Letting out the Worms: Guilty or not? If not then the alternative is terrifying (Kitty Thomas Book 1 by Sue Nicholls (primary phonics .txt) 📕

good. He had not realised how much his whole being hungered for the comfort of a simple embrace. With his mouth in her hair he said, ‘It truly is nice. Can we do it again sometime? I’d be glad to feed you next time.’

‘That’d be lovely, but come here and I’ll teach you how to chant.’ She lifted her head to look at him, and he was lost. Too euphoric to argue, so he nodded, and she put her head back on his chest. With his cheek once more against her hair he breathed in the scent of her shampoo.

30 KITTY

‘Didn’t our dads say this was stolen?’ Kitty surveyed the old trolley on Sam’s floor and wondered how he had got it up the stairs.

‘It must have been there for… how long is it?’

Kitty pondered. ‘We would have been about six. So, about twenty-six years. How long does wood take to rot?’

‘It was wrapped in plastic sheeting. I guess if it was well sealed it might have lasted quite a while.’

‘All the rain we’ve had must have washed the soil away.’ Kitty patted the sturdy greenish planks on the trolley. ‘We had a good time that day, didn’t we?’

‘Yeah. I remember being unbelievably upset when we couldn’t do it again.’

‘Me too.’

Sam applied a fingernail to the drying surface and scraped off a khaki sliver of wood. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever know how it got there.’ He caught up the rope and gave it a tug, but earth and rust still locked the wheels, and it skated over the floorboards, depositing nuggets of mud in its wake. He winked at Kitty, ‘We could free the wheels and paint it with some of that rot stuff. It might go again. Maybe we could run it down Little Callun Hill, for old time’s sake. It’s big enough to take two of us.’

‘You are an idiot.’ Kitty thumped his arm, and he gave a yelp and rubbed it.

She turned her attention back to the trolley. ‘It would be useful though. You could use it to carry heavy stuff while you’re helping your dad with his garden.’

‘Don’t remind me. The place is a bloody nightmare.  You’re right, though. It does look useful. But I’d rather tear down that hill again.’ He grinned and grabbed a screwdriver. ‘Let’s see what we can do to free up these wheels.’

Kitty picked up an object to help.

‘Hey.’ Sam grabbed it from her. ‘That’s a pallet knife.’ He gave her another screwdriver, and they scraped. ‘What do you think this is?’ Sam picked up strands of green stuff from the floor. ‘It’s wound round the axel.’

Kitty shrugged. Could be anything. Grass from our day out, maybe?

Sam sprinkled the stuff into the palm of his hand. ‘No, it’s not grass. It’s got fronds. Look.’ He held out his palm to show her, and she shrugged. ‘No idea. Does it matter?’

‘It’s a potential clue to where the trolley’s been. I don’t imagine it picked this up in the woods.’

‘You are taking this investigation seriously,’ Kitty chuckled.

Sam shrugged. ‘I have a feeling about this thing.’

Kitty respected intuition. ‘Well, if you think we ought to get that stuff analysed, I’ve got a contact who can help.’

Sam found an old envelope and slid the sprigs inside. ‘It wouldn’t hurt, would it?’

‘Nope. Not at all.’ Kitty pushed the package into her back pocket. ‘I’ll take that plastic sheet, too.’

It took a further half hour to clean up the wheels, leaving more of the unidentified plant matter on the floor. Sam dug out some cooking oil and greased the joints, and they took turns pulling one another along. The cart rumbled over the bare floorboards, its wheels turning in buckled circles making the wooden seat rise and fall like a horse’s back.

Later, they sat drinking water at Sam’s paint spattered table.

‘Sam.’

‘Yes?’

‘I haven’t mentioned it before, but Max gave me his notes when I met him.’

‘Notes?’

‘From his practice. I haven’t had the guts to open them yet.’ She fiddled with a paintbrush. ‘Will you read them with me?’

‘Whatever you want. And I must remember to get hold of the court transcripts. We could read those at the same time.’

Kitty spread the bristles of a paintbrush with her thumb. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t ask more questions before.’

Sam plucked the paintbrush from her grip and dropped it into a pot. ‘I feel the same. We’re like World War One soldiers. They didn’t talk about their experiences because they were too horrendous, and nobody would’ve understood, anyway.’

‘Yes, but we had each other. We all understood. We’d all been through the same thing.’

‘Some things are difficult to raise. I bet,’ Sam hesitated, ‘In fact I know that if I talk about that time, I’ll struggle to cope with my feelings.’ As if to prove his point, tears oozed over his lashes, and Kitty patted his arm.

‘I’m OK,’ he gulped. ‘I’m OK. Really.’ He went to take her hand, but it had gone so he blew his nose and cleared his throat. ‘We may as well get this over with. Do you have a court contact, to go with your plant expert?’

~~~

A fortnight later, they sat in Kitty’s compact living room with a sheaf of Max’s notes on the cushion beside Kitty and the pages of court transcript on her lap. Her eyes flicked from side to side as she read each sheet.

The trial judge was Lord William Cannon. She skipped the procedural details and went straight to the beginning of the prosecution’s opening remarks.

David Fitzsimmons (Prosecutor): My Lord, members of the jury, we are here to show that Paul James Thomas pushed his ex-wife, who was newly married to Mr Maximus James William Owen-Rutherford, from a cliff top in Mauritius, where she was enjoying her honeymoon. I will show that