Cold Is the Grave
Chapter One
"Mummy! Mummy! Come here."
Rosalind carried on stuffing the wild mushroom, olive oil, garlic and parsley mixture between the skin and the flesh of the chicken, the way she had learned in her recent course on the art of French cuisine. "Mummy can't come right now," she shouted back. "She's busy."
"But, Mummy! You've got to come. It's our lass."
Where on earth did he learn such common language? Rosalind wondered. Every term they forked out a fortune in fees to send him to the best school Yorkshire had to offer, and still he ended up sounding like some vulgar tyke. Perhaps if they lived down south again, the situation would improve. "Benjamin," she called back. "I told you. Mummy's busy. Daddy has an important dinner tonight and Mummy has to prepare."
Rosalind didn't mind cooking -- in fact, she had ... read full excerpt from Cold Is the Grave: A Novel of Suspense ebook
