Letting out the Worms: Guilty or not? If not then the alternative is terrifying (Kitty Thomas Book 1)

by Sue Nicholls

  ‘Drive carefully, Kitty.’ Josh landed a brief kiss on her cheek and Megan gave her a hug.

  ‘Lovely to meet you, Kitty.’ She turned and followed Josh into the swaying mass on the dance floor.

  Kitty caught Sam’s eye.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ he mouthed, and she nodded, searching the room without success for her dad. Everyone was vanishing. At least Cerys was here, sitting next to Paul’s empty chair, looking hot and tired.

  ‘I’m off now, Cerys. Thanks so much for a wonderful do.’

  Cerys reached up to receive an embrace. ‘Don’t be a stranger, Kitty. Your dad misses you when you’re away.’

  Kitty scanned the room again. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Oh, somewhere about.’ Cerys looked done in.

  ‘Well, tell him goodbye, will you? I want to get home before this rain sets in.’

  ‘I will Lovely. Take care, won’t you?’

  48 LUCAS

  Mick and Maurice sat themselves on either side of Lucas, who had retreated to the perimeter of the festivities to watch his friends jig on the dance floor.

  ‘Not having a bop?’ Mick grinned at his son.

  ‘My feet hurt.’

  ‘You need more stamina. When I was your age, I’d spend all evening in the kitchen then be out clubbing ‘til two.’

  Lucas directed his eyes to heaven. ‘Are you kidding, Dad? I remember you dropping off in the armchair after lunch service, let alone evening service.’

  Maurice looked around the restaurant. ‘Where’s Kitty?’

  ‘She said she was going home.’ Lucas’s face grew serious and he leaned towards the two men. ‘Did you know she’s investigating Paul’s case again? Anwen told me she’s going over the whole thing, searching for new evidence.

  Maurice said, ‘Why would she do that?’

  ‘Apparently, Max Rutherford’s out of jail and still claiming he didn’t murder Fee, so Kitty’s decided to shut him up by searching for more proof of Paul’s innocence.’

  Maurice and Mick stared at Lucas in silence.

  Lucas rose and winced at the pain in his feet. ‘Anyone want a drink?’ he asked.

  ‘Not for me,’ said Maurice. ‘I’m driving. Leaving in a minute’

  Mick also declined, ‘I’m going to get an early night as well. I’m getting too old for all this malarkey.’ He raised his eyebrows to Lucas. ‘You OK finishing here?’

  ‘Sure, Dad. Everything OK?’

  ‘Fine. It’s been a long day, that’s all; and I didn’t sleep well last night.’

  49 KITTY

  In the Ladies’ toilet, Kitty changed into her leathers and slipped from the noisy restaurant into the melancholy hush of the dark car park. A black perimeter of trees formed a dense barrier between the restaurant car park and the church, and to the rear, the houses on an estate. Only the drip, drip of the rain from sagging leaves, and an occasional hiss of tyres on the wet High Street broke the silence. A movement in the bushes made her heart bump, and she peered into the gloom, but there was nothing.

  Shaking off her unease, she mounted the Matchless and stepped on the pedal. Its roar ruptured the quiet of the night, and as she swung round towards the exit, she searched for anything unusual in the bike’s headlights as they bobbed over the glistening bushes. Satisfied she was alone, she taxied onto the road.

  Breaking from the town, she powered along the wide road, the rain coming at her like needles. Once again, she wished she had a car. The headlights of a people-carrier reflected off the wet road causing Kitty to squint, then tense in anticipation of a towering lorry behind it. The huge vehicle thundered past, sending up streams of spray. Its driver had his eyes focussed on the road ahead, oblivious to her small figure far below. A car overtook her with a hoot of its horn, and she decelerated, dropping back to escape the blinding spray thrown up in its wake.

  She was approaching her favourite part of the route - the section that would remind her why she loved her bike. This stretch of road buckled into a series of curves that snaked between the rising folds of land on either side. On a fine day, the surrounding scenery was spectacular, but tonight offered only the opportunity to accelerate and enjoy the thrill of speed - moderated because of the conditions.

  She approached the first bend and took a breath of damp air, enjoying the pressure of the wind on her leathers, ignoring the rain. At the beginning of the curve, she tested the road for traction then, comfortable with the surface, wound up the speed, leaning into the bend then out then coming upright to blast down the straight. There was a row of cottages on her left, their lamps glowing through closed curtains, and she slowed to reduce the noise of her engine, then at the next bend she risked more speed. By a miracle, the shining tarmac was deserted, and her heart rose with exhilaration as she and the bike sped towards it. She flattened the bend by clipping the dotted line, and roared round, already preparing for the next bend.

  But something was wrong. A glimpsed movement to her left confused her, then the beam of her headlamp caught the smooth wing of a car accelerating towards her from the verge. It leapt at her like an angry elephant from the jungle. With a surge of adrenalin, she yanked the Matchless to the right, but could not save herself. The bike’s wheels went from under her and it skidded onto its side. Kitty hit the road at high speed and as the engine whined at its loss of traction, her leg hit the road and she felt her hip then her shoulder crack and toboggan along the unforgiving surface. In terror she covered her head with her spare arm and closed her eyes. Her helmet clanged onto the tarmac, and the bumper of the car was upon her.

  50 SAM

  Sam crouched beside the metal bed, gaping in deep fear at his beloved Kitty. A thick layer of bandage swathed her head, and one of her legs was suspended about six inches above the mattress by an arrangement of ropes and pulleys. A canvas tent-like structure was erected over her lower torso, which Sam knew hid a metal bar, screwed into either side of her pelvis. A drainage tube ran from her side and dripped bright red blood into a plastic bag, and a monitor bleeped her heartbeat, which was steadier than it had been when Sam first arrived.

  They were alone in a side room. Through the open door, hospital life continued. A stretcher trolley squeaked along the corridor; two nurses chatted across a desk, one, with her back to Sam, leaned on the edge, scrolling through photographs on her phone and showing pictures of her holiday to her colleague. How dared they be cheerful when all around them people were suffering? Sam glared at them.

  His view was interrupted by Paul’s anguished face. ‘Christ. I got here as quick as I could. I had to use Cerys’s car. Tried to use mine, but the damned thing wouldn’t start.’ He blinked at Kitty’s unconscious face. ‘Have you seen a doctor?’

  ‘A nurse keeps coming in to check all this.’ Sam gestured at the equipment. ‘There hasn’t been a doctor since I got here half an hour ago.’

  ‘How did you hear?’

  ‘She had me in her phone as her ICE contact. The hospital called me. And as soon as I heard, I called you.’ Paul dropped into a second chair. ‘ICE?’

  ‘In Case of Emergency.’

  Paul jerked his chin up in comprehension then, his gaze still on his daughter, asked, ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘Hit and run, I think. The police were here, but they’ve left. They’re waiting for her to regain consciousness.’

  ‘Did you see to them?’

  ‘Just briefly. I arrived as they were leaving.’

  Paul’s eyes did not leave Kitty’s body. ‘Did they think it was intentional?’

  ‘Intentional?’ Sam frowned. ‘Why would anyone want to hurt Kitty intentionally?’

  Paul dragged his chair to the bedside and took one of Kitty’s hands in both of his. ‘I don’t know... She gets herself involved in some dangerous stories sometimes.’

  Sam watched Paul’s profile, seeking any indication that he knew what Kitty had been up to.

  51 KITTY

  There was pain in the room. In the red heat of her closed eyelids,
Kitty struggled to focus her sluggish brain. If she concentrated, she could identify the hub of the pain as her head. It seemed as though someone was taking a pick-axe to it, chop, chop, chop. She groaned and drew a sharp breath as even more excruciating pain shot through her head. The intake of breath sent a further bolt of agony down her back. Afraid to move, she kept her eyes closed and listened. There were voices in the room. Two voices - male. They were familiar, and she searched her head for their names. One was older. When he spoke her name, her body tensed, and pain shot from her spine and down her left leg. She screamed, and the speaker murmured, ‘She’s awake. Thank God.’

  The other voice was weeping. ‘Kitty. Kitty, can you hear me?’ She relaxed and dropped from consciousness.

  52 LUCAS

  It was late by the time the taxi dropped Lucas and Megan home from the wedding festivities. Rain sheeted down in freezing blobs, and Megan shrieked as it penetrated the thin fabric of her dress and soaked her hair. They burst inside, laughing and gasping, and after towelling their hair and faces they dropped onto the settee. Megan had made Lucas a bed on the lounge floor and they both stared at it in silence. ‘Coffee?’ Megan offered, and headed for the kitchen, returning with two steaming mugs.

  They snuggled side by side and Lucas hooked off his shoes, groaning, ‘Remind me never to wear these again.’

  ‘That’s the worst thing about weddings. They’re such joyful occasions but the shoes… ’Megan had kicked hers off by the front door where they remained, one on its side beneath the radiator, and the other balanced on its teetering heel in the middle of the carpet.

  Luc and Meg had been dating for six weeks and Lucas loved the girl more each time he saw her.

  He had agreed to try the chanting thing. At first it had been to please her, but now, he had to admit he was happier and more focussed than he had been in a long time - ever in fact. Megan had explained a little about her faith but said the most important thing for now was to chant, and to trust.

  ‘I love your friends,’ Megan put down her coffee and lay her hand, quite naturally, on his thigh.

  He pulled her to him. ‘They loved you too,’ he said and kissed her, softly at first and then more urgently feeling his desire grow. Ignoring his anxiety, he kissed her harder and chanted Nam Myoho Renge Kyo in his head, over and over. Megan unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands over his body beneath the fabric. He pulled her to her feet and unzipped her damp dress, letting it fall to the floor. Soon, they were both naked, and he held her to him, feeling the hardness of her nipples against his chest. Then, he pushed her to arms’ length and stared in wonder at her lithe body. Soon, they were tangled together on the floor, and Sam gave himself up to his passion.

  In his wildest imaginings he could not have conjured up the sensations he experienced as the more knowledgeable Megan applied her mouth and fingers to his body. Then she was on top of him, her small breasts shaking in the soft light, her face fixed in concentration. He closed his eyes and let himself go.

  They slept, curled together in her double bed, the makeshift sleeping arrangements downstairs undisturbed, and awoke to grey skies. ‘Well, Big Boy. That was nice. Very nice indeed.’ Megan ran her palm down Lucas’s stomach and cupped his flaccid penis, and to his delight it stood to attention again.

  Sometime later they pulled on underwear and padded into the sitting room. Sam picked up his mobile from between last night’s congealing mugs of coffee on the coffee table, and scrolled through his messages while Megan headed for the kitchen in search of food, calling out ‘Do you want cereal, or toast?’

  ‘Neither.’ Lucas replied, and at his tone she popped her head back into the room.

  ‘I’ve got a raft of missed calls and text messages,’ he said. ‘My Dad needs picking up from the garage. Apparently, his car broke down last night, poor guy.’ He scrolled down further and took a sharp breath. ‘And Kitty’s been in an accident.’ He threw his phone down. ‘I have to go.’

  He ran upstairs and put on yesterday’s clothes, weighing up whether to ignore his father and go straight to the hospital.

  Back in the living room, he snatched up his phone and called Mick. ‘Hi Dad.’

  ‘Hello son. You OK?’

  ‘Not great. Kitty’s in hospital.’ Lucas looked up as Megan came in bearing two mugs of tea. She set one down and gestured at it. The handle warmed Lucas’s hand and he nodded his thanks and took a gulp. On the phone there was silence. ‘Dad, are you still there?’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Not sure exactly. A motor accident, I think.’

  ‘Is it serious?’

  ‘I haven’t heard. I’m going as soon as I can, but you need a lift, don’t you?’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll grab a taxi. You get to the hospital and let me know how she is.’

  Lucas let out a relieved breath. ‘Thanks. I’ll call when I can.’

  ‘OK. Stay safe.’

  Megan was sipping her tea, her face tender. ‘Don’t rush off without chanting,’ she pleaded, ‘It will give you the knowledge to do what’s best for Kitty and her family, and it will help her too.’

  All Lucas wanted was to get to Kitty. ‘This isn’t the time, Meg. We can chant later.’

  She gave him a determined look. ‘Five minutes. It will help, I promise.’ She pulled open the double doors to the dining room and Lucas swallowed his frustration, telling himself that if he was serious about this Buddhist journey, he should take the advice of his composed and loving girl.

  ‘OK. Five minutes.’

  He sat beside her, and she banged her bell. Their voices merged in morning prayer, and in the drone of words Lucas concentrated on the advice Megan had given him: to seek his innate best self and listen to his chanting. As the minutes passed, the tension flowed from his body, replaced by a sense of peace and, yes, happiness. Somehow, he sensed that Kitty would be fine.

  Megan turned to him. ‘OK?’

  ‘Much better, thanks. I don’t understand why, but ...’

  ‘Keep me post...’

  He was already galloping down the drive to his car.

  In the packed hospital car park, Lucas monitored the slow progress of a late middle-aged couple heading for a grey Mazda. The woman leant on the man; her enormous, bandaged legs borne on tiny swollen feet. In his car, Lucas crawled towards them and stopped nearby, his heart and mind calm from his chanting. The man helped his wife into her seat and passed her the seat belt. After climbing in to join her, he started the engine and put the car into gear.

  A cruising car approached from the other direction and Lucas flipped on his indicator to show his intention. To his relief, the driver smiled, nodding, and drove on. As Lucas manoeuvred into the vacant spot, he thought, Thank you, Universe.

  The rain held off, and as he jogged to the entrance of the A & E department, he checked that he had his wallet and phone to hand. After stating his purpose to the receptionist, he sat beside a man holding a pad of red-stained gauze to a wound on his knee. The sight took Luc back to an incident in his early childhood - something fixed into his memory by adrenalin. Soon after the breakup with Mum, when Dad was not used to single-parenting and neither were his children, Mick decided to take Lucas and Olivia for a day in the forest. The trip was a disaster from the first, awkward moment - the last moment being when Lucas tumbled from a tree and gashed his inner thigh. At the memory, he rubbed his hand over the spot where he still carried a faint scar. Recollecting the incident from the point of view of maturity, he realized that his childish tears had been not only for the blood that spurted from his cut, but also from fear. Fear that he could not have expressed it at the time. Fear that his security was under threat. Fear that his single dad could not look after him and hurt because his mum had no time for him, preoccupied as she was with her restaurant. Glancing sideways at the injury of his neighbour, Lucas experienced a hollow echo of those young feelings. To distract himself, he picked up a car magazine from a nearby table, and after about half an hour, a smiling nur
se tapped his arm. ‘You can go into your friend’s room now,’ she said, and directed him to a side room where Kitty lay amid the bleeps and pulses of various monitors, watched by Paul and Sam from opposite sides of the bed.

  Lucas shook hands with Paul and hugged Sam, who clutched him for just a few seconds longer than usual. There was not a spare chair, so he took up a position at the foot of the bed and stared in horror at his almost sister. ‘She looks dreadful. What happened?’

  ‘They think it was a hit and run,’ Sam said. ‘She hasn’t spoken.’ His voice broke as he said the last word, and he swallowed.

  Lucas dragged his eyes from Kitty. ‘I’d have been here earlier but I had my sound off. Then I had to ring Dad. He wanted a lift.’

  Paul looked up. ‘Couldn’t drive himself?’

  ‘Broke down last night, I think.’

  Paul nodded. ‘I had to use Cerys’s car,’ he said, ‘Mine had a flat battery. It never rains…’

  A ring tone shrilled, and they all leapt for their phones. It was Sam whose screen lit up.

  ‘Hi Liz.’

  The tinny voice of the former restaurant worker leaked from Sam’s phone, but Lucas could not make out what she was saying. She must have apologised for calling, because Sam said, ‘It’s OK. I’m in Chelterton Hospital. Kitty’s been injured in a motor accident.’ Sam left the room with the phone to his ear, and Lucas sat in his vacated seat, facing Paul, whose eyes followed Sam, now outside the room, pacing in one direction, then another, then in a circle. When Sam returned, thrusting his phone into his shirt pocket, Lucas made to stand up, but Sam shook his head, his eyes on Paul.

  ‘That was Liz, Paul. You remember the woman who used to work for Millie?’

  ‘Yeah. She came to our engagement do.’

  ‘That’s her.’