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

am, don’t you? Oh, don’t bother pretending.’ Her voice was slightly menacing – or had Karen just imagined it? ‘Friend of Natalie’s were you? Can’t imagine it though. You don’t look her type.’

It was no use making up some silly story. That would only make things worse.

‘I do know you’re Natalie Stevens’ mother-in-law. I didn’t realise when we first met. Then I remembered where she lived – and how her baby was about a year old and called Justin.’

‘Nineteen months now.’ Mrs Pearce adjusted the baby’s red woolly hat. ‘Liam and Natalie weren’t married, you know. People don’t bother these days, that’s why there’s so much trouble.’

‘Yes, I know what you mean.’ It was starting to rain, big warm drops that splashed on their heads. Karen expected Olive Pearce to pull the cover over Justin’s buggy but instead she just increased her pace.

‘Liam’s sprained his ankle,’ she said. ‘Did it playing football so now he’s a good excuse to sit in front of the telly all day being waited on hand and foot.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘Who for? Me or Liam?’ She laughed, but without amusement.

They had reached the house. Suddenly, to her surprise Mrs Pearce put a hand on Karen’s shoulder. ‘Here, you haven’t even got a proper coat. Come inside for a bit and I’ll show you the photos I’ve had taken of Justin. Well, someone has to care about the poor little mite. Had a special offer in that shop that sells cut-price clothes. Ever so good, he was, sat quite still, smiled at the lady, pictures came out a treat.’

Karen held open the gate. ‘Sure you don’t mind? I am getting rather wet – and I’d love to see the pictures.’

Inside, the house had a sharp lavender smell. Karen stood in the tiny entrance hall, then realised she was in the way of the buggy and stepped into a room so that Mrs Pearce could pass by.

The room was empty. There was a large television at one end and two sofas placed side by side, making it look like the front row at the cinema. Karen had hoped to see Liam Pearce, reclining with his leg propped up on a stool, but there was no sign of him.

Mrs Pearce appeared, carrying the baby, still wearing his zip-up suit. ‘Can you take him out of it, love? I told Liam if he didn’t get up he’d have to do without his tea. You’d think it’d be murder, lying in bed with a twisted ankle. He was out late last night – down at the Black Lion – showing off his walking stick.’

When she left to go upstairs Karen expected the baby to let out a wail, but he just stood in front of her, staring at her with large round eyes.

‘Hello.’ What were you supposed to say to a nineteen-month-old child? Karen unzipped the suit and he held out his arms, then lifted one leg at a time. As soon as he was free he ran across the room and pulled something out of a plastic container piled high with toys.

‘Car.’ He handed her a toy bus.

‘Thanks. Yes. Car. Very good.’

He made a noise which could have been brmm, brmm.

‘Brmm,’ said Karen hopefully, and he smiled, taking the bus from her hand and throwing it at the television screen.

‘No!’ It was an instant reaction, but when she saw his mouth turn down she regretted it immediately. ‘Justin? Look.’ She sat on the floor and started hammering a plastic toy with different shaped pegs stuck into holes.

The baby laughed, then picked up a toy horse and threw it at her head.

‘Such a little show off.’ Olive Pearce was standing in the doorway. ‘Seen the photos have you?’

‘Oh.’ Karen looked round wildly. ‘Oh, they’re lovely.’ On the mantelpiece were two framed pictures of Justin, dressed in a yellow sweat shirt, with Mickey Mouse on the front, and matching yellow trousers. Karen picked them up, one at a time, to have a closer look. ‘Yes, they’re really good. I’ve always wondered how they persuade babies to keep still. I suppose they take masses of photos, then pick out the best.’

‘Interested in photography are you?’

Karen thought she must have noticed the camera in her bag. ‘Yes, quite. I’m not very good.’

Mrs Pearce patted the sofa. ‘Sit down then. Sky’s clearing but there’s no point in going out till the rain’s stopped.’ She looked tired. There were grey smudges under her eyes and every so often her eye-lids seemed to droop as though she was about to fall asleep.

‘He’s very good,’ said Karen, watching as Justin attempted to fit a brontosaurus into a toy petrol station.

‘Could be worse.’ Mrs Pearce took a tissue from her cardigan pocket and held it against her nose. ‘You got any brothers and sisters?’

‘No, I’m an only child.’

She jerked her head in the direction of the baby. ‘Same as him. No uncles to mention neither. Liam’s brothers have moved up north. One’s in Manchester and the other’s somewhere near Stoke-on-Trent. Their father died a year or two back. He’d been an invalid for years. Bad heart.’

Karen thought about Russell Donnelly’s father and wondered how many thousands of people were stuck at home, bored out of their skulls but too sick to go to work. But Russell’s father was old. Olive Pearce’s husband must only have been in his fifties or sixties.

‘So first you had to nurse your husband and now you’ve got the baby to care for,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it unfair the way it’s nearly always women who have to do the looking after?’

She had said the right thing. Olive Pearce smiled at her and, for the first time, Karen could imagine how she might have been quite attractive when she was young. ‘Ah, well, some things never change. I’m too old for him really. When