Condemned, R.C. Bridgestock [most romantic novels TXT] 📗

bottom stone step, and in doing so, had fractured her skull badly and become unconscious. It was an injury from which she could never have recovered.

On the day of the funeral, Winnie checked herself in the mirror for the tenth time. Black gloves in her hand, she wore black shoes on her feet. Funerals were sad affairs. She looked out of her lounge front window, to see Charley arriving.

‘You know what makes me really sad,’ she said, when Charley asked her how she was feeling. ‘I hate to think that Josie will go to her grave never knowing who her mother and father were. If there is one wish that I could have granted her, it was that she knew the answer to that.’

The service at St Anne’s Church was quiet and moving. It had been Josie’s wish to be buried in the graveyard, where she felt she belonged.

Following the service, and back in her office, Charley sat for a moment with her thoughts. Her black wool hat coat hung behind her door. She felt drained. Mike Blake put his head around the door, before walking in. ‘They’re already taking deposits for the new detached houses in the grounds of the old Crownest estate,’ he said. ‘Do you fancy one?’

Charley shook her head. ‘Let’s hope the occupants have better luck, and more happiness than those who lived on the land in the past,’ she replied. Her voice was flat. She sat up in her chair and turned her head to the computer screen.

Mike sat down opposite her. He was smiling.

‘What’ve you got to smile about?’ Charley said.

‘I have news, I had a call from Eira at Forensics whilst you were out. We can rule out Catherine as the body in the cellar.’

‘How come?’ she said.

‘According to her, the comparison of the DNA taken from Mrs Dinah Hayfield, the lady who inherited Crownest from her cousin, Adam Alderman, shows that the skeleton in the cellar is definitely not Catherine,’ he said. ‘They know that because there is no family DNA match between Catherine’s daughter, and the skeletal remains.’

Charley took a deep breath. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I guess we’re going to have to accept that the body in the cellar still remains a mystery.’

‘Feel sad?’ Mike asked.

‘A little, I hate being beaten.’ Charley wrinkled her nose. ‘On another note, do you think the posy that was retrieved from the floor in Josie’s house was made by Lily? It does seem remarkably similar to the one in her home, and the ones that Lily leaves on the graves at St Anne’s.’

‘I wonder if that’s where Lily was going when she left here? To see her childhood pal, after feeling unable to contact her whilst her adoptive father was alive? But why would she?’

‘We’ll go visit her in a while. Ask her about the posy, just for peace of mind.’

Sunlight was streaming through the stained glass window, directly onto the photograph of Lucinda Alderman that Lily Pritchard held in her hand. She stroked the pagan necklace, the one that the detectives had shown her, taken from the Crownest skeleton, that was hanging around Lucinda’s neck in the picture. In her lap, Lucinda was cradling a young baby. Lily stroked her finger over the photograph. She felt glad that Josie had got to see the photograph of her mother before she died. After a moment or two, Lily carefully slid the photograph back behind the picture of Father Michael O’Doherty, before she put the frame back on the table where it belonged. On reflection, was the true reason that she had not sought out Josie for all these years actually not Josie’s adoptive parents fault, but in fact her misplaced loyalty to her birth father Connor? Because by speaking to Lily about the past, had she feared it would open a can of worms for the church and her own family?

Lily had finally made peace with her old childhood playmate, the one who had questioned her beloved Connor’s inappropriate acts, and the pictures he took. Who’d have guessed that Lily would be the last person who Josie would see? She was glad she had told Josie what Agnes had told her – at least Josie could rest in peace knowing who her parents were. She prayed to God that Lucinda, Josie’s mother, was waiting for her daughter in heaven.

Charley sat still for a while whilst she was on the telephone to Eira from Forensics.

She had written down what Eira had told her, but Charley kept reading it back several times to take in the enormity of it.

The blood found on the knife that had killed the female skeleton held familial DNA to that of Dinah Hayfield. Acting on instinct Charley instructed a DNA test for Josie to also find a match.

‘We knew that it was likely that Lucinda was Josie’s mother but to have it confirmed by DNA that Seth Alderman was her father is just incredible?’ gasped Charley.

‘In all my career, I have never seen such a fascinating catalogue of events unfold,’ Eira said, ‘I’d run the skeleton’s DNA through our database so many times without a hit, that I literally could not believe it when Josie’s DNA turned out to be a match!’

‘You’re a legend!’ Charley said, ‘That’s two drinks I owe you.’

‘I’m just glad to be of assistance.’ Charley could tell Eira’s smile was wide by the tone of her voice, and she was as pleased for Dinah who had found out about her Alderman roots, as well as coming inheritance, and Winnie who had realised a dream for her friend to see a photograph of her mother before she died. It was just a shame that Josie would never know her true parentage.

A lump rose in Charley’s throat as she tried to imagine the unimaginable – not knowing her parents or her grandparents. The thought made the blood run cold through her veins. Another thought struck her. Could it have been Lucinda who placed her daughter, Josie, on