Just Keep Breathing by GS Rhodes (good books to read for 12 year olds .txt) 📕

going out with work friends was something unheard of. Though, he supposed, this was still work after all.

Even when he’d been off for six months and he took that trip to Europe—mostly to track down Craig—he’d gone out but only to drown his sorrows. That was when he’d gotten in the most trouble. He hoped he’d be able to avoid that tonight.

JOHN: Have fun tonight. Don’t forget you owe me. x

Kidd laughed in spite of himself. After their lunch today, he would have much rather have been spending the evening with John. It was no disrespect to Zoe, not at all, but they weren’t exactly going out for fun. They were going out to essentially keep working.

I know I know. Tomorrow? X

JOHN: Until tomorrow then. X

Kidd pocketed his phone and grabbed his keys and wallet before heading outside. He climbed into his car and drove round to Zoe’s house to pick her up. He tooted the horn twice and he saw the lights in her hallway click off before she opened the door.

She was wearing a pair of figure-hugging blue jeans and a white, strappy top, her black leather jacket slung over one shoulder. She’d let her hair down, her curls bouncing free as she walked over to his car.

“I hate that we’re doing this,” she said as she climbed into the passenger seat. “And I also hate that you’re driving. You’re the worst driver.”

“Needs must,” Kidd said. “And since I’m giving you a ride, you can drink tonight.”

“We have a pair of missing teenagers to find, I need to be on my game tomorrow,” she said with a smirk. “Maybe just one drink.”

“Atta girl,” Kidd said as he drove them towards the school.

They arrived in pretty good time, struggling to find a space in the almost overflowing car park. People were heading towards the entrance in pairs, in clusters, maybe people that had reconnected over Facebook, maybe people that had never lost touch in the first place like DI Kidd seemed to have done with his school friends.

When they stepped inside, Kidd felt a strange wave of familiarity washing over him. It had been an awfully long time since he’d been in this hall.

The lights were low, the usual rows of chairs cleared to the sides of the room where they surrounded tables that a few people were already occupying, many deep in conversations, and even deeper into their drinks. There was a bar to one side, portable and to be cleared away without a trace before the following morning, and a long buffet table with snacks and nibbles, another place where groups of people were congregating.

No one had dared to step onto the small amount of space cleared for a dance floor near the DJ—Kidd couldn’t believe there was a DJ. It was like being at a school disco when you’re twelve years old.  They got a couple of drinks and stood to one side, their own little cluster. There were a couple of people whose faces Kidd recognised, not that he’d be able to put a name to them. He’d done rather a good job of blocking out most of his school years.

“Do you think they’re going to be here?” Zoe asked, leaning in and having to raise her voice to be heard over the music.

“Of course they are,” Kidd said.

“What makes you say that?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Keeping up appearances,” he said. “They can’t miss this event because they’ve said they’re going to be here. Also, and I’m trying not to sound like a miserable old fucker when I say this—”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to?”

“But she’ll want the attention,” Kidd said. “Even though it’s negative, even though it’s not really about her, the amount she’s been posting at the moment, she must sort of feed off it.”

“Is that not a little bit sick?” Zoe asked.

“I’ll say,” Kidd replied, but seeing her Tweets about his press conference was enough to confirm that part of this was definitely about getting attention, even though her daughter was missing. He’d never say it to her, he wouldn’t mention it to Weaver or put it in the report, but it certainly seemed a little bit weird and a whole lot inappropriate.

The night carried on for a little longer, DI Kidd and DS Sanchez stood to one side nursing their drinks, occasionally wandering as far as the buffet table to pick up a couple of snacks before finding somewhere else to stand or sit and observe. A few people came over and spoke to Kidd and he found himself explaining to most of them that Zoe was his colleague, not his wife. People liked to assume the latter.

“See?” Zoe said. “This isn’t so bad.”

“It could certainly be worse,” he replied.

“I wish we weren’t working,” she said. “I know we’re not officially working, but what I wouldn’t give to get you drunk enough that you’re the first person to take to that dance floor.”

“Not on your life!” Kidd said through a laugh.

The doors to the main hall opened and a few heads turned. There was a whisper that sort of rippled around the whole room and it was enough to draw Kidd’s attention away from Zoe. He looked to see Laura Harper walking in wearing all black—of course, why wouldn’t she?—with Chris, her husband, at her side. It was the first time that Kidd had seen him in the flesh in twenty years and he looked a lot different than he did in pictures.

In the pictures he had with Laura on her social media, he was every bit the tall, dark, and handsome Prince Charming. But in the flesh, he seemed pale in comparison to her. She was the star in the relationship, that much was clear. All attention was on her, he was part of the supporting cast.

A few people flocked over immediately, women mostly, fawning over Laura, fawning over her outfit, and offering what Kidd assumed would be apologies about what had happened with Sarah. Yes,