2 Mystery At Meadowbank Cottage - Original Audio Drama

Mystery at Meadowbank Cottage An Original Story Written and Performed by Stephanie Poppins Music by my brother,

John Miles Carter Chapter Two You look nice,

Said Justin,

As Tuesday St.

Clair climbed into his new 4x4.

Thanks,

She beamed.

She was feeling ever so slightly better.

Her brother was always there for her,

That was something.

Since losing their parents in such a tragic way,

The two siblings have been tighter than ever.

I like the new shades.

This is the best way to disguise my need for glasses,

Justin chuckled.

And what do you think of my new car?

Nice,

Said Tuesday.

Stunning,

Actually.

Soft leather,

Immaculate paintwork and best of all that new car smell.

Justin beamed.

Betsy loves it.

I bet she does,

Thought Tuesday.

Flashy Range Rovers were far from Tuesday's kind of thing.

But she wouldn't be telling her brother that.

He'd been counting down the days since he first had it on order.

She looked out of the window so he'd miss her expression.

Betsy had him wrapped around her little finger.

Her brother Justin was no better than a lap dog as far as she was concerned.

And this car was definitely more Betsy than Justin.

Are we going straight to Dunhills?

She asked.

Yep,

He replied.

10.

30 appointment.

And Dunnells is the best.

He chose the best.

They're at the top of their game at the moment.

Now let's check out this sound system.

Justin slammed leather onto rubber.

And Tuesday sang along to the songs from the 90s with everyone else on the busiest motorway in the north of England.

They were on their way to the estate agents.

This was the start of their new venture.

Justin St Clair pulled up to the makeshift car park that was Dunhills' new driveway.

It was unusual to see so many cars on a Monday morning,

But Tuesday didn't mind.

She liked the idea of getting lost in the busyness of it all.

There are worse places I could spend time in,

She thought.

Bushmore Village was a pretty place located on the outskirts of their bustling city.

It was leafy,

Green and quiet,

Which gave Tuesday a taste of the life she was about to buy into.

She followed her brother in through ornamental trees of cherry and bay leaf.

It was nice,

The windows had been polished and the brightly coloured furniture was set at strategic angles,

So every member of staff could see every interaction at any one time.

Looks like they're having a party,

She whispered as they made their way to reception.

And she was right.

Every one of the staff looked as if they'd just won the lottery.

And there's the reason why,

Said Justin,

Pointing to a gold trophy standing in pride of place on the reception desk.

Estate Agency of the Year,

East of England,

He read.

Wow,

Smiled Tuesday,

They must be doing something right then.

The door closed behind them and a twenty-something year old,

Donned in regulation blue shirt and beige chinos,

Headed straight for them.

Mr and Mrs St Clair,

Wonderful to meet you.

His hand was outstretched but Justin refused to accept it.

Will you tell him or will I?

He quipped.

We're brother and sister,

Tuesday corrected,

Shaking his hand anyway.

My bad,

Sorry,

Well you're a fine looking pair anyhow.

The agent quickly recovered his front page smile and ushered them over to the waiting area.

Champagne anyone?

Tuesday smiled,

This of course made everyone watching smile back,

But her brother was ill amused.

Let's hope this mutual appreciation is reflected in the deal,

He said.

Tuesday shot him an awkward glance,

What was he saying?

Those words could have come straight out of Betsy's lips.

Let's just make this happen,

She added quickly,

Eager to avoid any misunderstanding.

By the looks of it,

You guys will have no problem in doing that.

She knew this would break the ice.

Diplomacy was her thing and by the sounds of it,

It was going to be called upon a lot more than she first realised.

I'll grab some glasses,

Said the agent,

And Tuesday joined her brother who was now over at the far wall checking out the certificates.

It doesn't look like a hard sell outfit,

She began,

They seem really nice,

What's up,

Why did you say that?

Shouldn't be difficult to remember who your clients are,

Should it?

Mr and Mrs,

How could they get that wrong?

They're on a high from their latest success,

You can see that,

Maybe he just forgot.

Well,

He shouldn't forget.

With his bag to his sister,

Justin grabbed a nearby chair and sat down.

You're okay,

Justin,

What's up?

Not had a row,

Have you?

Don't be so ridiculous,

Betsy and me never row.

Okay,

Point taken,

Let's have a look at the brochure then,

I'll let them off this time.

And making the most of the sun on their backs,

Tuesday and Justin reminded themselves just what they were buying into.

It's the best plot in Leyton Woodlands,

T,

A nice little cottage for you and all those holidaylets.

I know,

There's so much potential for growth,

Maybank Cottage is going to be my home,

It's going to be perfect.

Tuesday eyed her brother suspiciously.

Maybe he needed to escape as much as she did,

That was why he was going into this with her.

Maybe things weren't all sunshine and roses,

Shade Team St Clair.

Justin had been the first one with the idea,

Not that he'd be coming to live there.

His love-hate relationship with the city kept him fired up,

He said.

And anyway,

Betsy hated the country,

All muck and misery,

She called it.

This is the best way for you to leave Robert Shafe behind,

He said matter-of-factly,

It's a no-brainer.

It's going to be a massive change,

But you're right,

And I know it's time,

Tuesday replied.

If mum and dad had survived,

They'd have said the same thing.

Yep,

He agreed.

How Tuesday wished her brother could have had children of his own.

He would make a great father,

She thought,

He was always so thoughtful.

But that was the last thing his wife wanted,

And what Betsy wanted,

Betsy got.

There's even a little stream running through the plot,

Tuesday gushed,

Scanning the map.

And maybe that cottage looks nice,

I can't wait to see it.

It's amazing what city money can buy these days,

Said Justin.

It'll be worth every penny,

T,

You'll soon settle in,

Don't worry.

Do you think?

Yeah,

I'll be over as much as I can,

And you'll keep yourself busy with the decorating,

You're good at that.

Any of the heavy stuff I can do when I come over.

Tuesday sighed with anticipation,

If all went the way they agreed,

She'd be starting a new life very soon.

From what she remembered of the Leyton Woods,

There were long-ditched trails and brilliant wildlife walks.

The last time they were there,

They were kids,

And their mum and dad were still alive.

What holidays they'd had back then.

Not that I realised it at the time,

She thought.

Tuesday used to think the people who lived and worked in the woods were pathetic,

Never having any vision beyond doing the same thing day in,

Day out.

But having lived in the city for the past five years,

Immersed in the shallow world of marketing,

She could see the value in it now.

Justin always said there was money to be made in Leyton Woods,

And he was right.

City people were paid top money for their annual escape,

And this would be fun,

Building up a cottagecore business with vintage chalets that embraced both luxury and simplicity.

If it really took off,

She could even leave behind the online work it set her up with,

And fully immerse herself in country living.

Thank goodness for her brother.

But then this was business,

Wasn't it?

And Justin knew business,

He understood business.

When you're ready.

A female assistant emerged to beckon them from the front office,

And following her lead they made themselves comfortable in the seats overlooking the car park.

Tuesday gazed out of the window at the wooded area beyond.

There were so many different shades of the same colour green,

How was that even possible?

And the sky looked unusually blue.

Then suddenly she sat up straight,

Bit down on her lip hard,

And took in an unexpectedly sharp breath.

Surely not,

It couldn't be,

Could it?

Champagne?

The eager assistant placed their glasses in front of them and exclaimed,

Oh,

There he is now,

The vendor,

Getting out of the Range Rover.

He won't be a second,

Can I get you anything else?

I think I'll have a glass of water.

Tuesday mumbled.

Justin eyed her suspiciously.

You alright,

T?

All the colour had drained from her cheeks.

I don't think I can do this.

Why not?

What is it now?

Justin followed her line of sight through the window onto the car park and the wooded area beyond.

But he'd left his glasses in the car,

And without glasses,

He was like Tuesday without her contacts,

Half blind.

T,

This is happening,

We're here now and it's happening.

I know,

Then pull yourself together.

But it was no use.

Tuesday Sinclair was a nervous wreck.

She stared in disbelief at the man striding towards them.

There was no getting away from it.

It was him.

But how was this possible?

He'd left late and years ago,

Hadn't he?

Yet here he was,

His large dark hand,

Pushing the door open as his hazel eyes fixed upon hers.

What is it?

Justin hissed.

What's going on?

Tuesday stood up quickly.

It's Jonathan Green.

What,

The Jonathan Green?

The very same.

And sure enough,

There he was in front of them,

Hand outstretched,

Ready to make things happen.

This was the man that got away.