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

‘Your bag, love,’ she stepped out onto the pavement and put her hand on Karen’s arm. ‘A lady handed it in, said she’d found it near the Ladies Room, lying on the floor.’

‘Really? Thanks.’ Karen followed her quickly into the shop. ‘I never expected to see it again. Thanks very much.’

‘Don’t thank me, love. Thank the lady who handed it in – only she’s left now.’ She looked round the tables. ‘Yes, must’ve gone.’

Russell and Laura were waiting for her.

‘That’s lucky,’ said Laura. ‘Look, I have to go now, I’m meeting my sister off the bus. See you tomorrow, Karen. Bye, Russell.’

Russell called after her. ‘You’ll need to work on that backward triple. Take off’s good but the entry into the water’s not quite there yet.’

Laura put her tongue out at him. ‘Like to see you do it.’ Then she crossed the road and set off at a run in the direction of the bus station.

‘You teach diving?’ asked Karen.

Russell laughed. ‘Not me. Just stand and watch. One day maybe, although I’m more interested in the management side of things.’ He smiled at her. ‘Going home now, are you? Where d’you live?’

‘Off Emmanuel Road.’ She swung her bag over her shoulder.

‘Really? Going that way myself – only if you’d rather I didn’t . . .’

‘No, of course not. I just can’t get over getting the bag back.’

‘Restores your faith in human nature? Yes, I know what you mean.’

As they walked through the town he started telling her about his job at the Sports Centre and his plans for the future.

‘If I play my cards right I reckon I can persuade Ken to let me do a sandwich course.’

‘Ken?’

‘The manager at the Centre. I’d work there three or four days a week, and the other two I’d study for a Diploma in Leisure Management. That way I’ll be qualified to apply for well-paid jobs. Jobs with more responsibility, not just strolling up and down the edge of the pool with a whistle in my mouth.’

‘Good,’ said Karen. ‘That sounds like a really good idea. The kind of course that actually teaches you something worth knowing.’

‘You don’t think much of your courses then?’

She shrugged. ‘They’re all right. Some of them are OK.’

‘But what’ll you do when you leave school? You want to think about that, make some plans, have a definite aim to work towards.’

‘Yes, I know.’

When they reached the house she wondered if she should invite him in. After all, he had helped to look for the bag. But he pointed in the direction of the recreation ground.

‘Have to call in at the health centre. Pick up a prescription for my dad.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, your father’s ill?’

‘Chronic bronchitis. Mind you, he’s seventy-one. My mum was nearly forty when I was born. She died two years ago.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Suddenly Karen’s problems seemed trivial. ‘You live with your father, do you?’

‘Used to. He’s in a warden-controlled bungalow now but I still do his shopping and that. After he sold the house I moved into a flat over the pet shop.’

‘Which one? The big one in Wellington Street?’

‘That’s the place.’ He turned and started walking up the hill, calling over his shoulder. ‘You know, we’ve got something in common, you and I, we both want Natalie Stevens’ killer brought to justice.’

‘Yes, of course.’ She wanted to run after him, suggest they exchange notes, share any information they had managed to discover. But there would be other chances. She was certain of that.

*

‘So,’ said Alex, ‘you had your bag pinched, then got it back with all your worldly goods still intact.’

‘That’s right.’ She wasn’t going to tell him that the pad of lined paper and the File on Natalie Stevens had gone. She hadn’t told Laura or Russell either.

Alex was still talking but she had stopped listening.

‘Hey!’ He snapped his fingers to get her attention. ‘I said Simon phoned. About twenty minutes ago. I said you’d call him back.’

‘Oh.’

‘Go on then.’ He pushed the telephone towards her.

‘I’ll do it later.’

Alex smiled. ‘Lovers’ tiff? Anyway, your mum wants to talk to you.’

He stood up, moving towards the living room door and shouting in the direction of the kitchen. ‘She’s back, Lynne.’

Karen should have seen it coming. You’re mum wants to talk to you.

Alex had returned to his chair near the window. Her mother seemed nervous. She was smiling too much, rubbing the palms of her hands together, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. ‘Sit down, love.’

‘What for?’

Her mother sighed. ‘Look, I just wanted to have a word – in case you went round to see Dad and . . .’

‘You’re getting divorced.’

‘What?’ The surprise in her mother’s voice was a pretence. ‘Dad told you?’

Karen shook her head.

Her mother sat on the arm of Alex’s chair. ‘The thing is, love, we thought it’d be best for everyone.’

‘Why?’ Karen wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily. ‘So you and Alex can get married? I’m not being a bridesmaid if that’s what you’re thinking.’

Alex started laughing. It was partly to relieve the tension. ‘You, a bridesmaid! What would you wear? Jeans and a denim jacket?’

‘Alex, for heaven’s sake!’ It was the first time she had heard her mother speak to him sharply.

The three of them sat in silence for what felt like several minutes, then Karen stood up. ‘Right, well, thanks for telling me.’

‘It won’t affect you, Nutkin. Won’t make any difference at all.’

‘I didn’t say it would and don’t call me by that ridiculous name. Got an engagement ring have you? Let’s have a look.’

Alex caught hold of her sleeve. ‘Oh, come on, Karen, don’t spoil things.’

‘How could I do that?