The Silent Suspect by Nell Pattison (epub e ink reader .TXT) 📕

I frowned. I thought Singh explained everything to you yesterday?

She rolled her eyes. He only gave me the basics, said that it was better if you told me. What were you doing? Was it just a random mugging, or was it something else? I know you and Sasha have been digging into this case.

Groaning, I laid my head back on my pillow. I really didn’t want to have to go through everything again, but I knew Anna wouldn’t let me relax until I answered her questions. I took her through what had happened, ignoring her every time she tried to interrupt, much to her annoyance.

I need to call Sasha, I told Anna once I’d finished my story. She’ll be expecting me in work today. She had brought me a bag of things, including my phone charger, which I plugged in next to my bed.

I can do that, she told me, snatching my phone from the bedside table and scrolling through to get Sasha’s number. I was going to protest, but I realised I might as well let Anna do this for me, so that she could feel like she’d helped. While she called Sasha, I dragged myself to the bathroom, my head throbbing as soon as I stood up. She had also brought me a change of clothes and a towel, so I stepped into the shower in the hope that hot water would help to relieve some aches and pains, but the pathetic trickle I managed to conjure up was only lukewarm.

Better? Anna asked me when I emerged from the bathroom.

I nodded, then winced at the movement. Yes, a little bit.

Have you seen a doctor yet today? she asked, helping me back over to the bed.

Not yet. The nurse said they’d probably be round late morning. Then they’ll decide if I need any scans. I scowled at the thought of having to stay in hospital any longer. I understood why Singh had brought me to A&E instead of taking me home like I’d asked, but I was still annoyed about it.

The thought of Singh gave me a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’d never seen him as angry as he was last night, and the fact that it had been levelled at me made me feel sick. The one thing I didn’t tell Anna about was my stupid, impulsive moment where I had kissed Singh. I hoped that hadn’t contributed to his anger. I still felt absolutely mortified about it, and I was worried he would avoid me from now on. There was also a big hard lump of disappointment in my throat when I thought about it – I was realising more and more that I had feelings for Singh and the rejection hurt. I knew it had been the wrong time and place, but it had felt so right, and I was sure I hadn’t imagined him kissing me back for a moment before he pulled away.

But then, I’d had a bump on the head, so maybe it was just wishful thinking. The last thing I needed right now was to fall out with him, after everything I’d been through recently. Should I call him and apologise? Or would he still be too angry to speak to me?

Anna was watching me intently, and I wondered if she had an idea of what I was thinking.

Is Rav coming back to see you today? she asked, and I could see in her eyes that there were dozens of other questions she wanted to ask, but I just shook my head.

No. I left it at that, despite the disappointment on her face. What did Sasha say? I asked, trying to move the conversation away from Singh.

She gave me a look, telling me she knew I was changing the subject and would be asking her questions soon enough. Well, obviously, she was very worried about you and wanted to make sure you’re okay. She said she’d come down to visit you.

She doesn’t need to, I replied, but Anna made a gesture to show it was out of her hands now. I could call Sasha myself and tell her not to come, but it might be a good opportunity to tell her what I had seen Mariusz doing, and that my notebook had been taken from my car. I’d left out that last detail when I told Anna what had happened, just saying that my car had been rifled. I was starting to panic about the information in there and who might have got their hands on it. Someone must have realised that Sasha and I were getting close to the truth and wanted to find out how much we knew. But which of the potential suspects could have taken it?

Where were you last night? I asked Anna, trying to steer the conversation away from me and why someone mugged me and ransacked my car. You’ve been out a lot recently.

Her face coloured slightly, and I thought she was going to avoid answering, but then a small smile crept across her face.

I was on a date, she told me.

Ooh, tell me more, I replied, shifting slightly on the bed so I could see her better.

He’s called Jonathan. She went on to describe his looks and personality, the few dates they’d been on and her excitement at meeting someone, and I was thrilled to see genuine happiness lighting her up from the inside.

So what does he do? How did you meet?

At this question, she looked at the floor, embarrassed.

What? I asked. Oh God, he’s not your student, is he?

No! Nothing like that. He’s … well, actually, he’s an interpreter.

I slotted a couple of pieces of the puzzle together in my mind. He’s been your interpreter for your support group, hasn’t he? That’s why you don’t want to go any more, because you can’t date him while he’s interpreting for you.

Anna blushed a deep scarlet and I laughed, which made her laugh too.

You know you can just