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Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

Clutterbuck and Postlethwaite Investigate

George Beecham made his way into the parlour whilst working his way through the post. A wad of large envelopes was held securely under one arm as he rifled through several smaller ones in his hands. With the shop being busy during the week, he tended to leave Saturday’s post until Sunday morning, giving him ample time to address any pressing matters.

‘If bills were paycheques we’d be millionaires,’ he said to Maureen as he sat down at the kitchen table.

‘We’re not doing too badly,’ she smiled, placing a mug of tea in front of him and kissing the top of his balding head. ‘Things have been worse.’

‘Indeed they have,’ Mr Beecham said softly and sipped his tea. He smacked his lips. ‘Nice brew, love. Almost as good as the one Thomas brought us in bed earlier. Well, what I managed to salvage after I dropped it in shock.’

‘It’s going to take a few washes to get the tea stain out of the duvet.’

‘Look on the bright side,’ George Beech
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