‘Of course not,’ Marjory had assured her. And as she parked the car she promised herself that even if Bill said what a shame it was they’d split up, she wouldn’t so much as exchange glances with Cat. She’d just agree and smile.
Bill was coming across the yard, Meg at his heels. When they saw her Meg rushed over, barking joyfully and Bill followed her, beaming. He was always happy at the end of a case; increasingly, he hated watching her worry her way through all the problems, short of sleep and stressed.
‘Good to see you! I thought you might have been a lot later, with all that. How did it go?’
‘All right, I suppose – if you can say that. It’s been – nasty.’
He eyed her narrowly. ‘You’re looking terrible.’
‘Gee, thanks,’ she said. ‘Considering the lack of sleep, I’m looking pretty good, I think.’
Cat and Cammie were sitting at the kitchen table. Cat got up to kiss her, then gave her a hard look. ‘God, you look awful!’
‘I’m feeling worse by the minute, thank you,’ Marjory said. ‘Anything you’d like to add, Cammie?’
Cammie grinned. ‘You look like a woman who needs a dram,’ he said.
She smiled on him fondly. ‘You get more and more like your dear father every day. Someone can bring it to me – I’m going to sit down.’
With Meg trotting importantly ahead, she went through to the sitting room to sit down in the shabby armchair that they’d never got around to replacing. The dog threw herself down on the hearthrug then sat up again to look in disappointment at the unlit fire, then at her mistress.
‘You don’t need a fire, Meggie. It’s a lovely warm evening,’ Marjory told her firmly.
After a grey day, the sun had broken through, pale and tentative to be sure, but it was flooding the room with soft evening light. She leant back in the chair and shut her eyes, hearing the sounds of chat and laughter coming from the kitchen.
They had worked it out in the end. Everyone, from the chief constable down, was pleased with her. But she was always aware of her shortcomings: if she’d been quicker, cleverer, maybe … It was a punishing job, and the scars it left grew deeper, more painful, as time went on. If she allowed herself to think like that too much she’d be tempted to chuck the whole thing.
The sound of clinking glasses and cheerful voices was coming nearer and she opened her eyes and sat up, scolding herself. She was a lucky woman, beloved and cherished. Whatever happened outside, she had Bill and the children and this place, always the still centre of her troubled world.
There was a solid measure in the crystal glass Bill held out to her. ‘I made it a double,’ he said. ‘And Cat’s bringing the crisps.’
‘Sour cream and chive?’ Marjory asked. ‘Then what more could any woman want?’
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By Aline Templeton
Evil for Evil
Bad Blood
The Third Sin
Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
12 Fitzroy Mews
London W1T 6DW
www.allisonandbusby.com
First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2015.
This ebook edition published by Allison & Busby in 2015.
Copyright © 2015 by ALINE TEMPLETON
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–1643–2
The Third Sin Page 36
