A Body in the Lakes by Graham Smith (great books of all time .TXT) 📕

them with their infant daughter. Below the central picture was an image of a tired, but ecstatic Harriet holding a newborn baby wrapped in a pink blanket.

If ever Newham had been questioned in relation to Harriet’s murder, this spoke of his innocence. The man had become a single parent the day his fiancée had been murdered, and here he was, nearly two years later, still seemingly carrying a torch. The pictures on the chimney breast said as much, but they also said a lot more.

Until Beth had seen them, she’d subtly looked around for a pair of woman’s shoes or a cup with a smear of lipstick. It had been instinctive to her to check for signs that Newham had moved on.

All those ideas had been refuted by the presence of the pictures, and there was nothing to suggest that his affections lay anywhere other than with his daughter.

‘I hope you have more success in finding the charver who killed our Harriet than them other coppers. Right bunch of radgees them lot.’

There was no hostility in Newham’s tone, and Beth had spent enough time working in Carlisle to translate ‘charver’ into man and ‘radgees’ into idiots without having to think about it.

Like so many other parts of the country, Cumbria has its own speech patterns and while a lot of the terms have influences from neighbouring counties, many have origins in the traditional Cumbrian dialect. This dialect has been traced back to the fifth century when Cumbria was central to the kingdom known as Rheged – which covered Northern England and southern Scotland – when a form of the Brythonic language spoken by the tribes at the time had evolved into Cumbric. Norse influences crossed the Irish Sea in the tenth century and its effect was best found in place names, although it had many subtle effects on the slang which lay between proper English and the traditional dialect.

‘I get what you’re saying, Rory.’ Beth used his first name to try and establish a bond. Newham was skeletally thin, and other than his carefully mussed hair, he had nothing going for him looks-wise. ‘But I’m not here to criticise my colleagues; I’m here because my team has been tasked with bringing a new focus to the investigation into Harriet’s death.’

‘Mummy.’ The girl peeled her way out from under Newham’s arm and pointed at the picture on the chimney breast.

Newham lifted the child up so she was level with the picture. ‘That’s right, Kerrie. That’s your mummy.’

Beth fell silent as Newham dealt with his daughter. Her mind was on the little girl; the girl who would grow up knowing only a photograph as a mother.

For the child to not have a mother to lean on would be incredibly hard. Beth had always enjoyed a close relationship with her own mum – even during her teenage years – and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like for a girl to navigate her way through adolescence and puberty without a mother’s support. Grandparents and family would, of course, step up, and Newham seemed to be a very caring, loving father. But the girl would still miss out on an awful lot of natural support.

As Beth half-listened to Newham’s answers to her questions, she tried to find a new angle, a question that had yet to be asked, but she couldn’t think of anything that hadn’t been covered.

When Newham mentioned that Harriet had disappeared on her first night out after Kerrie had been born, it had been all Beth could do not to take the child from Newham’s arms and give her a huge cuddle for the misfortune which had befallen her young life.

Kerrie would become Beth’s poster girl for her determination to solve this case.

Fifteen

When Beth walked into the Crown that evening, her eyes flitted round the room in the same practised way they did whenever she entered a busy area. Always at the back of her mind was her desire to spot the man with the two kisses tattooed on his neck, as he was the one who’d deflected the bottle into her face on that fateful night.

She didn’t spot him, but she did see Ethan. He was standing by the bar facing the door.

Beth liked that he’d picked a vantage point where he could see her arrive. She also appreciated that he wasn’t engaged in a deep conversation with anyone as she entered.

She gave him a quick assessment as she crossed the bar to meet him. He was dressed in a smart shirt and a fashionable pair of jeans. His body language was relaxed and the pint on the bar with a mouthful out of the top was his first if the clarity of his eyes meant anything.

‘Hi. Good to see you.’ His tone was easy and he gave her the space she needed without being stand-offish. ‘What would you like to drink?’

Beth caught the unspoken message. He’d had doubts as to whether she’d come. That was fair enough, she’d had the same doubts herself.

‘Good to see you too. A glass of white wine, please. Chardonnay if they have it.’ Beth gestured at her clothes. ‘Sorry, I haven’t had the chance to go home and change. You’ll have to take me as you find me.’

As soon as the words were out, Beth gave an inward wince. Had she just given him the wrong signal?

‘You look fine.’ Ethan’s shrug was accompanied by a mischievous smirk. ‘Well, a little rumpled if I’m honest, but I’d sooner you turn up rumpled than not show at all.’

‘Why thank you, kind sir, you really know how to flatter a lady.’ Beth lifted her glass and toasted him. ‘Shall we get a table?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

As she trailed Ethan to a vacant table, Beth felt a pulse of excitement. Ethan seemed like he was good company and, best of all, there was something about him that put a smile on her face. Whether it was his good looks, easy charm or his jokey nature, she felt that