Chapters (65)
- Cover
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Acknowledgements
- Canelo Crime
- About the Author
- Also by Rachel Lynch
With the pleasantries over, Amber continued her story of a five-year-old who’d taken a shit in the school sandpit. Kelly wanted to catch up and listen to all of their stories. She wanted to pretend that her life was normal, just for an evening. But inevitably, conversation soon got round to the two murders. All anyone wanted to know about was the inquiry and the demonstrations on the Beacon Estate.
‘It’s opened a real can of worms. The two women were so different, and sadly, that has been at the forefront of the inquiries.’
‘The press are almost saying that Ella Watson should never have had her life ended in such a manner, but because Keira Bradley lived in the grinding cycle of deprivation, her death was inevitable. It’s disgusting,’ said Amber.
Ted brought in canapés and serviettes. Kelly took some and passed the plate along. She munched happily on the little balls of joy on the end of a cocktail stick and realised that she hadn’t eaten all day. That was probably where her dehydration headache had come from. Instead of taking on water, she’d popped paracetamol at work. Now she knew that her body craved sustenance and asked for the plate to be handed back. Ted said they were apricots wrapped in bacon and roasted with honey.
‘What happened to our society, where kids don’t dream any more?’ asked June.
Kelly stared at June, who fancied herself an intellectual, and had a habit of throwing curveballs into conversations. If she wasn’t so earnest, it would be clichéd.
‘Is that true?’ asked Kelly. ‘Callum, Josie, do you have dreams?’
‘I want to swim with sharks,’ Callum said.
Amber whistled. ‘I want to skinny-dip off a South Pacific island.’
‘That’s two of you who want to be eaten by sharks. No thanks.’ June rejected the idea.
‘I don’t think it’s necessarily guaranteed that if you swim naked in the Pacific you’ll get eaten by a shark. I think there are good odds of not being attacked,’ Callum said.
‘True. More chance of being in a car crash,’ Ted said.
‘Or being knifed.’ Josie brought the tone down, but she had a good point.
‘Come on, Kelly, tell us about the cases. Have you caught anyone yet? The Home Secretary is getting an absolute panning in the press.’
Kelly smiled. ‘I’m visiting the barricade tomorrow. Keira’s mother – you’ve probably seen her on TV – has done some amazing work in pulling the community together. I’ve never seen anything like it. No, we haven’t caught anyone yet, but these things take time: I’ve got to have hard evidence. It’s all very well finding fingerprints and DNA, but I’ve got to have someone to match it to.’
‘I saw her, she’s quite an impressive character,’ Amber said.