Page 16 of Little Children (Detective Kim Stone #22)

Fifteen

Ten minutes later, they were still sitting in Bryant’s car outside the hotel. And still, her colleague couldn’t control his laughter.

‘Are you happy now?’ she snapped.

‘Not even close. Tell me again, and this time I want every detail.’

Jesus, where to even begin.

‘Well, you remember I was there when Frost first opened her eyes after coming out of the coma?’

Who could forget that the reporter had been bullied into following the Jester’s instructions just like the rest of them?

It had been an email to Frost that had kickstarted the whole investigation.

Her orders had been clear, and halfway through she had chosen to ignore them and walk out on the case.

Less than six hours later, Kim and Bryant had found her at home lying in a pool of blood from a near-fatal blow to the back of the head.

A coma had been induced following the surgery to help the swelling to her brain.

‘Of course I remember. I also recall that you pretty much goaded Frost into waking up.’

‘Yes, well, I stayed with her until the doctor came to make sure she wasn’t going to go under again. He examined her and declared himself happy, even though she answered a few questions wrong.’

‘Like what?’

‘The day of the week, the month she was born.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I know, but I spoke to the doctor before I left. He assured me that some level of confusion was to be expected.

‘She had no memory of what had happened. She remembered the case, in great detail, and storming out after Hiccup’s death, but she didn’t recall where she went afterwards or getting home.’

‘Okay, so what happened next?’

‘I went home happy I’d done my bit. She’s in hospital – they’ll take care of her head injury. I figured I’d next see Frost when she’s back to harassing us on a future case. Job done. Hands washed. Conscience clear.’

‘But?’

‘A few hours later, I get a text message, asking if I can grab some clothes and take them to the hospital.’

‘And you did it?’ he groaned.

‘How was I going to say no?’

As he had no answer, he continued to ask her questions. ‘Next?’

‘A couple of days later, she asked if I’d bring her a proper cup of coffee.’

Bryant’s smile was tugging at his mouth again.

‘Then she wanted some real sausage rolls from Greggs. And then three days ago, she was discharged from hospital, and guess who went to pick her up?’

‘Bloody hell, Kim, and I’m calling you that cos it’s a personal problem. I’m dying to know what she’s texting you now.’

‘Jokes, memes, funny things off the internet.’

‘Things you’d send your best friend?’ Bryant clarified.

Kim cringed.

‘You’re gonna have to tell her.’

‘How, Bryant? If the woman thinks we’re best mates, then she clearly is suffering some kind of brain damage. How the hell am I going to explain we don’t even like each other?’

‘Well, that’s not strictly?—’

‘We’re not bloody best mates. We’ve reached a mutual tolerance level over the years, which sure doesn’t include clothes shopping or sharing bloody make-up tips.’

‘As entertaining as this is for me, you’re somehow gonna have to get the truth through to her. You’re not being fair to her, and you’re making a bigger problem for yourself down the line.’

‘Maybe by the time we get back home, her memories will have returned, and she’ll realise her mistake,’ Kim said hopefully.

‘And if she hasn’t?’

‘Shut up, Bryant,’ she said, getting out of the car.

She stepped into the lobby and took her key from Stacey before making her way silently to her room to ponder the question that had been on her mind for days.

How did she tell a woman who had narrowly escaped death, and who seemed likely to have to learn to live with some level of brain damage, that she literally had no friends?