Page 67 of Worse Than Murder

‘Oh my God!’ I say, stopping dead in my tracks.

‘What is it?’ Sally asks.

‘The tall guy on the end.’

Sally strains to see. ‘Well, he’s got a nice bum, but I wouldn’t say he was an oh-my-God type.’

‘Don’t you recognise him?’

‘Should I?’

‘Yes. That’s Aaron Connolly. He was a DS on my team back in Sheffield.’

‘High Chapel Police Station. PC Pemberton speaking. How may I help you?’

Alison sounds bored as she gives the greeting upon answering the phone. Until the car at the bottom of the lake has been retrieved and whatever is lurking inside has been identified, Alison has been confined to the station and manning the phones. She has a personal interest if her sisters are in that car. While everyone else is out at the lake helping with the search and retrieval, Alison is fielding calls from people mostly concerned about the aftermath of the storm. However, none of the calls are particularly taxing and she doesn’t mind admitting that she is bored out of her skull.

‘The power company are working hard to restore electricity supplies to all homes by the end of today, madam,’ she says, not for the first time. ‘If you are in need of anything, power has been restored to the primary school and they’ve opened the hall up to anyone wishing to have a hot meal or a tea or coffee.’

‘I didn’t know that. Thank you so much. I hope you didn’t mind me calling the police for something that wasn’t a criminal matter.’

‘That’s quite all right, madam. It’s what we’re here for. Take care.’

She ends the call and lets out a heavy sigh. In order to try and sound interested and patient, she’s needed to wear a faux smile all morning. It’s beginning to hurt.

‘You look fed up,’ Claire Daniels says as she comes into the main room.

‘I am. I thought you were out at the lake.’

‘I was, but I’ve got a sodding hole in my walking boots. Can I borrow yours?’

‘Why not? It’s not like I’ve got any use for them, is it?’

‘Ooh, that sounded very bitchy.’

‘It was meant to. Do you have any idea of the idiotic and mind-numbing conversations I’ve had this morning?’

‘Looking at your face, I can hazard a guess. Bloody hell, what size are these? I can hardly get my feet in.’

‘They’re a four. Please don’t stretch them with your big old clown feet.’

Claire jokingly gives her the finger. ‘I saw that Matilda Darke woman out running yesterday. She’s got a good figure on her for her age. Me and Geraint were reading about her online last night. She’s got some balls, that woman.’

‘I know,’ Alison says, more to herself. She’s hoping she has the balls to find out what happened to her sisters.

‘She’s rapidly becoming my hero. I may have to see if I can get a selfie with her,’ Claire smiles.

‘Slightly inappropriate.’

‘I’m the queen of inappropriate.’

‘So your Geraint tells me.’

‘He better not have told you about Whitley Bay.’

The phone begins to ring before Alison can respond.

‘High Chapel Police Station. PC Pemberton speaking. How can I help you?’