A Watery Grave (Karen Cady Book 1), Penny Kline [book recommendations for young adults txt] 📗

her to drown? But Natalie’s death wasn’t a TV movie. A life that had been supposed to last for seventy years or more had come to an end when she was only twenty, nearly twenty-one, and there was no way whoever had done it should get away with it.

She had left her bike at home but the walk across town would do her good, help her to unwind. If Olive Pearce saw her watching the house she would become suspicious, but just walking past the house couldn’t do any harm.

By the time she reached Arkwright Way the rain had started to fall in cold sheets that blew into her face and turned her hair into rats’ tails. There were lights on in the house and upstairs the curtains had been drawn across. In a downstairs room Karen caught a glimpse of a huge television screen. Justin’s programmes would be over by now and Mrs Pearce would be watching one of the soap operas that came on before the evening news. Was Liam there too? If Glen was right Liam had been unemployed for well over a year, and made very little effort to find himself a job. He played football on Sunday mornings but spent most of the rest of his time lying in bed or watching TV.

But it was only hearsay. For all Karen knew Liam was desperate for work, sending off scores of applications but never being called for an interview.

No-one in the house was likely to come out in this much rain. Karen turned up her collar and headed back towards the town, half running, half walking. She had arranged to go round to Tessie’s house during the evening but already she was regretting it. Tessie wanted to show her something. A catalogue of wedding dresses? A brochure advertising three-piece suites?

When a car hooted Karen didn’t turn round and even when it slowed down and drew level she ignored it.

‘Don’t be crazy, you’re soaked to the skin.’ It was Alex, leaning across to open the passenger door. ‘Jump in and I’ll drive you home. I was on my way to the printers but that can wait.’

She climbed in, taking off her wet jacket and throwing it on the back seat.

Alex switched on the radio, then lowered the volume. ‘What on earth were you doing? Where’ve you been?’

‘Nowhere in particular. Just walking.’

‘Where’s your bike?’

‘At home.’

‘Listen.’ His voice was irritatingly cheerful. ‘This’ll interest you. Joanne Stevens has gone on holiday without telling anyone where she’s going. Her father called round at the Arts Centre late last night, frantic with worry because she hadn’t come home.’

‘Not surprising really,’ said Karen, trying not to sound too interested. ‘I mean after what happened to his other daughter.’

‘Exactly. Anyway the only person who knew anything about it was Ray, that bloke who works behind the bar. Joanne had arranged some leave but refused to say where she was going. He couldn’t be certain but he had a feeling her boyfriend was taking her to Paris or the south or France.’

Karen sat up straight, trying to take in every word Alex was saying. ‘Boyfriend? Has she got a boyfriend? Is he much older than her?’

‘I haven’t a clue. Never seen her with anyone.’

‘Why France?’ said Karen. ‘Why did Ray think it was France?’

‘Oh, some phrase book she had, something she said. I’ve no idea, could’ve been a wild guess on Ray’s part. Anyway, I thought you’d like to know.’ He looked at her suspiciously. ‘I don’t know why you’re so interested in the girl but no doubt you have your reasons and I’m not daft enough to imagine you’ll tell me what they are.’

*

Tessie’s brother, Robin, answered the door. He was dressed in yellow pyjamas and looked angelic, the way little boys always look when they’ve just had a bath.

‘I’ve come to see Tessie.’

He stared at her for a moment as though she had said something quite extraordinary. ‘Shall I tell my mum?’

‘If you like, or I could go on upstairs.’

‘OK.’ He disappeared back into the playroom and Karen started up the stairs, wondering how a house with five people in it could be so amazingly quiet.

Tessie was waiting on the landing with her finger to her lips. ‘Dad’s got a migraine. In there.’ She pointed to a closed door.

‘Right.’ Karen’s voice came out in a croaky gasp and they both put their hands over their mouths to smother the sound of their laughter.

Inside Tessie’s room they collapsed on the bed. ‘It’s not funny,’ said Karen. ‘Migraine’s horrible. Well, it sounds horrible, I’ve never had it myself.’

Tessie wasn’t listening. ‘Listen, I must tell you only don’t tell anyone else because it may turn out looking absolutely awful.’

‘Go on.’ Tessie’s sliding cupboard door was half open. Hanging on a rail was the kind of dress Karen wouldn’t have been seen dead in.

Seen dead in. It was a stupid expression. Horrible.

‘You’re not listening,’ said Tessie, sitting on a padded stool and staring at herself in her dressing table mirror. ‘Tomorrow I’m having my hair cut short, completely re-styled, and highlights!’ She touched the sides of her head, just above the ears.

‘Good.’

‘You don’t mean that?’

‘Yes, I do, it’ll suit you.’ Karen wanted to show Tessie her notes on the Natalie Stevens case, but most likely Tessie would say it was morbid and didn’t just thinking about the murder give Karen nightmares?

‘Glen’s pleased,’ she said. ‘He thinks it’ll make me look older.’

‘Oh, about thirty I should think,’ said Karen, glancing at Tessie, then shocked to see how miserable she suddenly looked. ‘Hey, are you all right? What’s the matter?’

‘Oh, nothing.’ Tessie slammed shut the drawer in her dressing table, catching the tip of her finger and gasping with pain. ‘D’you see Glen quite often?’

‘When? Oh, you mean at school.’ Karen