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

He did. She exhibited none of the Kitty-esque anger he had expected, and that made him sad.

Without moving her head, Kitty shifted her pupils from the spider to the door. ‘Where’s Dad gone?’

He hated to lie to her. ‘I think they had some appointment. Sorry, I didn’t pay much attention.’

56 ANWEN

On Sam’s instruction, Anwen pulled the door shut behind her. A few yards away, her sister was frozen with her mouth covered by both hands, staring at the drama playing out in the foyer. Paul, his venomous expression unfamiliar to Anwen who had seen cheerful and petulant in equal measure, was being arrested by an attractive Asian policeman. He was saying something she could not make out, and she sped to Cerys’s side in time to hear,

‘… caused the death of Fiona Owen, formerly Thomas, by pushing her to her death from a cliff, on the island of Mauritius.’

What? In a haze of confusion, Anwen wriggled her fingers between the taut side of her sister’s abdomen and her tense bicep. Cerys moaned and swayed, and Anwen gripped her arm, watching in dismay as the officers turned to lead her sister’s new husband from the building. ‘Where are you taking him,’ she shouted? ‘Can we come too?’

The second policeman turned to them with reassuring calmness. ‘Mr Thomas will be taken to Chelterton Police Station to be interviewed. I suggest you go home and organise a lawyer. There’s no point in coming to the station.’

‘Thank you,’ Anwen murmured. She extricated her hand and put an arm round Cerys’s shoulders, giving her a squeeze. ‘Come on, Sis, let’s go home. Paul needs our help. Have you got the car keys?’

‘Paul’s got them.’ Cerys whispered.

Outside, an officer was helping Paul into the rear of the car. Anwen trotted towards him calling, ‘Hey! We need the car keys.’

Paul raised his eyebrows to his captor, and on his nodded permission, dug in his pocket. As he passed the keys to Anwen, he muttered, ‘Tell Cerys not to worry. I didn’t do it.’

Anwen nodded and ran back to Cerys. Her sister was Anwen’s main concern now. ‘Paul says not to worry, he didn’t do it.’ She handed over the keys. ‘You sure you’re OK to drive? We can call a taxi.’

Cerys blinked into consciousness. ‘I’m OK Lovely, just shocked, like.’

They sat in rigid silence while the car stopped and started at junctions and lights. Anwen raked through her memory for anything she knew about Paul’s history. There was nothing, apart from what Kitty had told her, that Fee was murdered and that a man (Matt something?) went to prison for it. Kitty said this Matt - no, it was Max - still protested his innocence, even though he had served his full sentence.

She thought back to earlier. Sam had told her to close the door - that must have been to protect Kitty. Anwen understood that much. She longed to learn more from him, he must know something; he seemed unsurprised by Paul’s arrest. She stared through the windscreen, longing to talk this through with someone, but the only available person was sitting beside her.

At home, the house seemed too ordinary. Anwen flung her coat over the newel post, and for once Cerys did not tell her off. Instead, she stood in the hallway like a rundown toy. Anwen touched her arm. ‘You should sit down in the lounge… Do you want tea?’ Cerys sighed. ‘I wouldn’t mind something stronger.’

‘You shouldn’t, should you? Not while you’re expecting.’

Cerys flopped down in an armchair, ‘I suppose not. I’ll have water then.’

They sat in their usual spots, deep in the plumped-up cushions, sipping from tumblers and staring at nothing, then Anwen put her glass on a coaster. ‘Cerys, there’s something I should have told you.’

Cerys’s head snapped up. ‘What? What haven’t you told me?’

‘Kitty was investigating the deaths of her mum, Fiona - Fee, and Sam’s mum who had some strange name I can’t remember. They were both murdered.’ She eyed Cerys, who sat forward on the edge of the cushion with her legs parted to make room for her bump, ‘A man called Max something or other was charged with killing them, back in the early two thousands, and he’s recently finished serving his sentence.’

‘How did you find all this out?’

‘Kitty told me. Remember, I told you someone murdered her mum?’

Cerys nodded.

‘You seemed upset, so I didn’t tell you the rest then, and I haven’t had much chance since. Anyway, surely Paul told you most of it once you raised it with him.’

Cerys frowned. ‘No. He didn’t. Is there anything else?’

‘A bit.’ Anwen twisted her glass, grinding it on the surface of the coaster, then stopped at a look from Cerys. ‘Sam’s helping Kitty. The two of them are piecing together their memories and finding people from their childhood to create a spreadsheet and a time-line to prove that this Max must have done the murders and therefore Paul couldn’t have.’

‘And have they found anything?’

Anwen shrugged.

‘Let’s talk to Sam.’ Cerys stood and grabbed the seat to steady herself.

Anwen bounced to her feet. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine, Lovely, just stood up too fast. Now, we need to find a solicitor. Where’s that computer of yours?’

~~~

Without Sam’s number, the best way for Cerys and Anwen to catch him was to loiter in the hospital with Kitty until he turned up. This they did the following day. Having told Kitty that Paul was unwell, they pursued a stilted conversation until, to the relief of them all, Sam strode in. He nodded to Anwen and Cerys, saying nothing about Paul’s absence, instead declaring his pleasure at seeing them again so soon.

Cerys gave him a look of relief. ‘We’re just leaving, actually. Anwen has homework