Lost Souls by Jenny O'Brien (android e book reader txt) 📕

it would make him feel if he caught her rummaging through his paltry possessions. Anyway, she wouldn’t find much. A photo of the five of them taken only days before their lives had been pulled asunder. His grandfather’s watch, which was the last gift from his father, and his Swiss Army knife. That was it. The sum total of his history contained in those three items. Three items he wouldn’t part with for the world.

Ronan had seen some of the contents of her rucksack already when he’d made her repack her gear into his brother’s less obvious Nike bag. The small cuddly toy that made his heart twist. The pile of neatly folded clothes that had been ironed by a loving hand. A pink toothbrush and small tube of paste. The items of food. The steak knife hidden in one of the side pockets. His brows creased as he stared down at the vicious blade, not quite believing that someone her age would have the wherewithal to take a knife and even think of using it. Instead of doing what he wanted, which was to dispose of it, he returned it to its hiding place and continued searching. There was a book curled up right at the bottom and, pulling it out, he smiled at the cover before returning it and piling the clothes back on top. There was nothing of the essence of the child. No photographs and little money, his gaze resting on the small, dented tin with a pile of two-pence pieces and a few pound coins. No reason that he could think of for her to desert everything she’d ever known for a life of uncertainty on the road. That was the main thing that was worrying him. He’d do what he could for her but the truth was it probably wasn’t going to be enough.

He’d decided he wasn’t going to lie to her so instead of repacking the food stuff, he collected it in a neat pile and carried it into the kitchen. They were long on baked beans but that wasn’t a bad thing as they could be eaten cold from the tin, something he’d gotten used to when hiding in the cave on the Great Orme. If it wasn’t for the cooked lunch that he’d had dished out to him at the church each day, he’d have forgotten what a decent meal tasted like. His staple diet consisted of sliced white bread, the cheaper the better, and tins of whatever he could eat straight from the can with a spoon. If there ever came a time when he felt able to return to society, he’d already promised himself that he’d never eat another baked bean again. Ever.

The pile of food on the work surface didn’t look much even when he’d added his own supply but he still had a few pounds tucked away and there was always the hope that it wouldn’t take long for Ellie to confide in him.

Ronan was far more sensible now he had a couple of months’ experience of being homeless under his belt. He’d chosen his current path out of sheer desperation simply because he couldn’t cope with the rows. Arguments that had once passed over his head started to trouble his sleep and affect his appetite. His brothers were too young to understand and his mother too wrapped up in her own problems to spare more than a passing thought as to what was going on in her eldest son’s life. She’d wanted him to get a job until he’d decided what he was going to do. For some reason, she couldn’t understand that the sheer energy it took to lift his head off the pillow in the morning often felt like too much of a struggle. In the weeks leading up to leaving home, he’d taken to his bed and had stayed there apart from coming out for meals. He knew he was depressed but why wouldn’t he be? There was no future for him that he could imagine. No happy ever after. No one to save him and he certainly wasn’t in a position to save himself.

Now he had a child to care for and a secret to puzzle out. After that? He had no idea.

Chapter 25

Gaby

Monday 3 August, 7.55 p.m. Rhos-on-Sea

Gaby pulled into her drive, taking a moment to switch her mind from detective on duty to … She shook her head, unable to think up an alternative. It had been so long since she’d had anyone waiting for her, anyone to come home to, that she struggled to think of anything outside of work. What she really wanted was a hot shower closely followed by her oldest and comfiest pyjamas. Food wasn’t as important as it used to be and oftentimes she found herself snacking on crackers and cheese with a glass of wine on the side instead of bothering to cook. Relaxation was a chapter or two of her latest read instead of reaching for the TV remote. She was never at home long enough to catch up on soaps and if she watched television for more than an hour a week it was a record. Apart from the occasional movie, she watched the news when she could and sometimes not even that if Amy and Tim popped around from their house, only situated a five-minute walk away.

With thoughts of Amy, her mind galloped off the leash and back to work with all the finesse of a thoroughbred racehorse in sight of the finishing line. Amy had sent her a quick text, after they’d interviewed Heather Powell, but it hadn’t really added anything to the investigation. They’d already worked out that Ellie must have been worried about something to run away like that. The problem was they had no way of finding out what. If her mother and her best friend didn’t know … Gaby paused, her mind taking her into new territory. Unless one, or both of them, were