CHAPTER SIX
“The nerve of the man!” Rosie was still fuming an hour later, as she and Charlotte waited for lunch at the bistro of the pub. True to her declaration, she’d closed the register and turned off the lights at the shop, leaving a sign on the door saying, ‘Back Tomorrow’.
“He’s full of bluff, Rosie. We’ve done nothing wrong.”
“But what if Octavia…” she lowered her voice and leaned toward Charlotte. “was murdered? He will come looking for an easy target.”
“Here we go, ladies. Are you sure you wouldn’t like something from the bar?” Their waiter was Henry, manager of the bistro. He’d been into the bookshop a few times and was responsible for several donations to the Christmas giving box Charlotte had set up. Henry was in his fifties, tall and fit and grey but with a love of life wh
