they were no closer to finding out who was behind it. Whoever had thrown that brick made sure they covered their tracks well.
‘What am I going to do, Em? This has all got badly out of hand.’
Emily nudged Marla’s glass closer. ‘Drink your medicine. It helps.’
Uncharacteristically, Marla did as she was told. She was tired. Exhausted, in fact. Going over to the funeral parlour this afternoon with her tail between her legs ranked up there amongst the most toe-curling moments of her life. She’d haltingly tried to explain to Gabe what she’d learned from Jonny, but it had been pretty clear from the arctic frost emanating from him that he hadn’t believed a single word she’d said. He’d decided she was complicit from the get-go, and no amount of assurances to the contrary had made any difference.
She could only thank her lucky stars that Gabe had decided against calling the police, even though he’d made it patently clear that his decision was for his own benefit rather than hers. Such drama was wholly inappropriate for a funeral parlour, and he just wanted it sorted out and forgotten as quickly as possible so that he could run his business without being on the front page of the newspaper for all of the wrong reasons again.
Things had gone from bad to hideous when a photographer from The Herald had turned up, having received an anonymous tip-off that there might be a story going down. Gabe had turned hostile, convinced that she’d called them herself to get more campaign coverage, by which point Marla had been too battered down to argue.
His evil receptionist had enjoyed the chance to practically throw her out onto the street, where even Dora had eyed her reproachfully as she swept up the glass on the pavement.
‘Jonny’s pretty cut up you know,’ Emily offered, swirling her wine around in her glass.
Marla shook her head and sighed. She and Jonny were chalk and cheese, yet somehow it worked and they’d become close friends as well as colleagues. Up until this afternoon, anyway. She hadn’t been able to hide her disgust when he’d showed her what was going on online, and though it was clear he realised with horror exactly how much jeopardy he’d placed the chapel in, it had been all she could do not to fire him on the spot. As it was, she’d sent him home to pull their website offline completely, and to retrace his steps, wiping absolutely every hint of the campaign from the net.
‘I’ll talk to him in the morning. If I ring him now I’ll say something I regret.’
Emily nodded.
‘How did you leave it with Gabe?’
Marla’s shoulders slumped even more.
‘I’m officially the wicked witch of the west over there.’
Marla couldn’t bear the fact that she’d lost her moral high ground. The village would turn against her pretty quickly if they believed that she would resort to mob tactics.
‘He definitely didn’t believe you?’
Marla shook her head. ‘Can you blame him? I wouldn’t believe me.’
Emily squeezed her friend’s hand.
‘It’ll be okay – honestly, it will. People around here know you a lot better than he does.’
Marla nodded and clung to Emily’s pragmatic common sense. ‘God, I hope so Em. I really hope so.’
‘What time is the gorgeous Rupert coming?’
Marla glanced at the big brass clock behind the bar.
‘Anytime now.’
The sooner the better as far as Marla was concerned. She was badly in need of a little TLC after the bashing she’d received from Gabe this afternoon.
They both looked up as the door swung open on cue, but it was Tom, not Rupert, who came in. He ruffled Marla’s hair as he squeezed behind her seat, beer in his hand.
‘Bad day at the office I hear, sweetheart.’
‘Yeah. Just a bit.’
His easy affection brought a lump to Marla’s throat. Tom was just about the nicest man in the world, and Emily was a lucky girl to have him. He obviously adored her, given the way he leaned in to kiss her lingeringly on the mouth as he pulled his chair in close.
Such a fleeting gesture, yet so laden with love that Marla had to look away.
The door swung again, and this time she wasn’t disappointed. Rupert shot her a cheeky grin as he sauntered over to their table and pulled up a chair.
‘Marla Jacobs, I didn’t know you had it in you. I am seriously impressed.’
He laughed and held his hand in the air to high five her. He dropped it again quick smart at Marla’s stony glare