Abby looked up at the ceiling. “And gangs. Manchester gangs.”
“You know Alex has been obsessed with that theory since he was thirteen and first found out that it was a Manchester mobster who donated the money for the cult to buy Felley Manor.”
Abby peered at him. “He is interested in it.”
“I know you’re looking for your sister. Is she tied to the Manchester gangs?”
She stared at the fire; it was an open one and in winter would be blazing, she imagined. Now, at the height of summer, it was empty.
“She was dating a gang member, or so I found out after she disappeared.” Abby swallowed and not for the first time, felt a wave of anger towards Tilly. Her good sister, who never even got a detention, dating someone who was involved in crime wasn’t something she’d managed to get her head round, no matter how much she’d thought about it.
“We all do stupid things. And it might not’ve been a stupid thing to her.”
“I know.”
“Anyway,” Scott said, downing the rest of his coffee. “I’m short staffed tomorrow. During the day.”
Abby smiled. “You know you agreed to give me two weeks’ of holidays…”
He waved a hand. “I did. I know. I’m a terrible boss. But I also know you’re bored. What do you think? I’ll have Calvin on the door during the day anyway. He’s also moving into the flat.”
She grinned. Calvin was an ex-bouncer, worked in Leeds and had married a Severton woman, moving over to the village as a kept man. A bored kept man.
“He’s fallen out with Angie again?”
“For the fifth time this month. He’s asked if he can use the flat as a man palace and those were his words.”
Abby laughed. It felt good.
TeasingAlex on the phone about his obsession with Felley Manor was a highlight of the morning, along with checking her emails and having the offer of a couple of sponsorships based solely on her last two blog posts, which had reached more people than she’d anticipated. The rock-climbing world had not forgotten about her, it seemed. She accepted them, not needing an agent given they weren’t the scale of the offers she used to get and she knew enough now to broker them herself.
Then there was another email, this one from her ex. It was nice, hoping that she was okay, giving her a rundown of the climbs he’d done, and then telling her that he now had a baby, born just a few days ago. Abby had known when she’d ghosted everyone that he would move on quickly. She hadn’t been surprised when she found out he was engaged just a few months after she’d disappeared, nor had it bothered her. In fact, she’d been relieved that he’d moved on.
Bored of being inside most of the day, she found the dogs’ leads – which they took great pleasure in hiding – and headed out into the village, intending to mooch around the shops and then take a walk up one or two of the peaks. She’d printed off the contract sent by one of the clothing companies, who had asked for it to be returned by post rather than scanned, which was odd, but she understood. It was an old established company that made climbing gear and they were on the old-fashioned side. She hadn’t been one of their sponsored climbers before and she’d figured it was because she was a woman. Maybe they had a change of board members or someone had pointed out that there was a lack of variety of brand reps. She wasn’t going to take it as anything other than a step in the right direction.
Gran had no issue with dogs entering the post office as long the owner didn’t have an issue with her giving them treats and teaching them bad habits. Meg, one of Severton’s residents who trained therapy dogs, had been trying to train Gran for several years, and it was now deemed that she was impossible to train.
As soon as they went inside the post office, Abby let Hansel and Gretel off their leads and they bolted to the back of the store where they would be allowed to forage for pigs’ ears, the odd bone and whatever other treats Gran had hidden in doggy heaven.
“Afternoon, Fannyella.” Abby came eye to eye with Marian, who was definitely keeping up the appearance of someone who was about to be part of a festival.
“Afternoon, Abigail. Do you happen to have a festival name?” Marian gave her a look that suggested if she didn’t, then she needed to come up with one quick, otherwise she was about to be christened with something that would be entirely inappropriate.
She glanced around the shop, her eyes landing on an opened box, the brand visible on the inside.
“Love Honey.” It was only after she’d said the second word she realised what the box contained and what she’d just named herself after. A company that sold sex toys, albeit with a great reputation.
Fannyella beamed. “Perfect! Pussy Willow, come meet Love Honey!”
Abby closed her eyes, not daring to look. She knew that Pussy Willow was Gran, she just wasn’t sure what Gran would be wearing. Or not wearing.
“Abby! It’s lovely to see you! Don’t worry about old Marian there, she’s making everyone have names for this damn festival, although Love Honey is very appropriate for someone who won’t be needing their products any time soon.” She gave Abby a wicked look. “Marian, can you pass Seed his next outfit?”
There was silence.
“Oh for fu… Fannyella, can you pass Seed his next outfit? We want to take the photo for December.”
Abby frowned. “Who’s Seed?” Given they were issuing out festival names, Abby was a little anxious as to which Severton male was being hidden behind there, possibly against their will.
