Preface to Murder, M Morris [best selling autobiographies TXT] 📗

‘Oh, you know. Arwen will be trying two days a week at pre-school next term, just for a trial run before starting properly in the autumn. That’ll give me more time to spend with Owain. You know what a handful he can be. Always getting into trouble. Not anything bad, mind you. He’s just a bit of a scamp.’

Ffion grinned to herself. Owain was only one year old. How much trouble could a one-year-old get into? Siân should try dealing with the criminals Ffion came up against in her job. On the other hand, she’d probably get them sorted out after a good talking to. There was no messing with Siân. When she set her mind to something, she got her way.

It was Siân who had engineered the reconciliation that had taken place after Christmas between Ffion and her parents. Ffion’s mam had never approved of her daughter’s sexuality, and the rift had driven Ffion away from home, away from Wales, and all the way to Oxford. There was no question of her ever moving back to live in Wales, but at least she was on speaking terms with her parents again, and was planning to visit them as soon as she could get a few days off work.

‘So what’s up?’ asked Siân.

‘Does anything have to be up?’

‘No. But I’m hoping you’ve done something interesting since last time we spoke.’

Ffion laughed. ‘As a matter of fact, I do have some news.’ She proceeded to tell Siân all about Marion and the fun they were having together.

‘She does sound nice,’ said Siân. ‘So when are you planning to bring her here?’

The question brought Ffion up short. ‘You mean to Wales?’

‘Sure. I’d love to meet her.’

‘I hadn’t thought about it.’

Ffion had spent years doing her best to keep her family away from the rest of her life. They’d never come to visit her in Oxford. She’d barely been back to Wales in seven years. But maybe it was time for that to change. Now that she was reconciled with her mam, perhaps there was no longer anything to fear. Perhaps the natural reluctance she felt at Siân’s suggestion was nothing more than an old habit that needed to be unlearned. Well, what better way to start than to ask Marion if she’d like to spend a weekend in Wales? Could she do that? Take a girlfriend to meet her parents? To hang out in the village that had once felt so alienating, and yet held a natural beauty with its backdrop of mountains, its still lakes nestled between green peaks, and its small, close-knit community of two-up-two-down cottages? She knew that she could.

Although she hadn’t been with Marion for long, the relationship was affecting a change in her. She was much more comfortable in her own skin these days, more confident in her sexuality, and perfectly relaxed in Marion’s company.

She couldn’t help noticing how different this relationship was to her time with Jake, when she had stressed over his unhealthy diet, the mess in his flat, his awful taste in music. Sometimes she wondered what she’d ever seen in him. Well, that was a little unfair. He was kind and steady and easy-going and he did have a great sense of humour. If only he could have learned to do the washing-up and put his dirty underwear in the laundry bag. But that was men for you. Like Marion said, men were different, and not just in the most obvious ways.

‘I’d love to,’ she told Siân. ‘And I’m sure that Marion would love to meet you too.’

The more she thought about it, the more the idea took hold. She was sure that Marion and Siân would hit it off immediately, and what better way to show her mam and dad how happy she could be in another woman’s company? As soon as they saw her together with Marion, they would be bound to welcome her into their home.

Besides, if there was a chance that she might spend the rest of her life with Marion, then it would be best to make a start right away. What was it that Marion had said?

Time is precious. Let’s not waste any.

25

Bridget arrived at work the next morning conflicted with guilt. Was she doing the right thing coming into the station? Should she have requested leave and accompanied her sister to Lyme Regis to help look after their parents? It occurred to her that Grayson wouldn’t have denied any such request, might even have been glad of an excuse to bring in DI Baxter without formally removing her from the case. She suspected her guilt was based, in part, on not wanting to give Grayson such an easy way out, which only made her feel even worse about herself.

On the drive from Wolvercote she told herself repeatedly that her decision to stay in Oxford and work on the case was a logical one based on the conversation she’d had with her father the night before. She’d phoned her parents at half past six, judging that they would have had their tea by then but probably wouldn’t yet be watching any favourite TV shows that couldn’t be interrupted. Her parents still tended to watch programmes at the time they were broadcast rather than on-demand. She’d thought her father had sounded tired when he answered the phone, but he perked up considerably when he realised it was Bridget calling. It was true, he admitted when asked, that her mother had had a fall and had broken her wrist and (he had lowered his voice) was a ‘bit shaken up’, but he insisted that they were managing just fine.

‘I don’t expect you to drop everything in the middle of the week and drive all the way down here,’ he’d said when Bridget had mentioned Vanessa’s plans. ‘You’ve got a busy career. And a