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

Anwen’s thoughts charged ahead. If Kitty had offered her work, other people might need her help too. She raised the idea with Kitty, who was not so upbeat about it, worrying that the girl was too young to be working for strangers.

With a flash of rebelliousness that would have brought a frown to Cerys’s brow, Anwen determined to find another client. She thought about her new family. Perhaps there was some person among them who might need a cleaner. Her attention came back to Kitty, who had been talking.

‘… I need a break, but I haven’t decided where to go.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said. Are you going on holiday?’

‘I might. I am tired. I haven’t taken any time off in ages, and now I have you to help,’ she grinned, ‘I can have some me time.’

‘Who would you go with?’

Kitty shrugged. ‘I’m short on flexible friends.’ She paused. ‘But there’s Sam.’

‘Sam? A man?’

Kitty laughed at Anwen’s look of disapproval. ‘Yes, he was a man last time I checked. Is there something wrong with that?’

Anwen looked at her ice cream. It was melting, and although delicious, it was making her feel a little queasy. She dropped her spoon into the glass coupe and as it sank through grey-brown gloop to the bottom, she planted her eyes on Kitty. ‘Do you love him?’

For a heartbeat, Kitty’s face was unfathomable, and Anwen worried she had said something wrong. ‘Sorry,’ she blurted. ‘It’s not my business. I said what Mam would have said. Well, actually, she would have belted you one and shut you in your room for saying you were going away with a man.’

Kitty gave a half smile. ‘Sam’s been in my life since I was about five. I meant he could come as a friend.’

Anwen said, ‘Will he understand that you are just friends?’

Kitty stared through the window at a passing bus, that made the windows rattle and blinked out the light. ‘It’s not a proper holiday, actually. We’re working together on a case.’

The group of mothers behind Anwen began strapping their babies into buggies. Amid their bustling, she pushed aside her ice cream and leaned her arms on the table. ‘What case?’

‘It’s a long story,’ said Kitty. ‘I’m not sure how much you’ve been told about my past, but my mum was murdered, and so was Sam’s mum. Basically, Sam and I are investigating that.’

‘Don’t they know who did it then?’

‘They do, yes. A man was released from prison a short while ago after serving time for their murders, but he says he’s innocent.’

‘So, you’re trying to prove he is?’

‘No. I‘m going to prove he’s guilty.’

Buggies and toddlers squeezed past as Kitty spoke. A mum in baggy dungarees, a long plait hanging down the centre of her back, threw them a curious look.

Kitty sat up straight and said, ‘Anyway, enough of that. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’ Her voice became business like. ‘Come on. Time to go.’

Anwen was fascinated. Why would Kitty want to prove this strange man’s guilt? The court had presumably done that already. She begged to hear more, but Kitty was firm. They slid from their seats and after settling the bill at the counter, Kitty said to Anwen, ‘I’ll pop you home on the bike, if you like.’

All thought of the investigation vanished at this exciting prospect.

33 ANWEN

‘How was school?’ Cerys called to her young sister.

‘Not bad.’ And this time, it was not a lie.

‘That’s good.’ Cerys, who was swabbing kitchen units, grunted as she bent to wipe splashes off a cupboard door. ‘Want a cuppa, Lovely?’

‘Thanks. I’ll be there in a minute.’ Anwen draped her coat over the banister rail and dropped her school bag against the wall in the hall.

Cerys came to the kitchen door and put her knuckles on her hips. ‘I see you’ve shaken off Mam’s influence at last, but,’ she bent towards Anwen, ‘Some things are still rules. Take the bag and the coat to your room, Anwen. Keep the place nice for Paul.’

‘Sorry.’ Anwen grabbed her things and ran upstairs. After throwing them into the bottom of her wardrobe, she flipped up the lid of her laptop and woke up Facebook. She had several notifications. Charlie and six girls - not ‘Popular Ones’ thank goodness - had accepted her friend requests. She sat down to explore timelines. Charlie’s was full of spelling mistakes, but it had a spirited feel, with links to YouTube videos of animals doing daft things, and pictures of footballers. On other pages, she scrolled through the owners’ selfies and read their boasts of intoxication. Less shocked now by the low morals of her fellow students, her principal worry was where she should draw the line herself. The straitjacket in which she grew up no longer existed. Cerys and Paul had a few slack rules, but it was tricky to work out how far to stretch them. Today, with Charlie, she had tried out the word fuck to see how it felt. He had laughed his socks off at her. ‘You can’t swear, Blod. It sounds all wrong.’

His use of her nickname made her hot with rage and she screamed at him, her body tense and shaking, ‘Don’t you dare call me that, you fuckwit.’

He stepped backwards. ‘That’s better, girl. Now you sound like you mean it.’ Charlie patted her arm. ‘Sorry. It was meant to be a friendly name.’

She relaxed then, and a moment later shrieked with laughter. Soon the two of them were rolling on the grass with tears pouring from their eyes. ‘Fuckwit haha. Fuck, fuck, fucking fuckwit.’

Anwen closed her laptop and went to find her tea, wondering what her timeline would look like in twelve months’ time.

The kitchen shone, and Cerys was sitting at the table, fanning her face with a baby magazine. ‘Help yourself