Murder On Bwytheney by Elizabeth. Newby (phonics story books TXT) 📗

of some gossip, people are always looking for something else, waiting for you to slip up again. And sadly, poor Melissa became an easy target. Every time she was seen as much as talking to another man, the rumours started. She got labelled the village bike.”

“Oh, that’s horrid. Poor Melissa.”

"It was horrid. The best thing she could have done was to ignore them and kept her head down. But instead…"

“What? What happened?”

“This is not to be repeated anywhere. It’s old island news anyway.”

“Of course…”

“Well, there were rumours that she had an affair with Matthew.”

“Matthew? Matthew that lives next door to her?”

“Yes, that Matthew.”

“But he’s like twenty years older. And…wouldn’t he have been married to Bronwen by then?”

"Mmm-hmm."

“And was it just rumours?”

“Only they know for sure. I did see them together once up at Brynness, out for a walk. They weren’t doing anything, but it didn’t seem right, them being together, you know?”

“Gosh, what happened next?”

"Nothing, really. Melissa kept her head down and grew up. There's been a couple of boyfriends over the years since, but none that went anywhere. She went to the mainland for a bit but came back to the campsite. To be honest, I think her dad was struggling to run it on his own. She worked really hard to make it what it is today. Maybe she was so busy running that place that she never stopped to find someone or have a family. So sad.”

“I’ve still got so much to learn about life on Bwytheney.”

“Ha, you have, and you shall hear all of it in good time. Don’t forget that you’ve promised me that you won’t let the history of this place just disappear into a grave with me. And one day, it’ll be your turn to pass it onto someone else.”

“And it’s a promise I shall keep, don’t you worry about that, Beryl.”

I couldn’t help but wonder how many other secrets were hiding in Bwytheney and its older residents.

Chapter 9

It was Saturday afternoon, and as usual, Shadow and I started the day with our walk along the beach, passed the harbour and along the clifftops.  When you reach the cliffs, there are benches at various points alongside the path where you could stop and take in the view. Weekends meant more time to enjoy walks and the outdoors.

On our way back, I perched myself on a bench and pulled a flask out of my backpack. With a hot cup of coffee in hand, I could relax and take in the beauty of my surroundings while Shadow sniffed every inch of grass, inspecting it for scents of other dogs. It was one of those spring mornings where the sky was a deep blue, the breeze cool and the sun comforting. Later in the summer, days like this would make for a hot walk, but this was perfect.

We weren't far from the harbour that lay below. Bobbing on the sea were an array of rowing boats, fishing vessels and small yachts. There was even the odd jet ski sitting next to the holiday boat hires. You could just make out the short queue of people waiting near the jetty. Most were probably heading to Liverpool on the mainland. Although you could also travel from here to Rhyl in North Wales or the other islands.

I was overdue a visit to the mainland. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I last made that trip. While I loved island life and could never imagine leaving, I still had friends and family I valued across the north of England. They didn’t understand my desire to live here but didn’t complain when they got to come and stay for a free holiday.

Coffee finished, I replaced my flask and called Shadow over. Saturday was also when I treated myself to a bacon sandwich from Ron's Rolls next to the harbour. He always had a spare bit of sausage for Shadow too.

As we wound our way down the path from the cliffs to the harbour below, the smell of bacon and sausages wafted over. We lined up in the queue and were soon joined by Larry. He owned one of the boat taxis that ferried people over to the mainland. He lived further up the coastland in a house that was reached by a mile-long track. There were no other homes in view from his – just the wide-open sea and some trees. Not being a morning person, Larry tended to work the late shift and was often on over the weekend.

“Hey Larry, how are you?”

“Cara, I didn’t see you there. And fancy seeing you here too, Shadow. Waiting for a bit of sausage by any chance?”

“Of course,” I replied with a grin, “about to start work, I take it?”

“Yep. No rest for the wicked, ha.”

“Well, I hope it’s not too busy or messy for you this weekend. But give me the gossip on Pete last week, so I can tease him next time I see him.”

"Hahahaha, that poor lad. But I don't have anything you can use, I'm afraid."

"Oh, that's a shame. When he said he was out with his mates last Sunday, I got the impression it got a bit messy. I was sure you were going to tell me he threw up all over your boat."

“Ha! Well, there will be no boat stories from Sunday night as they weren’t running. There was that terrible storm, remember?”

“Are you sure? There were no boats running?”

I'm sure. No one in their right mind would have taken a boat out in that. It was more likely Friday or Saturday. I haven't seen him for weeks, though. Ask Neil. He was working at the weekend too, and he loves sharing a story."

“He does indeed.”

As I walked home, I could feel the frown on my face. My grandmother would have told me off, "if the wind changes, your face will be stuck like that". It was just one of the many old wives' tales she used to dish out. But I