by M. J. Ford
‘Blake’s older brother?’
Carrick nodded. ‘Seems he took a beating in prison the same night his mum’s house got torched. He’s willing to talk to us – name names. Dimi’s gone there to squeeze the juice out of him.’
A bigger fish … thought Jo.
They’d done a circuit, and arrived back where the guests were milling. Many, though, were moving off. The wake, with no dissenting voices, was being informally held at the Three Crowns, and Jo promised she’d be along shortly, with Theo.
‘Talk to me next week about work,’ said Carrick. ‘We’ll go through the options.’
She kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Andy.’
She was walking towards her car when Jessica Granger approached from the other direction, alone. Beyond her, her step-son stood just inside the chapel, in conversation with the funeral director.
‘I was worried you’d already left,’ she said, ‘and I hadn’t thanked you for delivering such a lovely speech.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ said Jo. ‘I’m flattered you asked me.’
Jessica spread her gloved hands. ‘You know, I think I never really knew him all that well. I thought I did, but it’s my belief now that the job shaped him more than I realised. It shapes you all, I expect.’
And rarely for the better, Jo thought.
‘You’re probably right,’ she said.
Jessica smiled, and her gaze lingered on Jo quizzically. ‘You know, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you remind me very much of my daughter Lindsay.’
Jo flushed, with no idea how to respond.
‘Oh, I’ve embarrassed you,’ continued Jessica. ‘I’m sorry. You don’t look alike, but you have something in common. A sort of strength. I imagine that’s why Harry liked you so much.’
Once Jo would have laughed, to deflect the compliment, but the earnest look in Jessica Granger’s eyes stopped her.
‘I don’t feel strong most of the time,’ she said.
‘We’d better go, Mum,’ called her step-son.
Jessica rolled her eyes, and took off one of her gloves, reaching out to lay a bare hand on Jo’s cheek. Her skin was cool and smooth as satin.
‘Dear,’ she said, ‘the really strong never do. Look after yourself, my girl.’
Her hand slipped off, and Jo watched as Harry Ferman’s ex-wife walked away. Her son put his arm around her, and she leant on him a little.
Back in the car, she called her brother and told them she was on the way to get Theo. Then, before she started the engine, she dialled one more number.
‘Hello?’ said Lucas.
‘Hey, it’s me.’
‘Jo?’ he said. He sounded surprised, and thankfully sober.
‘The one and only. Listen, we never got round to that walk around the gardens, did we?’
‘I didn’t think you’d want to,’ he said.
It’s not about what I want, thought Jo. ‘I’m sorry – it’s been mad at work. But if you’ve got time …
‘Of course! Yes. When?’
‘How does this afternoon sound? I think we need to talk, don’t you? Properly.’
He didn’t answer for a second or two. ‘I’m not sure I’d know where to start.’
Me neither, to be honest.
‘We’ll muddle through,’ she said. ‘Three o’clock, main gate? I’m the knackered-looking woman with the pushchair.’
‘I’ll find you,’ he said.
Acknowledgements
All characters and scenarios in these pages are entirely fictional, but I was influenced by many stories in the news, and from acquaintances, regarding the care system in this country for vulnerable children. I would like to thank Julie Lewis for answering my questions regarding the procedural elements of that system and the plausibility of certain scenarios within the novel. Factual inaccuracies are all my own, and have been introduced as the story required.
If you enjoyed Watch Over You then why not go back to where it all began in the first Josie Masters book.
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Josie Masters is in a desperate race against the clock to find the killer …
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
M.J. Ford lives with his wife and family on the edge of the Peak District in the north of England. He has worked as an editor and writer of children’s fiction for many years. His debut novel, Hold My Hand, was published in 2018. Watch Over You is his third crime book. You can follow Michael @MJFordBooks.
By the same author:
Hold My Hand
Keep Her Close
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