Page 30 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume

“She refused to tell them who the father was. He was just a scared kid, didn’t want the baby, didn’t want to be a father.”

“Your sister was a scared kid too though,” I say fervently, getting caught up in the story.

“Leigh’s always been a lot tougher than she looks. When she refused to tell them who the father was, they started talking about her getting an abortion. Being pregnant at sixteen was bad enough, but being a young, unmarried mother was worse. It just wasn’t the done thing. Attitudes around then were still rooted in much older mentalities and traditions.”

“Oh no.” I swallow worriedly. “They didn’t force her to have an abortion if she didn’t want one, did they?”

“No.” Danny’s mouth curves as his eyes flick briefly to me. “She stood right up in front of all of them, this skinny sixteen-year-old kid, and told them flat out it was her body, her choice, and that she was going to raise the baby on her own if they weren’t going to support her. Then she packed a bag and walked straight out of the house.”

“I like Leigh.” I grin.

“You would,” he muses, flicking another thoughtful look in my direction. “You’d get on really well.”

“She had the baby then?”

“Yeah. The council put her into a hostel for unmarried mothers for a while until she eventually got a flat of her own. I bunked off school and biked to the hospital when she went into labour. The nurses and the doctor wouldn’t let me in the room, but I sat outside for hours. I was the first person to hold my nephew, Nick. He was only twenty minutes old and I fell in love with his wrinkly little face and tiny fingers. I’ll never forget that moment, realising I was an uncle, even though I was only a kid myself.”

“What about your parents? Did they go to the hospital? Where was your mum when all this was going on?”

“Mum’s not a bad person.” Danny sighs. “She just gets overshadowed by Dad and my brothers. She grew up with four older brothers herself and was the only girl. I just don’t think she ever learned to stand up for herself. It wasn’t because she didn’t love us. She just wasn’t strong enough to fight it when she came up against very stubborn attitudes.”

“That’s sad.” I frown.

“I think Nick was about four days old when Mum finally convinced Dad to come with her to visit.” He shakes his head. “It’s complicated. Mum loved Nick as much as she loved Leigh and was thrilled to have her first grandchild, despite the circumstances. Jack and Mark were both excited to be uncles too. Dad and the others accepted Nick, but they never really let Leigh forget how disappointed they were in her for not only getting pregnant in the first place, but also for not marrying the kid who was the father.”

“That’s so dumb,” I huff.

“It’s really not uncommon where I’m from, especially not back then.”

“How old is your nephew now?”

“Nick?” Danny thinks hard. “Jesus, he must be eighteen now.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, when I came out very publicly, I became the black sheep and Leigh was downgraded to grey.”

“That sounds hard on you both,” I mutter.

“I miss her and Nick,” he says quietly.

“Have you spoken to them since you left?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I didn’t want to make things difficult for them with the family. Especially Leigh. She has a shaky relationship with them anyway and I know Derek and Gareth in particular would have given her a hard time.”

“I’m so sorry, Danny.” I frown.

“The stupid thing is I really do want to see them.” He sighs. “All of them.”

“It’s not stupid.” I chew my lip thoughtfully as I stare at his profile. “Okay, I’m just going to say it but feel perfectly free to ignore me. I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you because I’m not.” I draw in a deep breath and hope I’m not overstepping. “But I think you need this. It’s one hundred percent your decision, but if you want to see them, I will be there for you. Or, if you’d rather see them on your own, I can wait in the car, or we can forget the whole thing and go straight to the hotel.”

I can see him mulling over my words, so I stop talking. I’m not trying to force him into anything but this is an opportunity, and I just want him to know he’s got options and support.

Giving him some space to think, I turn and stare out of the window, listening to the music on low as we enter Yorkshire.

“I want to go see them,” he says quietly, and I reach out and squeeze his thigh.

“Okay.” I nod.

I don’t say anything else, giving him time to process. Soon enough, I start seeing sign posts for Leeds. Finally, sometime in the early afternoon, we pull into a small council estate and up to a neat row of houses that look as if they were built in the 1930s.

He parks on the side of the street and turns the engine off, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stares out of the windscreen at one house in particular. It’s a tidy mid-terrace with a low brick wall around the front garden, but I can’t see much else from here.