Page 28 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume

“There.” Tom zips the mesh flap closed and lifts it.

Danny shakes his head and pulls the gloves off. “I’ll just grab his food and bed.”

“No need.” Tom waves a hand airily, lifting the carrier and making more kissy faces at Jacob Marley. “I’ve got everything he needs at my and Ari’s place.”

“You spoil him.” I sigh. “Just watch his weight please. Too many treats are not good for him.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Tom says, straightening up and heading for the door. “Well, we must be going. Jacob Marley and I have places to be. Tristan, enjoy freezing your balls off up north, and Danny, enjoy railing Tris for the next several days without interruptions. Ciao, darlings!” He sends us both air kisses before letting himself out of the flat, the door banging shut behind him.

“Well, okay then.” I stare at the door.

“We should probably get going.” Danny looks down at his watch. “It should take us just under five hours to get there, depending on traffic. Hopefully, we should arrive just after lunch sometime. Did you get everything you wanted packed?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’m good to go.” I take a calming breath, still feeling the nerves in my belly, which could also be the remnants of yesterday’s hangover. “I’ve spoken to Lois. She said she’d call if Dad gets any worse, and Dusty is keeping an eye on him too. Now Jacob Marley’s all taken care of, that’s everything off the list. Do you want to get the bags in the car while I just nip to the corner shop for snacks?”

“Sure. Make sure you get me some Jelly Babies.” Danny grins as he pulls my coat off the hook and hands it to me. “And make sure you have your hat, scarf, and gloves. It’s cold here, but you’ll feel it a lot more up north.”

* * *

By the timeI leave the corner shop loaded up with snacks and drinks for the road, Danny has the car all packed and the flat locked up. We head out of Whitechapel and I can feel the nerves and excitement bubbling.

“You okay?” Danny asks.

“I’m good.” I grin. “I can’t wait to spend some time with you away from home.” I let out a sigh of contentment. “It feels so good to know we’ve got four whole days away from everything.”

“Good,” he replies, keeping his focus on the road.

At first I leave him to it because he has to navigate through all the post-Christmas traffic out of London and I don’t want to distract him. Not sure I can handle much more Christmas music, I flick through the stations, landing on Greatest Hits. Much to Danny’s amusement, I end up serenading him all the way to the M1 with eighties and nineties pop classics.

We spend the next couple of hours with me hand-feeding Danny Jelly Babies and handing him a drink when he needs one. We laugh over songs and exchange funny stories from the mortuary or cases he’s worked on. It’s all so easy that I feel myself relaxing the more miles we put between us and London.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d never leave London permanently. It’s my home, and I love my job—and yes, that includes the ghosts haunting it. I also adore Dusty and all the others, but I don’t think I actually realised how much I needed this break.

By the time we’re halfway there, though, I can tell something’s wrong. The closer we get to Yorkshire, the quieter Danny becomes, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. I spend a good ten minutes internally debating whether or not I should say anything before finally throwing caution to the wind.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, turning down the radio.

“Talk about what?” he replies.

“I couldn’t help but notice that the hotel we’re going to is only about an hour away from Leeds. Your parents still live there, don’t they?”

Danny doesn’t say anything, but I notice his grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. You only have to say so and I won’t mention it again while we’re away, but…” I hesitate a moment before pushing on. “Maybe this is an opportunity to, I don’t know, take the first step towards a reconciliation or get closure? All things depending.”

I sit and wait. Although his eyes are still firmly fixed on the motorway ahead of us, I can tell he’s considering my words.

“Do you want to see them, Danny?” I ask.

For a moment, I think he’s not going to answer, but he finally lets out a slow, resigned breath.

“I honestly don’t know,” he admits.

“That’s okay.” I reach over and squeeze his thigh in comfort. “You don’t have to make a decision.”

He nods, the muscle in his jaw flexing.

“Do you want to tell me about them?”