Daisy: Not Your Average Super-sleuth! Christmas in the Manor Born: Daisy Morrow, #7

By R T Green

Essentially-English, almost-certainly quirky, and definitely a little crazy, come and meet our feisty R.E.D. (Retired Extremely Daisy) heroine, and find out why she's such a hit with readers!

 

"One of the best cozy mysteries I've ever read!"

 

"A real breath of fresh literary air!"

According to Daisy, nothing is ever quite what it seems. In her case, that's the truest thing ever spoken! Moving to the village a few miles from Kings Lynn in Norfolk a year or so ago, after a very unfortunate incident in London, she believed village life was the best option. She's adapted to country life quite well, although she rather unkindly refers to the beautiful village of Great Wiltingham as the 'place people go to wilt'.
 

The Seventh One: Christmas in the Manor Born

 

God rest ye merry gentlemen... twice! A spooky Christmas adventure for Daisy and crew…

Jack's parents invite Celia, Daisy and Aidan to spend Christmas with them in the old manor house in Suffolk they've just bought. Their own house is still being rebuilt, and their daughter's is undergoing a lot of work, so a few days away seems like relaxing festive fun.

They don't realise until after they've accepted the invitation the remote manor is a lot older than the one Celia inherited, and that it needs just as much work as hers does. Or that it has a reputation in the nearby village of being seriously haunted.

Daisy has no time for the paranormal... but shortly after they arrive, some strange goings-on do their best to spook her into changing her mind. Still she refuses to accept there's another side to reality, but then things take a darker turn. Someone is murdered. And then murdered again...

 

Check out Daisy, and everything else we do, on the new rtgreen website.

And enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wise Owl
• Release date: Jul 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201318574

R T Green

The RTG mission in life is simple... to not be like everyone else! ‘Going Green’ has taken on a new meaning, in the book world at least. Whilst we applaud the original meaning (ebooks are a perfect way to promote that) we also try to present a different angle to it. The tendency these days is that if you don’t look and read like everyone else, you don’t sell books. Maybe there’s some truth in that, but we simply don’t do it. The RTG books have been described as a ‘breath of fresh literary air’, and, by those discovering us for the first time, ‘unexpectedly good’. We know many readers prefer the same-old same old, and that’s fine. It’s just not what you get from the RTG stable. Those who know about such things said it would take five years to become a proficient author... I scoffed at that. They were wise. It took six. It’s one reason why even today we remodel existing books, and will always do so. Right from the early years the stories were always good, but were put into words less well than they could have been! These days we have several series and a few standalones, the hit Daisy series most popular amongst them. In everything we do, the same provisos apply – Never the same book twice. If we can’t think up a good story, it doesn’t get written. The RTG brand is about exciting and twisty plots, a fast pace which doesn’t waste words, and endearing (sometimes slightly crazy) characters. We can never please everyone, but it works for us, and, it seems, for those who appreciate our work. Enjoy! Richard, Ann and the RTG crew

Book preview

Introduction

THE DAISY MORROW SERIES documents the slightly-crazy adventures of our R.E.D. (Retired Extremely Daisy) heroine... she’s fun, feisty, kind of wicked, and rather like the other RTG books, she will take you to places you never really expected to go!

Perhaps in Daisy’s case, that’s even truer. This time round, Jack’s parents invite Celia, Daisy and Aidan to spend Christmas with them in the old manor house in Suffolk they’re just buying from a family member. Daisy’s house is still being renovated, and their daughter’s undergoing a lot of work, so a few days away sounds like a relaxing festive break.

They don’t realise until after they’ve accepted the invitation that the remote manor is a lot older than the one Celia inherited, and that it needs just as much work as hers does.

Or more to the point, that it has a reputation in the nearby village of being seriously haunted.

Daisy has no time for the paranormal... but shortly after they arrive, some strange goings-on do their best to spook her into changing her mind. Still she refuses to accept there’s another side to reality, but then things take a darker turn.

Someone is murdered.

And then murdered again...

This ‘Christmas in the spooky country manor’ story contains, unashamedly, all the tropes and clichés you might expect in a ghost story! That’s intentional.

What we’ve tried to do however is build them into the story in an original, RTG kind of way. Those of you who know our work will already be aware we don’t do things exactly like most other authors. We love to bring you the unexpected, even when it comes to Christmas story clichés!

Enjoy!

Richard, Ann, and the crew

Christmas in the Manor Born

Chapter 1

‘WARBLESWICK? AND THERE was me thinking Great Wiltingham was a daft name!’

‘This is East Anglia, dear,’ Daisy said as she put the phone down. ‘At least we don’t live in Scraggy Bottom.’

‘Does anyone?’

‘I’m not sure. I just made it up... but I suppose it could actually exist somewhere.’

Aidan lay down the paint roller and flicked on the kettle. ‘Did I hear something about an invite?’

Daisy frowned slightly, like she couldn’t quite believe who’d been on the other end of the phone. ‘Yes, that was Jack’s mother. She’s invited us away for Christmas.’

‘From what Celia says, they have a very nice house. And as both our home and Celia’s will still be building sites over Christmas, it sounds like a nice idea, dear.’

Daisy nodded. ‘Yes, it might be.’

Aidan frowned as he handed her the fifth coffee that day. ‘Might be?’

‘She sounded very keen that we get away from it all for a few days, as she succinctly put it.’

‘I get a feeling there’s a but in there somewhere, Flower.’

‘We’ve not been invited to their home in Southwold. Apparently they’re spending Christmas in your daft-sounding Warbleswick, at the residence of one of Robert’s relations called Bertie, whoever he is.’

‘We should ask Celia before we accept, I suppose.’

‘Too late, dear. I’ve already said yes... well, kind of been bulldozed into it, it seems. Apparently Bertie is going into a retirement home in the New Year, so it’s a kind of festive send-off doo for him. Long overdue it seems... he’s about a hundred and fifty.’

‘Oh dear. Is he compos mentis?’

‘Oh yes. By all accounts he’s the life and soul of the party.’

‘It should be a riot then. We should still ask Celia about what to expect though.’

‘Ask me what?’

The daughter in question bustled in through the back door. She’d been down to her parent’s cottage, to check on the progress with the window fitters. Tomorrow they were due to finish there, and then transfer to hers to begin replacing some of the windows there. She looked pleased with what she’d seen.

‘Well, parents, your house is still a shell admittedly, but at least it’s a house again now, if a half-empty one. Time to organise the kitchen installers, I think. What were you going to ask me?’

‘About Jack’s relation Bertie.’

‘Who?’

‘Never heard of him then?’

‘Quite honestly, mum, we’ve not really had too much time for me to familiarise myself with his family outside of his mother and father, what with his cruise show being extended and all that.’

‘I bet he’s itching to get his hands on this place.’

‘Only two more days, and then he’ll be here, finally.’

‘Bet you didn’t bank on missing him for six weeks instead of four, did you?’

‘No, but the extra money will be handy. You guys and your solicitor helped organise a small renovation mortgage, but there’s still a lot to pay for, when you’re starting from scratch.’

Daisy nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yes, I was thinking about that.’

Aidan frowned. ‘Dear?’

Daisy didn’t hear him, kind of deliberately. Instead she smiled to her daughter. ‘You and Jack are invited to Warbleswick too, of course, even though you don’t know it yet. I take it Jack will be calling later?’

‘You know us too well, mum.’

‘Ask him about Bertie when he does then.’

‘I will. The sitting room walls look nice, dad.’

‘Yes. Just about to start on the last one. If your mother stays off the phone and gets cutting in anyway.’

Daisy grinned. ‘Paintbrush in hand, slave-driver of a husband.’

The darkness of a long winter’s night fell over Great Wiltingham, so the painting came to an end, and Celia rustled them up a quick and easy dinner. Just as they finished eating, her phone rang. She had a few words with Jack, then told him about the Christmas invite, and switched it to speakerphone.

‘My great-uncle Bertie is a bit of a character, even if he is a throwback to Dickensian times,’ he said.

‘Is he that old?’ Daisy grinned.

Jack laughed. ‘Almost. Not exactly sure how old he is, but he and his housekeeper have been virtual recluses for years. Not seen him for ages. Am a bit surprised he’s agreed to go into a home though. I always thought they’d carry him out of there in a box.’

‘Apparently it was his choice. Housekeeper?’

‘Yes. Miss Hortense. You seen the Addams family movie?’

Aidan shook his head. ‘Oh dear.’

Daisy thumped him playfully on the arm. ‘I’m sure she’s not that bad. Hopefully.’

‘Just don’t call her by her first name. Even at Christmas.’

‘What is her first name anyway?’

‘No idea.’

Aidan shook his head again. ‘So are we in for spit-roast goose and a meeting with Bob Crachit?’

‘I don’t think it’ll be that bad. We’ll all be together anyway, so we can make our own fun.’

‘You don’t sound too convinced, if I may say, Jack.’

‘It’s just that... well, the house really does date back to Dickensian times, and from what my dad tells me, it needs a lot doing.’

‘Maybe we’d better take our painting kit, dear?’

Aidan shook his head for the third time, but Jack shot Daisy down straightaway. ‘I think it needs more than a lick of paint, guys. But it does have a kind of central heating system, so we should be warm.’

‘Kind of?’

‘Well, you know. Three inch diameter water pipes, and ancient cast-iron radiators.’

Aidan stopped shaking his head, but only so he could speak. ‘The Romans did it better that that.’

‘Guess it took the rest of us a while to catch up with under-floor heating,’ Jack chuckled.

Celia put a positive spin on things. ‘I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun. Better than your shell house, folks, and this house, which will be getting a new heating system right after Christmas anyway.’

‘That’s what Jack’s mother said, although I think they just want the company really.’

‘From what I see on the news, it’s colder than usual for December, in Norfolk anyway,’ Jack seemed to be grinning through the speaker.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘Unlike here. Mind you, I don’t know why I’m grinning; I’ll be there too in a couple of days. From what I’m seeing, it might even snow. If it does, Bertie’s house will be a winter wonderland for sure.’

‘How so?’

‘It’s... a bit remote. Nearest neighbour at least a mile away, over in the village. It’s in the middle of the Dunwich forest, accessible only by a woodland track. It was summer last time I visited. Quite beautiful then.’

‘No shortage of Christmas trees I assume?’

‘For sure. Knowing Bertie he’s already dug a few up.’

Aidan sucked in a sharp intake of breath. ‘I’m hoping it doesn’t snow, if it’s only accessible by track.’

‘Oh come on dear, it hardly ever snows in East Anglia these days.’

‘Take your word for it.’

Jack hadn’t quite finished imparting his information. ‘There’s just one other thing, guys. Bertie just laughs it off, but...’

‘But what, Jack?’

‘Um... I hope you’re ok with the... paranormal?’

‘Jack, there’s no such thing as ghosts.’

‘Just keep hold of that thought, Daisy. I’ve never actually seen any evidence, but in the village, the manor has a huge reputation of being haunted.’

‘Poppycock,’ Aidan muttered, not very convincingly.

Chapter 2

‘IT’S FREEZING.’

‘It is December, dear.’

‘Ok, it’s too freezing for December.’

‘Give you that one.’

‘Our thatch is white.’

Aidan laughed mirthlessly. ‘At least the fire didn’t get as far as the roof, dear, so we still have thatch to be frosted.’

‘That’s a very good and relevant point right now, Dip. Thank you.’

Daisy and Aidan stood just inside the drive gate, gazing thoughtfully at the rebuilt rear of the cottage. Apart from a lick of white paint, which couldn’t be applied in the colder-than-usual temperatures, their home looked almost like it did before the arson attack.

The new UPVC windows had been fitted, and the installers had transferred down the road to Celia’s house, to make a start there. The outside rendering around the kitchen walls had been replaced, and there was nothing to give away the fact that six weeks ago a ferocious blaze had burnt away much of the rear of the house.

Luckily the thatched cottage wasn’t as old as it looked. If the walls had been timber and lath instead of more modern concrete blocks, Daisy and Aidan’s entire home would have burnt to the ground.

‘Shall we have a look inside, Flower?’

Daisy nodded, a little reluctantly. It was the first time she’d braved the cottage since almost losing her life there, and she knew even before she went inside the recall would be difficult... even though she’d made light of it to everyone else.

Aidan knew her better than anyone else however, so as he slipped the new key into the kitchen door, he took her hand. ‘You sure about this, dear?’ he asked quietly.

‘You know what they say about getting back on the horse, Dip. It might have taken me six weeks, but I’ve strapped on the saddle now.’

He grinned, a little nervously. ‘If you find it too much, we can always sell and look for somewhere else.’

She looked at him, and raised her eyebrows. ‘I thought you knew me, Dip? You think an evil Italian arsonist is going to stop me living here?’

He chuckled. ‘Not at all. Just thought I’d better do the decent thing and ask, dear.’

She smiled, and squeezed his hand as they walked inside. ‘That’s why I love you, you old gentleman.’

‘I guess it’s times like these when a little old-fashioned chivalry is appreciated. Well, here we are.’

Daisy flicked her eyes around the space. ‘It looks huge, Dip.’

‘That’s because there no kitchen units to take up the space.’

‘It looks too huge, Dip,’ Daisy corrected.

‘It won’t when the kitchen fitters come in January. Then it will look just like it did before.’

‘I’m still wondering if Burgundy doors and white granite worktops would have been a nice change.’

‘Really?’

She shook her head. ‘No, not really. I guess when we chose the new kitchen, for a moment I wanted it to be... new, if you get me.’

He wrapped an arm around her waist. ‘I totally get you, dear. Perhaps a little familiarity is best though.’

‘I suppose it will feel like it never happened.’

Aidan shook his head. ‘I don’t think I will ever forget coming back from the pub, and seeing the place ablaze with you inside and Celia screaming like the world had ended.’

‘Perhaps not. And I shouldn’t ever forget how brave you were rescuing me either.’

‘I think you were the braver one, Flower. Or the most insane. Running into a burning building to rescue me, when I wasn’t actually there, is a never-to-be-forgotten act of true love.’

It was Daisy’s turn to shake her head. ‘Yes Dip... I forgive you for being at the pub instead of inside our blazing home.’

‘So gracious of you, dear.’

Daisy laughed, and wandered over to the passageway to the staircase, the point where she’d been overcome by the smoke the last time she’d seen it. She gazed around at everything new; the doors and doorways, the ceiling, the wooden staircase. It looked just like it had done before the flames had taken hold on that awful night.

Aidan came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘You still ok?’

She turned to him and smiled. ‘You know what? I can hardly remember the horror that I felt right here, knowing I couldn’t get upstairs to you. I think when I blacked out, somehow it ripped away the memories too.’

‘That might be for the best, darling. Quite honestly I really didn’t fancy being woken every night by you having screaming nightmares.’

She thumped him. ‘If that’s your way of saying I came out of it without needing counselling, I appreciate the sentiment, heavily disguised though it was.’

‘You know me too well, dear.’

They wandered back out onto the drive, just as the electrician drove through the gate. Aidan handed him the spare key, and he started to unload his kit. He and the heating engineer would be there for the next couple of days, replacing the wiring and the section of the central heating that hadn’t survived, ready for the kitchen to be installed.

Daisy and Aidan left him to it, and headed for the gate to Walcott’s Lane. Daisy held out a gloved hand. ‘Dear, it’s snowing!’

‘Flower, it doesn’t snow here in December. White Christmases are a thing of pre-global warming.’

‘So what’s that then?’ Daisy said, holding out her black-gloved hand.

‘Ok, you need a microscope to see it, but it’s definitely a snowflake.’

‘Seems I’m right again then.’

They closed the gate behind them, and turned in the direction of Walter’s ex-home, just as someone came trotting up to them. Maisie and Brutus the cat were out for their morning walk. She smiled as she realised what her