‘We can move the body as soon as CSI are finished.’
Wendy held up one hand. ‘I’m not done yet and I’m waiting for Carl to arrive to give me a hand. This is a big area to document; I can’t do it alone.’
John shrugged. ‘Your call. I’ll meet you back at the station then, Ben.’ He turned and walked away, stomping through the underbrush with as much finesse as a bear, not even giving Lynsey’s body more than a brief glance, and Ben felt his blood begin to boil.
Marc was an arse at times, but he was always respectful to the victims. John on the other hand was a complete idiot, andhe didn’t know how he was going to be able to work with him without losing his mind.
Wendy whispered close to his ear. ‘You better speak to Morgan and warn her Bigfoot is real and heading her way.’
At this Ben laughed a little too loudly, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders. ‘She’s going to think I’ve lost my mind if I text her that.’
‘Yeah, well I’m just saying better to forewarn her because if he goes into the office all gun’s blazing, she’s likely to tell him where to go and I’m not sure it will help the pair of you any.’
‘I’ll message her now.’
‘You’re welcome. Now get out of here, I’ve had enough of polite conversation, I have work to do.’
Ben blew her a kiss, but was relieved to be leaving this lonely, sad crime scene. He wondered if he could make it back to the station before Bigfoot got there.
TWENTY-SIX
1989
Angela hadn’t seen her baby since that dreadful day when he’d died and been resuscitated, but she was learning how to cope with the grief and loss that was akin to if he had died, because he was out of her life forever. Susan had agreed to keep him; her husband had always wanted a son and this way neither of them had to do much to make that a reality. Oh, how that news had stung her, and she hadn’t even found out through Jonathan, who hadn’t spoken to her since he left the hospital that day. She had found out through Jane whose husband worked with him. Angela didn’t know if it was better this way. At least her baby was with family even though that family had shunned her and wouldn’t let her even see her own child. It had to be better than him being put into the system and adopted by some strangers. She told herself it was better than how it almost ended, better that he was still breathing and here to live his life, even if that life didn’t include her.
She was back at college now, sitting the A-levels she’d never done after leaving school because Jonathan had swept her off her feet and promised to take care of her until the day she died. College was good even though she was the oldest in the class. She enjoyed the learning, and it kept her mind busy. It waskeeping the dark thoughts at bay, which was what she needed right now. She had a purpose for the first time in what felt like forever. When she’d been in school all she ever wanted to do was to be a nurse. Now though, she wanted to be a social worker. She wanted to be able to help women who were in situations like she’d been in, because as far as she’d known there wasn’t anything like that available to her. Of course, she knew now that she could have contacted social services herself and asked for help or gone to speak to her GP, but Jonathan wouldn’t have allowed it. Regardless of how she felt he would have told her to have a stiff upper lip and get on with it.
He really was an insensitive arsehole, and she wondered what she’d ever seen in him. Maybe it had been the best thing that happened to her, him throwing her out. As she sat at the tiny table in her cramped one-bedroom flat, she smiled, because despite how desperate it was, it was hers and she didn’t have to rely on Jonathan to pay for it.
She worked evenings in Bella Vista, a sweet little Italian restaurant, to pay her way, and she loved it, the staff were nice, and the owners were an elderly Italian couple who had taken her under their wing, making sure she always finished her shift with enough food to feed her for the next few days. Sometimes she had to question her own happiness. It was wrong to be living her life and enjoying it so much when she’d done such a bad thing and couldn’t even hold her own baby. It hurt so much. She had spent a long time choosing a first birthday gift for him and writing a card, sending it through the post because she knew Susan would never let her give it to him herself.
She had been browsing in the charity shop, when she had seen the hand-knitted bunny rabbit with his name embroidered onto it. The shock had made her legs go wobbly. Was Susan so cruel that he wasn’t even allowed a gift from his own mother? She had picked up the rabbit, clutching it to her chest, the wholetime fighting tears, and taken it to the cash desk where a woman was watching her with great interest.
‘How much, please?’
‘You can have that, dear, it’s only just come in, but it looks as if you need it a lot more than we do.’
Angela blinked away the tears, unsure if she could speak without her voice breaking. The woman was dressed in a purple jumper with a string of black obsidian beads around her neck, and she reached out and patted her hand ever so gently.
‘You lost your baby, and this reminds you of him.’
Angela nodded, still not sure she could use her voice without sobbing hysterically in front of a complete stranger, whose name tag readEttie.
‘I’m so sorry for your loss, it’s the worst life experience there is losing your own child, and if that little rabbit is going to give you some comfort, then you must take it. I think it was meant to go home with you. I have a feeling that the pair of you are connected on some much deeper level.’
Angela suddenly had the urge to tell her everything. There was something about the woman’s face that made her feel safe, that she wouldn’t judge her for what she’d done, and she imagined sitting drinking coffee with her and chatting. It would feel so good to open up to someone about how much of a lousy mother she was, but she couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to be judged by someone so kind, because she deserved to be judged, she knew that. It would just be nice for one time to not be.
Ettie passed her a tissue. ‘If you need someone to talk to, I can make you a lovely cup of herbal tea and we could have a little chat out the back. It’s not as if I’m overly busy; in fact it’s been pretty slow all day. I would love the chance to make another drink and have a natter.’
Clutching the rabbit to her chest she shook her head. ‘Thank you, but I have to go to work,’ she whispered, then turned andleft before she could change her mind and let this lovely woman know what an evil person she was.
Angela treasured the rabbit, it was her only connection to the little boy she had lost forever.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Cain was parked on the double yellow lines outside of the Co-op, waiting for Stan to come back with some food, when his phone began to ring. He smiled to seepain in the arseflash up on the screen.
‘Hey, Amy, how’s it going? How is my little princess today?’
