Jude looked at her friend, wary of another gibe about ‘Mail Order Brides’. But there wasn’t. Instead, Carole stood up briskly and said, ‘I see your glass is empty. Can I get you another?’

‘You going to have one?’

‘I’ll probably just have a coffee.’

‘Will you?’ Jude looked at Carole again, a small smile lurking round the corner of her mouth. It had the desired effect. Carole said, ‘No, I’ll have another Sauvignon Blanc.’ And they both went up to the bar.

This was partly because Ted Crisp had just appeared from the kitchen. Jude had given their first drinks order to Zosia, his Polish bar manager, but now the landlord was there, in his winter garb of faded sweatshirt and jeans. Maybe in acknowledgement of the cold weather, his beard hadn’t been trimmed for a long time. Carole wanted to give him her news. ‘Have you heard what’s happened up at Shefford’s, Ted?’

‘That Bill Shefford’s had an accident in his inspection pit and died? Yes, I heard about it.’

That was the infuriating thing about Fethering, Carole fumed inwardly. Even if you were the sole witness of an event in the village, it was almost impossible to be the first to tell people. There was a strange telepathy, a kind of bush telegraph, that spread news – particularly bad news – at a speed which most broadband providers could only aspire to. And which regularly frustrated Carole’s attempts get there first.

‘And,’ Ted went on, ‘I haven’t yet had the lunchtime rush of conspiracy theorists.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh, come on, Carole. Man dies in suspicious circumstances in Fethering – only a matter of time before half the village have come in here with their ideas of who murdered him.’

‘But he wasn’t murdered. It was an accident.’

‘I’m sure it was. But how many people in Fethering are going to believe that? Anyway, how do you come to be so well informed?’

‘Because I was actually at Shefford’s when the accident happened.’

‘Were you? Respect.’ He nodded his head appropriately. ‘So, we’ve got someone in the Crown and Anchor who has an informed opinion about what actually happened in a case of unnatural death. That has to be a first.’

‘I don’t know why you call it “unnatural death”.’

‘Having a gearbox fall on your head could hardly be described as “natural”, Carole, could it?’

‘Well, maybe not.’

‘And from what I’ve heard, there are a few people who could benefit from poor old Bill Shefford being out of the way.’

‘What do you mean – from what you’ve heard?’ asked Jude.

‘I hear a lot in here. Apart from anything else, Billy Shefford’s quite a regular of an evening. And he doesn’t keep his opinions to himself. To put it mildly, he’s not a fan of his stepmother.’

‘Or his mother-in-law?’ Jude suggested.