Molly

 

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Molly

Chapter one

Helen

    I vigorously brush my hair and persuade it into a ponytail, before applying a light coating of lip-gloss. I smile, pleased with the result, demur, with a hint of mischief. I decide, as sparkling blue eyes gazed back at me, taking in my pale brown hair. That was neither blonde nor brown. I sigh at the cards Mother Nature dealt me, and decide that would have to do. Leaving my bedroom I walked downstairs taking my coat of the coat hook. I slip it on before picking up my car keys and bag.

    Closing the front door behind me, I walked to the car pressing the key fob to unlock it. Opening the door I slid into the driver’s seat, and put the key in the ignition, before reaching across for the satnav.

    “Now what was the name of that village?” I frowned, as I tried to remember. “Ah I remember Great Houghton.” I type in the village name and then stick the satnav to the window where I can see it. Getting comfortable, I then turn the key and reverse the car off the drive. To go to yet another riveting interview, of some old lady for the local newspaper. Who would have thought all that work at university to spend my time listening to crazy old ladies, and if I’m really lucky report on the strange veg competition at some local village fete.

    I can still picture my stupid bosses face, as he leers at me.Trying to look down my blouse jeez. He sits on the corner of my desk totally invading my personal space.

    “Some kids from the university have dug up some bones in some field,” he had said. They have DNA matched them to a woman living in the nearby village. I want you to talk to her find out how she feels about being related to this Roman family, and why they want the bones reburied in the church yard. You know the sort of thing Helen.” Oh yeah, I know the sort of thing.

    Yeah, yeah same old same old, no Pulitzer prize for this garbage. I indicate and turn off the motorway. Half an hour later I am pulling into the village, Great Monkton, with the satnav telling me I have reached my destination. Which of course I hadn't, I had just reached a village. It had about twenty houses, and a pub, plus a little shop. The sort of place people who have given up on life, retire to die.

    I drive through the village, to the last cottage, in the distance, I can see the standing stones that put this nothing Village on the map. I carefully park the car by the grass verge outside the cottage. Oh great, no pavement, just mud, should have worn Wellies.

    I climb out of the car, and gingerly negotiate the grass verge, push the garden gate open and make my way along the garden path to the front door. In my hand I clutch my handbag and car keys. Juggling my bag and keys, I knock on the door. I can hear footsteps as someone comes to open it. I stand back, and straighten my skirt as best I can.

    I plaster a smile on my face, as I am confronted by a tall elegant young lady. If I had to guess I would put her at early twenties. Shit, I have the wrong house. This is the only coherent thought that registers in my brain. She stands one hand still resting on the door and blinks at me.

    “Oh, sorry, I may have the wrong house?” I fish in my bag and pull out the piece of paper. I notice the girl gazes at me with a mixture of impatience and pity. God I hate young people, was I that superior at that age. Oh yeah absolutely. “Ah, here, sorry,” I apologize again. “Um Davenport, I’m looking for a Doctor Davenport?” I smile as I take in every detail of the girl stood before me she is very striking with straight black hair that falls to her shoulders. She is surveying me with the most intense blue eyes I have ever seen, that almost distract you from her straight nose, high cheekbones, and sculptured lips. Giving her an overall angular set of features, that aren't unattractive but not beautiful either. Her face is complemented by her tall willowy figure and I am so jealous, I bet she never has to worry about diets is the only thought in my head. She still hasn't said anything, which is slightly unnerving.

    “Um, I am the journalist from the gazette. I believe you are expecting me?” I manage to say, mentally kicking myself for being so thrown off balance.

    “You’re expected, you had better come in, while I fetch zio papa” She holds the door wider so I can step inside. As she disappears further into the house, giving me chance to take in my surroundings. The walls are painted cream and quite plain, and as I look at my feet I notice the wood block flooring, very seventies I grin. It feels very masculine, the only feminine touch is a flower arrangement on a little table which also has a glass bowl with various keys in.

    I look up as the girl reappears “Zio papa will see you in the kitchen” She says in her soft voice, and indicates to me to follow her. She leads me into a bright homey kitchen, with painted units and wooden worktops, in the center is a pine table with six brightly painted chairs of different primary colors. I pull one out and sit down placing my handbag on the tiled floor. I am alone and take the opportunity to survey the kitchen from the traditional butler sink to the yellow gingham curtains framing the window. The girl sticks her head round the door.

    “He won’t be long,…make yourself comfortable” she smiles at me and is gone again. I am not on my own long as I slip my coat off, and hang it on the back of my chair, an elderly gentleman enters the kitchen he looks to be in his early seventies with his steel grey hair and a pair of intense blue eyes, just like the girls who showed me in, probably her grandfather I decide.

    “Miss Sear, a pleasure to meet you. I hope your journey wasn't to tiresome.” I don’t know why, but I automatically stand up to shake his outstretched hand.

    “Um no very pleasant, the countryside is stunning here” I smile while shaking his hand, marvelling at his firm grip for such an elderly man. “I was led to believe I was interviewing a lady a Mrs Davenport?”

    “No I am the only Doctor Davenport, my wife passed some years ago.” He smiles at me his eyes twinkling.

    “Oh sorry” I apologize, seems to be all I do here, and make a mental note to have a go at my boss when I get back to the office.I am intrigued by this family and there link to the Roman bodies.

    “May I offer you anything tea, coffee?” Doctor Davenport asks.

    “No thank you.” I sit back down, as Doctor Davenport pulls out a chair. I reach into my bag and retrieve my note book and recorder and patiently wait.

    “Well Miss Sear, what did you want to ask me?” Doctor Davenport smiles at me, leaning back in his chair; his blue eyes alert his mouth almost in a smile. I feel heat in my cheeks at his scrutiny, as I scan my note book, and the notes I made earlier at the office.

    “Um, well why do you want to rebury the bones in the church yard?” I decide this is as good a first question as any.

    “Is it not natural to want to bury ones family appropriately?” Oh didn't expect that answer. Family, the bones are two thousand years old, not really close family. Hell, my family doesn't go back two generations without gaps. I purse my lips, and narrow my eyes at him, he looks amused, I have a feeling this isn't going to be as straight forward as I thought.

    “Well yes, but these are hardly close family are they? What are they about two thousand years old?” I challenge to see where he is going to go with this, how he will react.

    “What if I told you that they are close family, close immediate family?”

    “I would say, how can that be, and how could you prove such a thing?” I frown, at his ludicrous answer, since we have already established that these bones are two thousand years old. I raise a brow, at him indicating I want, no need, an explanation. He takes my hint.

    “Well, what if I told you I had documentation to prove that.” He smiles that annoying enigmatic smile.

    “I would be very interested in seeing that documentation.” I reply, raising one brow. I am really intrigued now, this isn't turning out anything like I expected.

    Doctor Davenport climbs to his feet and leaves the room, returning a few minutes later with an envelope. He sits back in his chair and opens the envelope. I watch in silence, as he pulls out a collection of photographs, placing them on the table between us.

    I gaze at them for a moment, and then pick the first one up .I study it; it is of a young boy of about seventeen or eighteen. He is leaning against a Racing green sports car, grinning widely. He has very black hair, and laughing blue eyes, and the same angular features as the girl that showed me in, but somehow these features look better, more attractive on a boys face. I place it back down on the table, and pick up the next one. I still cannot see how these pictures prove anything. Doctor Davenport watches me, he makes no comment. This is a picture of the same boy, with his distinctive black hair and blue eyes. The boy has his arm around a girl; she has waist length pale blonde hair. They were a striking couple, almost polar opposites as far as coloring goes. I smile at it, and put it back on the table and look up at Doctor Davenport.

    “I don’t see how those photos can be linked to the Roman bones. The boy looks as if he could be with his dark looks, but I can’t see what they prove just two beautiful children.” I notice him flinch at my use of the word bones. He doesn't answer me and I feel a little unnerved.

    He passes me another photo of the same young couple, but now they are dressed as Romans. They are lounging in an ornate room, the walls of which are covered in brightly colored mosaics. It is absolutely stunning, the colors so vibrant. I place that one on the table with the others, as he passes me some more. They are of a family I can see that, with the occasional serving girl, they are all looking relaxed. I notice none of them are smiling into the camera, but just going about their day to day business. There is even a couple of a Roman Centurion. It seemed to me they had been photographed without their knowledge, as none of the photos appeared posed. I place them all back on the table and glance up at Doctor Davenport.

    “I am sorry I still don’t understand” I gaze at the Doctor, despite what I just said I have a shrewd idea what he is going to say. I wait patiently for him to speak. I glance at the clock on the microwave and notice I have already been here over an hour, and yet it feels like no time at all.

    “The two teenagers in those photographs are my niece and ward and that is my wards family home and his family. Rufus my ward took them without anyone knowing on one of his trips back home.” He passed her some pictures of the Villa in the field, the floor of one of the rooms covered in the same brightly colored Mosaics as in the previous pictures.

    “So your niece and ward belonged to a re-enactment group” I know I am only saying this to provoke him, get a reaction as I know deep down there is no re-enactment group, I know the pictures are real.

    “No, I am telling you the bones they have found are my wards immediate family.” Doctor Davenport leaned back in his chair, studying my face. What for, to hear me gasp in disbelief, or laugh in his face, I am not going to do either of those things, instead I wait for him to continue.

    “The Villa in the field was my wards childhood home” He says quietly, watching me intently with his eyes, scanning my features waiting for me to react. I am not going to laugh, something in my gut believes him and I want an explanation to such a strange thing to say.

    “I think, Doctor Davenport, you need to start at the beginning.” I answer, not flinching from his intense gaze.

    “Think you may be right Miss Sear.” Doctor Davenport smiles at me, and leans back in his chair, a slight smile playing around his mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Paul Booth

Just added two more chapters more will follow. It was originally written in the third person ,but my editor suggested it would be more interesting if i changed it to first person with four people telling the story.

Chapter Two

Molly

 

 

    Oh yes this top looks so much better on me, What was Gemma thinking, her boobs are far too big to look good in this. Oh heck, where is that hair brush, ah there it is, up or down? Up, awesome, I am looking good today. Now got everything, yep, right let’s do this. I sigh, taking one final look in the mirror. The passably alright looking seventeen year old girl, looks back at me. To be honest, I think I am just a little to pale, and the fine hair the colour of spun sugar really wasn't helping the look. Oh well, can’t be helped and I picked up my bag.

    “Molly, are you ready, will you hurry up?” Oh lord, mums shouting again, does she not know this level of nonchalant sophistication takes time? Nope probably not, bless her.

    “Yeah, mum coming?” I call from the top of the stairs, in an effort to placate her. I am ready, I pick up my iPod and shove it into my bag, as I know from experience, there will be a moment on this trip that I will have drown out there old fogey music, or kill myself. I run down the stairs as fast as I can, in these heels not easy to accomplish, slamming the front door I run to the car, climbing in I get comfortable and slip my seat belt on. I lean over to Michael my baby brother, who is regarding me with his large blue eyes.

     “Hi small bloke, looking good. Oh, no don’t dribble. Here, let me get that for you. Right, now I can kiss you” I wipe his chin with a tissue out of my bag, and plant a large kiss on his cheek, making slurping noises at the same time. Michael giggles and tries his best to grab a handful of my hair.

    I move out of his reach and pop his dummy back in his mouth, looking up I notice my dad grinning while watching us in the rear view mirror, only looking away as mum gets in the car.

 

 

    “Right is everyone ready now. Molly you ready?” my dad inquires still grinning. He fancies himself as a comedian he really isn't.

    “Yeah dad, always ready for these family outings” oh, I hope that sounded sincere rather than sarcastic. I settle back into my seat on the plus side I am going to see uncle John I have sort of missed him since he moved out and had to get a job now he had finished medical school.

    “Oh lord please not radio two old people alert. Where did I put my iPod? Ha, there it is praise the lord.” I mutter and see my dad grinning, he probably heard that comment. Sometimes he has the hearing of a bat, usually when I am swearing. I rummage in my bag and feeling my iPod, I close my fingers around it and pull it out. I stick the ear-buds in my ears and turn it on drowning out the car radio. I gaze out the window at the gloomy streets, and watch as they fade into open country side, as the relentless drizzle splatters the car and shrouds it all in grey. I feel my eyelids drooping, and give in to the urge to sleep in the warm car. Michael already has, and is half sucking his dummy. I reach out and stroke his cheek with my finger before dozing off myself.

    I wake with a start, feeling cold, a slight breeze ruffling my hair. What the hell! where am I? Why aren't I in the car? I open my eyes and gaze around me. I am outside,  not sure where, how can that be? I was asleep in the car just now. Where is everyone? Where is mum, she wouldn't leave me on my own? Probably fussing over Michael, oh I bet we have had to stop because he has filled his pants, ugh babies, disgusting. Note to self, no babies until I’m old, like at least thirty. What is that smell? Why is the fog pulsing with blue light? Shit I’m tripping. No that’s daft, I haven’t taken anything, dad would kill me. Feel really tired, maybe I will have a nap, then mum will be here and everything will be fine. Yeah that sounds like a good idea.

****

    Ugh, need a pee, but I am so comfortable, and warn must be at the hotel. Before going out with Uncle John. Great, thanks mum, sometimes she is just the best. Oh, what is that smell? Not petrol like before. Maybe I should open my eyes, ah, yes cracking idea. I can hear Uncle John, love Uncle John, why is he in my room? Oh god, I bet he’s drunk, well he’s not sleeping in my bed again, the git. I prize my eyes open to see a young woman dressed as a nurse. Why is there a nurse in my room? Oh, oh John, you filthy git, I am going to really have words with him over this, he really is the end. I sigh, and try to get comfortable again, and then realize I still need to pee. As my eyes adjust to the gloom of the room, I notice Uncle John is now stood with the nurse.

     “Uncle John? What are you doing in my room?”  I croak. Oh dry mouth how long have I been asleep. That was embarrassingly pathetic. I watch Uncle John walk over to the bed I am laying in .He picks up a cup with a straw and holds it for me to take a long suck, I swished the water around my mouth. That felt better, but now I really do need to pee.

    “Molly, thank god, thank god.” Uncle John is almost crying, what the hell is going on? Why am I in a hospital? Uncle John sits on the bed, taking my hands. I take in his appearance, he looks a mess, his blonde hair is all ruffled and the suit he has on is rumpled and creased. In fact he looks like he has been sleeping rough. On reflection, I decide there is a good chance he has. May be I should cut him some slack, I smile at him, seeing him swallow and look away. He lets go of my hands and pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly.

    This isn't normal behavior for him. Think, come on Molly, think. I feel the color drain from my face, the car, I was in the car, and then I wasn't. I frown, trying to concentrate, as all these jumbled thoughts crash about in my head. Come on brain you can do this, I urge my scattered thoughts into some sort of order. Finally, I think I have grasped what is going on, I look up at him.

    “John, where is my mum? Is she with Michael? Tell me now, and why am I in hospital? Oh, god, dad crashed?” I narrow my eyes at him giving him my best Paddington stare. He looks shifty, as he glances away and color heightens his cheek bones, and he really does look very disheveled “John tell me now, what exactly is going on here.” I glare at him making him squirm, I lose patience with him. “Oh, I need a pee.” I mutter, pushing the covers back, so I can climb out of bed. May be he will have regained his power of speech by the time I come back.

     “Molly ? what are you doing?”  John stands up to grab hold of me, as I sway unsteady on my feet, gosh how long have I been asleep?

    “I need the loo, and then I am going to find my mum” I pull out of his grip and stagger, in a truly ungainly manner toward the bathroom. I sit, and the relief is amazing. I marvel at how my brain refuses to work when I need a Pee. I get to my feet, and wash my hands, drying them, I think about Uncle John and his odd behavior.

     “Right, that’s better, now Uncle John come and sit with me, and tell me what exactly is going on.” I smile at him, deciding to talk to him like he’s a child, or a cretin, or both, as I climb back into bed. Uncle John sits on the edge of the bed, and takes my hands in his, stroking my knuckles with his thumb. Slowly he looks up and gazes at my face.

    “Uncle John, if you don’t tell me now, I am going to tell dad about that spliff you gave me.” I glare at him, raising my eyebrow, as I cross my arms over my chest. Johns mouth almost turns up in a smile, but not quite, oh what is wrong with him, he is annoying me now. He is gazing at my hands, like he has never seen them before

 

    “There was an accident” Oh praise the lord, he speaks, hang on, what did he say, an accident? I watch him as he rubs his forehead, as if trying to erase something from his memory. Then he does actually manage a proper smile. I can’t help myself and smile back, not a serious accident then, I decide as I wait, taking in his appearance once more, from his ruffled blonde hair to his creased suit and red rimmed eyes. How long has he been here he looks like he has been up all night. He has stopped talking again, so I decide to prompt him.

    “What sort of accident, where is my mum?” I ask, as gently as I can, as I watch him. Uncle John sighs, and rubs his face again before looking at me with his sad eyes.

    “There was a car accident, on the motorway. Well a pile up really, they are all gone Molly, you were thrown from the car somehow, and the police found you wandering about dazed and confused. I am so very sorry” Uncle John’s voice catches, and he rubs his eyes as trying to stop himself from crying. “Promised not to tell Josh that” John manages as tears start to run down his face.

     “Please don’t cry Uncle John.” I tell him, trying to absorb what he has just said. Who are gone, does he mean mum and dad and what about Michael. All these thoughts swirl in my head, as I gaze at him, he is crying, shit, now what do I do? He looks so young and scared. I try to remember how old he is, twenty eight possibly, he has been away for such a long time. First at uni, and then medical school.I frown, is he saying he is all have left? oh god, this is a disaster. He can’t look after me, he can only just look after himself. Oh hell, I could really do with my mum now. I reach out and wrap my arms around him in a hug, holding him tight against me. “I would never tell dad about that, it was good though, took it to a party” I grin a shaky grin and he passes me his hanky to wipe my face.

     “You smoked it?” John looks at me a little shocked, his blue eyes wide.

    “Hell yeah, weren't going to give it back to you.” John gives a shaky laugh at my reply.

    “I love you Molly Davenport, always have.” John holds me tight, as more tears fall down his cheeks. This sets me off again and we sit holding each other while we cry.

“You will have to come and live with me, as there isn't anyone else, I am so sorry.”He mumbles into my hair. 

    “I don’t even know where you live, do you have a house?” I frown at him. I want details about the accident but I don’t think I should ask him now as he looks so fragile, he is more a big brother than uncle and it would seem all I have left.

    “Yeah, I have a house, but it isn't here in London. Um is that going to be a problem?” John asks me looking unsure.

    “No, I don’t want to live here anymore” I assure him, and it is the truth, I don’t, I don’t want reminding, and I don’t want to go back to school and be an object of pity. “What about the house, I don’t want to go back there.”

 

    “Molly don’t worry…we can deal with it together” John gives me a tentative smile.

    “Well how long do I have to stay here? You could go and get my stuff from the house if you can bare it” I ask him carefully as he is still a bit teary.

     “Just one more night, and yeah I will get your stuff.” he glances at his watch, and climbs to his feet. “It’s late, you need to sleep, and I need to get changed. I um, had better go, I will be back in the morning with all your stuff” He bends down and kisses me.

    “Yeah you look awful” I quip making him smile. He kisses me again, and shuffles out the room as I snuggle down to sleep.   

 

****

 

 

    John sits on the stairs watching as I put the hoover back under the stairs, he has been very subdued since the funeral. We had arranged an intimate, quiet affair, once the coroner had released the bodies. I had sat and read the report on the accident and the coroner’s report, but I still can’t remember anything about what happened that night. The doctors told me it was the minds way of protecting its self, and it would come back with time. I am not sure I want to remember.

    In my head, I can still hear the collective sob that echoed around the church when Michael’s coffin was carried in, and placed next to my parents in the church. It was small, and white, draped in flowers, and I tried my best not to look at it next to my parents. The wake had been held at the pub, dad and John often sneaked off to on a Sunday before lunch, it had been packed and I had to endure an hour of hugging by almost complete strangers.

    Right done here, are you ready to go?” I glance up at John still sat on the stairs, like a naughty child who had been placed on the naughty step, he nods at me and slowly climbs to his feet. “The estate agent comes tomorrow, so we don’t need to come back here again. Mrs turner next door, is going to keep an eye on the place, while it is selling” I walk over to him and put my arms around him. “You alright?”  I ask as he hugs me tight.

 

     “You have been so brave today”  he releases me and leans against the stairs, as I put the hoover in the cupboard

    “So were you.” I smile at him, somehow this has been so much harder for him. “It’s over now, we can start to rebuild our lives. The estate agent comes tomorrow, so we don’t need to come back here” I move to where he is stood, and link my arm through his “Come on lets go home”

    “When did you get so grown up?” He grins at me, as we walk along the passage to the front door.

    “Oh, I would say, about the moment when I realized I had to look after you?” I chuckle.

    “Oh ha-ha. Come on lets go home, I need to let Connie out.” He opens the front door, and we step out into the fading sunlight of early evening.

    “I thought Mrs Trent was going in to let her out?”I enquire

    “Well yeah, but Connie hates us going away for long periods of time” he unlocks the car, and I climb in. It’s one of those little BMW sport car things, and so John, but completely impractical.

    “You know, this car is rubbish” I glance at him, as he climbs in.

    “Why”? He frowns at me, as he pulls away from the curb.

    “Well, where am I supposed to put the shopping and my stuff”

    “Um, it’s my car, why would your stuff be in it?”

    “No John, it’s our car now” I grin, as he rolls his eyes at me.

    “Is this what it’s like to be married” he grumbles under his breath. 

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Chapter Three

Helen

    I put my pencil down, and gaze at Doctor Davenport.

    “You know and this may sound bad, but you read about these motorway pile ups, but well I never think about the human side. I mean, you read the death toll, and about the idiot that caused it, but you don’t think about the ripples that affect people’s lives, or the people that survive.”

    “That is human nature, if it doesn't directly affect you; it is soon forgotten, no matter how terrible.”

    “So where were you, when you heard?” I ask, seeing his features harden.

    “I was at the flat I shared with my girlfriend Sarah, I wasn't aware of it until the police knocked on the door. I was straightening my tie, getting ready to go and have dinner with my brother and family. I hadn't listened to the radio or watched the news, so I was completely unaware of the events that had been taking place.

     I was looking forward to it, seeing Molly, I had missed her, she was more a sister than a niece, as we were close in age. I was nine when my parents died. I was a menopause baby, to coin a phrase. That was why my brother, Josh ,was so much older than me, I didn't really know him that well, as there was an eighteen year gap. Molly was a baby when I went to live with them, and I loved her immediately, she was a handful even then”. He smiled, and it seemed regretful, not for the first time did I wonder where Molly was.

     “Do you want a cup of tea, I can probably rustle up some biscuits” He smiled at me, and I could see he needed a break. He climbed to his feet. I did the same, pushing my chair out.

    “Yes, that would be lovely” I follow him into the bright kitchen, and watch as he goes about making the tea.

 

    “I remember shouting to Sarah to answer the door, but she didn't hear me, so I had to do it, and there stood two police men. Well one was a woman, but you know what I mean. They asked to come in, and if I was on my own” He poured hot water into the tea pot and placed it on the table along with a plate of biscuits. I hardly noticed, as I looked out the window at the standing stone circle, it was amazing with the fading afternoon light shining through them, almost as if they were being deliberately lit, to draw my attention to them. I turned back to him as he spoke again.

“John, where are you, are you ready?” Sarah marched through the flat; with two bedrooms Sarah was amazed she had lost him. “Ah there you are?” Sarah entered the kitchen to find me sat at the table staring into space. Two policemen were sat with me. Sarah frowned as she hadn’t heard the doorbell.

“John, what’s the matter.” Sarah walked over to me and put her arm around me and kissing my cheek. “John, will you speak to me” Sarah let him go and stepped back gazing at me as I slowly turned my head to look at her. One of the policemen coughed as he cleared his throat.

“Um, we will let ourselves out Mr Davenport” the two policemen got to their feet. “Here is my card, if you should need any help with all this.” The police lady slid a card across the table and smiled kindly at me as they left the room. Sarah sat down and reached for my hands which lay limply on the table.

“John, please tell me what is going on?” Sarah gazed into my eyes she was giving me one of her looks, willing me to speak. I finally sighed and ran my hands through my hair.

“There has been an accident. I need to go to the hospital. They are all dead. All of them, gone just like that, my entire family” I could feel tears running down my cheeks, even though I hadn’t wanted to cry in front of Sarah, I didn’t bother to wipe them away but just let them fall.

“Oh John sweetheart I am so sorry. Why do you need to go to the hospital, to identify the bodies?” I shake my head finally wiping my face with the back of my hand.

 Doctor Davenport sat down and I did the same, watching as he poured the tea and passed me a jug of milk.

“Sugar?” he asked, I shake my head and wait for him to continue. He sipped his tea, and then placed it on the table in front of him.

 

“Molly, Molly she survived, thrown clear apparently, had undone her seat belt. Please can you come with me” I ask her gently it’s a lot to ask but I need her. “I don’t want to go on my own”

“Of course, come on I will drive” Sarah gets to her feet and guides me out the door. I let her I just can’t think anymore everything is numb, I worry about Molly the policemen didn't say what state she was in, I hardly notice the journey or that the car has stopped until Sarah opens my door.

     He picked up his mug, and sipped his tea, and passed me the plate of biscuits. I took one, and without thinking dunked it in my tea, he smiled. Somehow that innocent act brought him back. I felt better, realizing I had felt guilty, for making him remember something so painful.

    “So, what happened next, this still doesn't explain the bones as interesting as all that was” I finished my biscuit and wrapped my hands around my mug warming my fingers.

    “Indeed, I was about to get to that bit, I felt you needed to understand the emotions of the time, so you understood Molly’s mental state.” He gave me that enigmatic smile, and I waited enthralled by him, barely containing my curiosity, as to what he would say next.

 

 

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Chapter Five

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Chapter Four

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Chapter Seven

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Chapter Six

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Chapter Eight

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Chapter Nine

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Chapter Ten

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Chapter Eleven

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Chapter Twelve

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Chapter Thirteen

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chapter Fourteen

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chapter Fifteen

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Chapter Sixteen

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Chapter Seventeen

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Chapter Eighteen

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Chapter Nineteen

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chapter twenty

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chapter twentyone

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chapter twenty two

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chapter twenty three

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