Kelly threw her keys on the side and was met with Johnny’s broad smile.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a visitor.’
‘I’m really sorry, but I can’t stop for long. We’ve had a major breakthrough in the case, so I have to leave again after dinner.’
‘It’s okay, come on. Relax for a bit.’ He took her bag and unzipped her coat, sliding the woolly hat off her long hair, kissing her at the same time. She enjoyed the attention but pulled herself away to go into the lounge, where Ted and Josie made a fuss of her. She sat down and asked Josie what she’d been up to.
‘Wait till you see my room,’ she gushed. Kelly smiled.
‘I can’t wait,’ she said. ‘I do need to go back to Eden House tonight, though, we’ve had a serious development.’
Ted and Josie looked at one another, and Josie shrugged. ‘You can eat my chilli, though?’ she asked. Kelly nodded and accepted a small glass of red wine from Johnny. She smelled it and closed her eyes, wishing she could stay.
‘I’ve got a surprise for you,’ Ted said. ‘It’s a belated house-warming present and I’ve been waiting for it to be delivered, but then you told me your baby news and I had to celebrate that too.’
‘What have you been up to, Dad? You need to save your money for your wonderful extension, have you told Johnny and Josie?’
‘Yes, Josie’s been showing me how I need the table under the lantern.’
‘Lantern?’ Kelly asked.
‘It’s the ceiling window, it lets in an incredible amount of light. We’ve also been debating a breakfast bar.’
‘That’s so eighties,’ Kelly said, sipping her wine and yawning. Johnny got her a blanket and she took it gratefully.
‘Not any more! It’s retro now, isn’t it, Josie?’ Ted said. ‘Right, you stay there because you look exhausted, and I’ll show you your first present.’ He got up and went to the double doors leading to the terrace. He threw them open and a gust of wind caught the curtains, making them fly like superheroes into the room. In the dark, in the middle of her terrace, she could make out, with the aid of the light from the lounge, a brand new Big Green Egg BBQ.
‘Oh Dad, I love it. You shouldn’t have, I know how much those things cost.’
‘I thought it quite appropriate, actually, you know: fertility.’
Kelly laughed and nodded her head. ‘I hope I don’t give birth to an egg,’ she said. Josie laughed too.
‘Let’s get this door closed. You know you can cook rain or shine, or even in the snow if you want,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll get one myself. Your other present is upstairs so you can have a look before you go to bed, there’s no rush,’ he went on. The cold bite from having the doors open subsided and was once more taken over by the fire.
‘You know I can’t leave it like that.’ Kelly got up and wrapped the blanket around her and shuffled to the stairs.
‘The little room,’ Ted said, getting up to follow her. She reached the top of the stairs and opened the door to what she called her dump room: it was the smallest bedroom and used mainly as a laundry. When she went in and flicked the switch on it was perfectly tidy, with everything put away in new wardrobes, and in the middle of the room, made up with blankets and pillows, was an oak cot. Kelly stopped and stared at it, the reality of it hitting her. She went to it and put her hand on the wood.
‘It belonged to Amber and June,’ Ted said. ‘It took me a while to find, and Johnny helped. They’ve worked all day long to get it like this.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ She went to him and he opened his arms. ‘Thank you, I love it,’ she said. ‘There’s no going back now.’ She laughed.
‘I should hope not, I nearly put my back out screwing that together,’ he said.
They went back downstairs and Kelly kissed Johnny, then gave Josie a hug.
‘I love it, it’s gorgeous. Thank you, it’s really special.’ She sat down on the sofa next to Johnny and leant back into him.
‘What else have you been up to, Josie? Although, by the look of upstairs, that’s taken all day. Thank you.’ She watched the girl become animated and her eyes shone with mischief. Her long blonde hair was braided and she wore make-up. For the first time since Kelly had known her, she looked like a young woman. She’d always thought Josie pretty, but now, in the light, with her sitting casually on the floor looking up at Kelly, about to tell her something really important, she looked more than that; she looked womanly. She smiled widely and Kelly wanted to hug her.
‘Watching Crime Investigation.’
‘Ah, of course! Was it a good one? Come on then, run it by me,’ Kelly said, bracing herself for questions. Josie began talking and Kelly closed her eyes. Usually at this point, Josie would give her a snapshot of the crime, then describe the scene, and then the possible suspects. Kelly would have to run through the investigative steps and then choose a suspect. This time was different: it was a special programme on a boy who was incarcerated for life when he was just thirteen years old, for killing his sister and three other women, in his home town of Morecambe in the seventies.
‘He hated his sister because she was pretty, how can that even be a thing?’ Josie asked.
‘Jealousy? Did she get more attention?’ Kelly asked.
‘Yes, his mother was a right bitch to him but doted on the girl. Anyway, the girl went missing and was eventually found hidden in the bath panel because she started to smell the house out. But the post-mortem was still able to show that she’d been strangled. But still no one suspected the brother. But then women in the town began to go missing and when they were found, they’d been strangled too.’
‘So, how did they eventually work out it was the brother? And was it the brother?’ Kelly asked, fully engaged now.
‘Oh definitely, he confessed in the end, and said he enjoyed looking into his sister’s eyes as she struggled for breath. He’d let her breathe again and then strangle her again, until finally she never regained consciousness.’
Kelly’s eyes shot open and found Ted’s.
‘Did life mean life?’ she asked.
‘What?’ Josie asked.
‘The brother, you said he got life imprisonment. In this country, “life” doesn’t necessarily mean a life sentence.’
‘Oh, yes, I know. No, he was let out last year and given a new identity. He’d served forty-two years.’