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

Kitty, but that would be an unpleasant conversation. She was touchy, not to mention stubborn, and he berated himself for agreeing to talk about it all. Tonight, he decided, he would drink too much and forget about Anwen and Kitty, and his mother, of whom he remembered little, anyway.

He put on clean jeans and a tee shirt and walked to the pub. His mates were outside in the warm air, pints balanced on window ledges and feet planted on paving slabs. Jokes abounded and women were eyed up. Most of these men were married, some with small children. Josh knew that most were faithful, but it did not stop them fantasising – or perhaps it was bravado that made them loud in their analysis of breasts and bottoms. He was not in the mood, though, and the beer that he bought himself, did not have its desired effect. Instead of becoming raucous and laughing like his mates; he grew morose.

Someone suggested a meal, and he went along with the idea, thinking they meant a take-away or curry. He did not expect to fetch up in Mick and Luc’s restaurant, embarrassed at being a member of an antisocial and inebriated crowd in Churchills’ subdued atmosphere. His friends crowded round a table seeming noisier than ever and he chastised them. ‘Shush guys. You’re making a nuisance of yourselves. You sure you wouldn’t prefer a Chinese?’

They would not, and Josh decided to leave them to it. He did not wish to meet Lucas, surrounded by a group of drunken construction workers. ‘I might get off,’ he said and stood up.

The others grinned at him. ‘Can’t take the pace, eh?’

‘Something like that.’ He pulled on his jacket and was pushing his seat under the table when a voice behind him called, ‘Josh? Is that you?’ He turned to find Lucas coming from the kitchen, dressed in spattered chef’s whites.

‘Hi Luc. Good to see you.’ Josh took a step towards his friend, realising he was glad to see him. ‘I was about to leave this lot to it. It’s been a long day.’ He lowered his voice and jerked his head at the rowdy group. ‘I hope they’re not being too noisy.’

Lucas smiled. ‘Don’t worry. They’re fine. We don’t mind a few high spirits.’ Realising his double entendre with the word spirits, he laughed and said, ‘If you see what I mean.’ Then he looked hard at Josh. ‘Are you OK, mate?’

Josh shrugged. ‘I’m OK.’

Unconvinced, Lucas nodded towards the staff door. ‘Need a chat?’

Josh did. Maybe it was the drink, but he wanted to discuss the matter of Kitty and Anwen’s so-called investigation.

42 KITTY

After lunch at Le Chamarel, Kitty, with Sam hovering near, climbed the threatening rock. At its peak, she dropped to the ground and swung her legs over the edge to sit at a spot she thought Fee might have sat. Sam squatted beside her and together they leaned forward to gaze down at the foaming waves attacking knife-like spikes of larva. Fee would have had no chance on those cruel shards. Kitty swallowed and whispered, ‘At least it would have been quick.’

Sam caught her hand and pulled her to her feet. saying, ‘Come on. We’re not doing any good here, and we’ve got work to do.’

Kitty nodded and wiped her eyes with the heal of her hand. They scrambled back down the slope and retraced their steps to the town.

Among the shops and bars on the sea front stood an imposing hotel that Kitty seemed to recognise. With a tingle of apprehension, she ventured, with Sam, up its white stone steps and through a sleek entrance. The hushed and efficient atmosphere in the cool foyer was as she remembered - as it had been on her arrival here with Fee and Will after their wedding.

Through an archway to her left she could see part of a dining room. Nobody was eating now, and staff were laying the tables, placing cutlery on white cloths and polishing glasses with care that was almost like reverence. This was where she, Mummy and Max had eaten after the ceremony. She did not recall what they ate but remembered being captivated by the vivid flowers scattered across the tablecloth. Her mother shone with happiness, and Max, attentive to both their needs, had winked across the table at Kitty, acknowledging their conspiracy. And she winked back, proud to have been part of the surprise. Scores of times had that moment returned to Kitty over the ensuing years, and with it a deep sense of shame that she had conspired in her mother’s demise. It was this guilt that fuelled her journalistic drive to uncover inequity and crime.

As she gazed around the elegant foyer, she murmured to Sam, ‘This is where Max and Fee stayed.’ She used her mother’s name to impose emotional distance. When Sam fixed his eyes on her face, she glared back. ‘What?’

‘You OK?’

‘I'm fine.’ She folded her arms across her chest and kept her eyes on the reception desk. ‘Don’t be kind or I won’t be.’

An exit beside the desk led outside to a swimming pool. Two women with thin, sagging thighs, wearing one-piece swimsuits and wrapped in towels, shuffled in, letting the heavy doors close behind them in a burst of children’s shrieks and splashes. Then the doors closed once more, and the foyer retuned to its church-like hush.

Behind the desk two women and a man dressed in uniforms trimmed with gold carried out administrative duties. They chatted in low voices as they worked. Kitty approached them wearing her ‘honest’ face: eyebrows raised, eyes wide and a Mona Lisa smile. ‘Good afternoon,’ she said and leaned her elbows on the counter.

One of the women returned her smile. ‘Good morning Madam, how may I help you?’

‘Gosh, is it only morning. It’s been a long day already.’ Kitty laughed and slid her business