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

‘I’m off now, Cerys. Thanks so much for a wonderful do.’

Cerys reached up to receive an embrace. ‘Don’t be a stranger, Kitty. Your dad misses you when you’re away.’

Kitty scanned the room again. ‘Where is he?’

‘Oh, somewhere about.’ Cerys looked done in.

‘Well, tell him goodbye, will you? I want to get home before this rain sets in.’

‘I will Lovely. Take care, won’t you?’

48 LUCAS

Mick and Maurice sat themselves on either side of Lucas, who had retreated to the perimeter of the festivities to watch his friends jig on the dance floor.

‘Not having a bop?’ Mick grinned at his son.

‘My feet hurt.’

‘You need more stamina. When I was your age, I’d spend all evening in the kitchen then be out clubbing ‘til two.’

Lucas directed his eyes to heaven. ‘Are you kidding, Dad? I remember you dropping off in the armchair after lunch service, let alone evening service.’

Maurice looked around the restaurant. ‘Where’s Kitty?’

‘She said she was going home.’ Lucas’s face grew serious and he leaned towards the two men. ‘Did you know she’s investigating Paul’s case again? Anwen told me she’s going over the whole thing, searching for new evidence.

Maurice said, ‘Why would she do that?’

‘Apparently, Max Rutherford’s out of jail and still claiming he didn’t murder Fee, so Kitty’s decided to shut him up by searching for more proof of Paul’s innocence.’

Maurice and Mick stared at Lucas in silence.

Lucas rose and winced at the pain in his feet. ‘Anyone want a drink?’ he asked.

‘Not for me,’ said Maurice. ‘I’m driving. Leaving in a minute’

Mick also declined, ‘I’m going to get an early night as well. I’m getting too old for all this malarkey.’ He raised his eyebrows to Lucas. ‘You OK finishing here?’

‘Sure, Dad. Everything OK?’

‘Fine. It’s been a long day, that’s all; and I didn’t sleep well last night.’

49 KITTY

In the Ladies’ toilet, Kitty changed into her leathers and slipped from the noisy restaurant into the melancholy hush of the dark car park. A black perimeter of trees formed a dense barrier between the restaurant car park and the church, and to the rear, the houses on an estate. Only the drip, drip of the rain from sagging leaves, and an occasional hiss of tyres on the wet High Street broke the silence. A movement in the bushes made her heart bump, and she peered into the gloom, but there was nothing.

Shaking off her unease, she mounted the Matchless and stepped on the pedal. Its roar ruptured the quiet of the night, and as she swung round towards the exit, she searched for anything unusual in the bike’s headlights as they bobbed over the glistening bushes. Satisfied she was alone, she taxied onto the road.

Breaking from the town, she powered along the wide road, the rain coming at her like needles. Once again, she wished she had a car. The headlights of a people-carrier reflected off the wet road causing Kitty to squint, then tense in anticipation of a towering lorry behind it. The huge vehicle thundered past, sending up streams of spray. Its driver had his eyes focussed on the road ahead, oblivious to her small figure far below. A car overtook her with a hoot of its horn, and she decelerated, dropping back to escape the blinding spray thrown up in its wake.

She was approaching her favourite part of the route - the section that would remind her why she loved her bike. This stretch of road buckled into a series of curves that snaked between the rising folds of land on either side. On a fine day, the surrounding scenery was spectacular, but tonight offered only the opportunity to accelerate and enjoy the thrill of speed - moderated because of the conditions.

She approached the first bend and took a breath of damp air, enjoying the pressure of the wind on her leathers, ignoring the rain. At the beginning of the curve, she tested the road for traction then, comfortable with the surface, wound up the speed, leaning into the bend then out then coming upright to blast down the straight. There was a row of cottages on her left, their lamps glowing through closed curtains, and she slowed to reduce the noise of her engine, then at the next bend she risked more speed. By a miracle, the shining tarmac was deserted, and her heart rose with exhilaration as she and the bike sped towards it. She flattened the bend by clipping the dotted line, and roared round, already preparing for the next bend.

But something was wrong. A glimpsed movement to her left confused her, then the beam of her headlamp caught the smooth wing of a car accelerating towards her from the verge. It leapt at her like an angry elephant from the jungle. With a surge of adrenalin, she yanked the Matchless to the right, but could not save herself. The bike’s wheels went from under her and it skidded onto its side. Kitty hit the road at high speed and as the engine whined at its loss of traction, her leg hit the road and she felt her hip then her shoulder crack and toboggan along the unforgiving surface. In terror she covered her head with her spare arm and closed her eyes. Her helmet clanged onto the tarmac, and the bumper of the car was upon her.

50 SAM

Sam crouched beside the metal bed, gaping in deep fear at his beloved Kitty. A thick layer of bandage swathed her head, and one of her legs was suspended about six inches above the mattress by an arrangement of ropes and pulleys. A canvas tent-like structure was erected over her lower torso, which Sam knew hid a metal bar, screwed into either side