Discarded by M. Hunter (the reading list .txt) 📕

before thinking better of it and ushering me inside. I immediately spot Freddie behind the main table, ladling steaming soup into bowls cupped by grateful hands. This is so typical of Freddie; anyone else would be making the most of their freedom after so many months under lock and key, but not Freddie. He spends more time volunteering in this shelter than some of the visitors do eating meals. Judging by the clothes he’s wearing, I’d guess he hasn’t even been home to change since he got off the train.

His eyes brighten when he spots me, but a frown quickly follows as he spots Jack lurking behind.

‘Can we have a word when you have a minute?’ I ask.

He ladles another bowl of soup before looking back at me. ‘I’m a bit busy at the moment. Can you come back in an hour or so?’

Jack steps past me. ‘It’s kind of urgent.’

Freddie isn’t one who responds well to confrontation. When I first met him, I quickly learned that the best way to make him open up is with gentle coaxing; he needs to want to open up, and direct questions won’t do it.

He calls over Judith, one of the other volunteers, and whispers something into her ear before handing over the ladle and moving around the table. ‘We can sit over there,’ he says, indicating a dark corner away from the serving tables. ‘Do either of you want soup and a roll? It’s winter vegetable.’

‘No, we’re fine,’ I answer for both of us, as we take our seats.

As with all the other tables and chairs in the hall, this one has been donated and would look more fitting on someone’s patio than in a dimly-lit hall on a cold February night. The white plastic is scratched and weathered, but it serves a purpose – in many ways as the three of us do. We’ve all seen better days, but aren’t ready for the scrapheap yet.

‘What can I do for you, officer?’ Freddie says, adopting a faux Texan accent, like we’re in some western.

‘What do you remember about your time at Pendark?’

The question is so direct and abrupt that even I’m caught on the back foot. Freddie looks to me, disappointed maybe that I haven’t taught Jack how to coax. ‘It was a hell hole and I’m glad it’s gone.’

‘I want to know more about the time you spent there when you were younger.’

The look of disappointment on Freddie’s face is growing, and I really wish I’d had the chance to forewarn him about the slew of questions.

‘I’ve told you everything I remember about that time,’ he growls under his breath.

I don’t blame him; this is neither the time nor the place to get into specifics about that period in his life.

‘I’m not interested in what they did to you,’ Jack snaps back, keeping his voice low too, ‘I want to know what else you saw there; who else you saw there.’

‘Take it easy, Jack,’ I warn quietly, before looking back at Freddie. ‘A girl’s body has been discovered buried in the ruins,’ I tell him. ‘I think what Jack is asking is whether you witnessed anything beyond what you’ve already told us, when you were there all those years ago.’

‘I’ve told you before,’ Freddie growls, ‘I remember very little of that time… I must have repressed the memories, and the last thing I want to do is go digging up the past.’

‘You should have thought about that before you lit the match,’ Jack barks.

‘Might I remind you that had Freddie not burned down Pendark, you might never have found’—I can’t bring myself to say Anna’s name—‘her.’

A couple of the diners on the closest of tables have looked up and are glaring at Jack and me in support of their friend. I try to ignore their stares and soften my tone. ‘I think we should all calm down, and remember where we are. Freddie is as much a victim as the girl you’ve found, Jack.’ I sigh. ‘Yes, the fire was reckless, but he’s served his punishment for the crime, and now he wants to move on with his life. You know the pain he has suffered, and dredging it all up here and now isn’t right.’

Jack’s glare hasn’t left Freddie and I’m not sure he has heard me; he certainly hasn’t listened. ‘Why set fire to the place?’ Jack says next, no longer concerned about the rising aggression in his voice. ‘If you knew where the place was, you could have phoned me, or Emma, or 999, and reported it. That way a professional team of forensics experts could have gone over that place brick by brick searching for answers about the people who were there. But no, instead, you douse the place in accelerant and destroy all the evidence that could have helped catch the bastards who did this to you and countless others.’

Freddie stands, no longer prepared to put up with Jack’s bluntness, and frankly I don’t blame him. But Jack isn’t prepared to give up that easily and snatches at Freddie’s arm, dragging him back down.

‘I’m not done with you yet. You tell me what you know now, or so help me, I’ll have you in the nearest nick for impeding an investigation.’

‘Jack!’ I gasp, shocked at just how hostile this last threat is. ‘Freddie is doing his best, and this is not the right way to treat him.’ I coil my fingers around Jack’s and pry them off Freddie’s wrist. Freddie looks ashen but I nod for him to return to the food table and continue working.

‘That is no way to speak to him,’ I chastise, keeping my voice low but filled with anger.

Jack pulls his fingers from mine dismissively. ‘You really have no clue, do you?’

‘No clue about what, Jack? I don’t understand why you’re being like this.’

He has pushed his tongue into his cheek and is shaking his head, holding back again.

‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’ I press. ‘I know you’re