A Village Mystery

Chapter 4 - New Feelings, New Ideas

Nigel approached the gift shop door and hesitantly rang the bell. He could see Lynda silhouetted in the light coming from her quarters at the back of the shop. She opened the door, smiling and stepped out, locking it behind her.

"Good evening, Sergeant."

He shifted between a nod and a half bow. "Nigel is fine; I get Sergeant all day long."

"Nigel it is. I just wondered if we were beginning again more formally." She took his arm, squeezed it and giggled softly. "Because you started to bow, Nigel."

This time she laughed as he opened the car door and saw her in.

He climbed into the driver's seat, starting the engine. "I told you I was all thumbs and tied tongues."

"Are you sure you can drive?"

He took in her teasing smile with a resigned embarrassment.

"Where are we going?"

"There's quite a nice little inn with an excellent menu over in Hexley; I thought we might try that."

"I've never been to Hexley; is it far?"

"Fifteen minutes about. It's a nice drive in the daytime."

"You've been there I take it."

"Once. I was escaping from journalists from the city about a case we were working."

"Kleinhams?"

He looked at her. "As a matter of fact. What made you think of them?"

"I just assumed . . . I remember the media circus that came to the village."

"Circus is right. I felt badly for the family actually." Nigel shifted in his seat and stayed silent for a stretch. "There, you can see the lights from Hexley through those trees."

"Oh-- is it a large place?"

"Just a little larger than Merryvale; not much."

They pulled into the parking area and walked to the inn portico. Inside was all soft amber lighting reflecting warmly from the rug brick walls. Intimate tables bearing deep red tablecloths were positioned randomly about the large room. The cutlery and china blinked in the light of the table candles.

A young lady with a ponytail and an apron the same colour as the tablecloths showed them to a quiet corner and left them with food and drink menus.

"This is lovely, Nigel . . . very romantic."

He was thankful for the level of lighting as he fumbled open the drink menu. "Would you ah, like a cocktail or some wine? I'll probably just have an--"

"Wine, I think. This setting calls out for a nice sip of red. What did you suggest?"

"Uh, wine. Absolutely a-- pinot noire?"

"Perfect. This place is so nice, Nigel. Is it a real inn or just a dining room?"

"Real. It's been here a very long time. They have about a dozen rooms to let."

"Hmmm."

He frowned and put the menu down as the young lady returned for their order.

********

The candle was guttering and a man swept up to the table with a fresh one, asking how the dinner was and swishing away without waiting for more than a word.

"The meal was lovely, Nigel . . . in spite of his lack of concern. Thank you."

"Well it's not over," Her eyebrows lifted, surprised. "How about an aperitif or some coffee. Tea?"