The Sting of Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

despite the promising beginning. She’d said too much, waffling on about the Rentons and pottery and how far back she and Justine went. He’d clearly been impatient for her to go, and more than half inclined to dismiss the whole story as a lot of groundless anxiety. The bit about the runes had been a gamble. Her experience had been that the most surprising people took these things seriously, especially when the readings often did turn out to be amazingly accurate.
    And she had eventually secured his co-operation . When it came down to it, of course, he could hardly have refused. She was Karen’s cousin, after all.
     
    Karen too was aware of the persuasiveness of the cousinship. ‘I feel rather responsible,’ she said to Drew, on Monday morning. ‘You’re only appeasing her because she’s family.’
    ‘I don’t expect I am,’ he said. ‘To be honest, I had Roma in mind more than you.’
    ‘Charming.’
    ‘Wait till you meet her. You’ll like her as much as I do. She’s a real original.’
    ‘Bit off, getting sacked for hitting a primary school kid, though,’ Karen said. ‘I thought Pennwas a bit over the top about that. It’s absolutely not on these days.’
    ‘We don’t know the details,’ Drew objected. ‘The kid probably had it coming. And you can see she’s not a woman to stand any nonsense. Very old-fashioned she’d be as a teacher. Stern but fair, that sort of thing.’
    ‘And what was that stuff about not speaking to her daughter for five years? Sounds very extreme. How do you know she’ll be pleased with you for cooperating with Penn? She might be glad Justine’s disappeared.’
    ‘That’s possible,’ Drew agreed diplomatically.
    Karen crunched a piece of toast, while peeling a banana for Timmy and dribbling pieces of discarded bread across the floor with the side of her foot. None of this prevented her from continuing the conversation.
    ‘No, listen. Think about it. Presumably she – Justine – must know there’d be people worrying about her. Penn, for a start. And the people on the farm. So either she’s a selfish cow who doesn’t care if she upsets people, or something caused her to rush off before she had a chance to tell anybody.’
    ‘Maybe Penn was driving her mad and she’s just gone off for a break.’
    ‘You think Penn’s a bit … smothering?’ The word came out with a mouthful of toast crumbs.
    ‘She could be,’ Drew conceded. ‘After all, she doesn’t appear to have a bloke. She wastes a lovely summer day visiting an ageing aunt and a cousin she hasn’t seen for decades.’ He cocked his head at her, deliberately caricaturing the situation.
    ‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ Karen began, before realising he wasn’t serious. ‘Oh, go to work, will you.’ She threw the banana skin at him.
    He caught it deftly and added it to the overflowing compost bucket in the corner. ‘Ah, there’s Maggs. Now I’ll have to tell her the whole story as well. She can come with me this evening, if she’s not doing anything.’
    ‘Go on then,’ Karen flapped him away. ‘I’ve got nappies to wash.’
     
    Maggs greeted him warily. ‘Nothing from the hospice, then?’ she enquired, as he opened the office door for her. ‘Dragging on a bit, isn’t it?’ The hospice was overseeing the dying of a Mr Graham French, who was destined for a grave in Drew’s field when the time finally came. Drew had visited him three times, liking him more on each occasion, and the protraction of his passing was stretching nerves on all sides.
    ‘Just shows, you never know,’ Drew said routinely.
    ‘Hmmm. I thought they would have given him the killer dose by this time. It doesn’t seem kind to let it take as long as this.’
    ‘He’s not in too much pain. Maybe he asked them not to. I got the feeling he’s quite happy to let it take its time, when I saw him last week.’
    ‘Scared, I suppose,’ hazarded Maggs.
    Drew shook his head. ‘I don’t think he is, oddly enough.