter 2

  ‘A reality show?’

  Serendipity cupped her hands round her mug and studied the table. ‘Yes. Keeping Up With The Skeffington-Joneses. That’s the working title.’

  ‘But I thought your parents were dead against anything…’ Pippa racked her brain for the right word, ‘popular.’

  ‘They were,’ said Serendipity, gazing into her mug as if her fortune might appear at the bottom. ‘Until the roof fell in at Skeffington Towers.’

  ‘Is that the country house?’

  Serendipity nodded. ‘They’ve been told it needs to be completely redone, and as it’s listed —’

  ‘Oh dear.’

  ‘And what with putting all four of us through school and university, and the estate, and the house in London, and the one in France, and the horses… In short, there isn’t much spare money. Not without selling something. Apparently one of Daddy’s friends came up with the idea. He knows a TV executive, and he put in a word. So here we are.’

  ‘But you don’t have to be in it.’ Pippa patted Serendipity’s hand, which was gripping her mug hard enough to shatter it.

  ‘That’s the problem. I do. They won’t green-light the show unless I’m in three out of the six planned episodes. With at least ten minutes of screen time. For some reason they think I’ll be a draw.’ Serendipity’s tone was bitter as black coffee. ‘Bloody YouTube.’

  Pippa wished she hadn’t wasted her ‘oh dear’ on the listed roof. ‘So what is the show about, exactly?’

  Serendipity sighed. ‘My family’s posh country life; charity balls and riding to hounds and shooting pheasants. Not that they do all those things regularly, but they will on the show.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, and their disappointing daughter too, probably.’

  ‘I assume you’ve said no.’

  ‘Of course. But Mummy just said, “We’ll see, dear.” That means she’s got something up her sleeve. She said her publicist would phone me. Which she did, when I was on the way here.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘I don’t know, I didn’t pick up.’ Serendipity gulped a mouthful of coffee, then clanked the mug down. ‘Mummy tried to convince me that it didn’t matter. “No-one will actually watch it,” she said. And when I pointed out that the TV company wouldn’t be making the show if no-one was going to watch it, she laughed and said. “No-one we know.” Oh, and apparently all the rest of the family are looking forward to it. I’m the odd one out.’ Another sigh. ‘As usual.’

  ‘Well, I’m your publicist as much as anyone is, and your friend, and I say don’t do it if you don’t want to. And you clearly don’t want to, so don’t do it.’

  Serendipity looked at Pippa from under her eyelashes. ‘Does that mean you think I should do it, really?’

  ‘No!’ Pippa stopped short of smacking her own forehead. ‘What did I just say? Ring the publicist and tell her no. You’ll feel better, and the matter will be closed.’

  Serendipity said nothing, circling her finger round the rim of her mug. Then, softly, ‘I’m worried that if I ring her she’ll talk me round.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake!’ Pippa held out her hand. ‘Give me your phone. I’ll get the publicist’s number, call her, and tell her no for you.’

  ‘Would you?’ Serendipity asked, her eyes shining.

  ‘Course I would.’ Pippa snapped her fingers. ‘Phone.’

  Serendipity unlocked her mobile and laid it in Pippa’s palm like an offering.

  ‘Right.’ Pippa found voicemail and pressed Play on the last call, then set it to speakerphone. A warm, confident, smiling voice spoke. A voice which Pippa knew well.

  ‘Oh he
llo Serendipity, this is Suze Hegarty calling. I’ve just started working with your family, and we’ve secured a wonderful media opportunity which I’m sure you’ll love to be involved in. As it’s getting late I’ll try you again in the morning. Bye!’

  The message ended. ‘So will you phone her now and tell her no thanks?’ asked Serendipity, eagerly.

  ‘Um,’ said Pippa. ‘I’d better prepare myself first.’

  Serendipity’s face fell. ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘We worked together, she was my chief bridesmaid, and I put one of her ex-clients in jail. So yes, she’s a passing acquaintance.’ Pippa sighed. ‘I’ll still phone her. But it won’t be quite as easy as I thought.’

  ***

  Pippa waited until the children were fed and in bed before steeling herself to ring Suze. ‘Can we open the wine?’ she asked Simon.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Bad day at the office?’

  ‘I suspect it’s about to be. I need to talk to Suze. About work things.’

  Simon sighed. ‘I’ll fetch the corkscrew.’

  ‘I’ll be in the dining room,’ said Pippa. ‘If I don’t survive the call, there’s a microwave spaghetti carbonara for one in the fridge.’ She sat at the table, opened her notebook, wrote Call with Suze, and underlined it.

  ‘Hello Pip!’ exclaimed Suze. ‘Long time no ring! Hang on a minute —’ Clattering and fizzing followed, then a sudden improvement in sound quality. ‘There. I was in a lift.’

  ‘Of course you were,’ said Pippa. ‘Hi, Suze. Are you free to talk?’

  ‘Oh yes. I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes, but I’m fine till then.’

  Pippa glanced at the clock. 7.50. ‘At this time?’

  ‘PR never sleeps, Pip.’ Suze laughed. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I believe you’re working with the Skeffington-Joneses —’

  ‘Good grief, news travels fast!’ cried Suze. ‘Who told you?’

  ‘Serendipity Jones is a friend of mine —’

  ‘Oh marvellous! We can hang out on set!’

  ‘Um, I don’t think we can. She doesn’t want to do the reality show.’