She had told the truth before. Their life together was imperfect but as a whole their standard of living was better than most. Far superior to where she sprang from. There was much to be grateful for. Much to preserve. Each of them found their own ways to manage and kept the details from the other. Maintaining the family unit was important. Necessary. No matter what. The fire ensured one thing for certain. The person she kept well buried, the one she thought long gone needed to return. Whatever you have to do, she told herself as she finished the remainder of her drink.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was well after lunchtime when Janssen returned to the station with Colin Bettany in tow. Tamara Greave was rummaging for the scraps at the bottom of a packet of crisps as he entered the ops room. They took a detour on the way back from the Francis house, stopping to buy sandwiches from a Tesco Express. The selection on offer after lunchtime was largely uninspiring but she found something. Janssen took off almost immediately upon their return, keen to bring the doctor in for a chat as soon as possible. She understood. Attacking Ken on the beach as he had done was supposedly out of character but she wasn’t so sure.
Maddie alluded to the controlling nature of her parents, referencing her father in particular with his desire to know his daughters’ whereabouts at all times. Arguably, that was the action of some fathers with their teenage girls. Her own, for all his views on environmental protections, liberty and humanist lifestyle, still found it hard when his daughter carved her own way in the world. A path, in his eyes, diametrically opposed to his world view. It wasn’t. She just saw society in a wider context rather than the narrow perception he chose to adopt. And it was a choice. With him, everything was black and white, right or wrong. The grey areas were conversations for other people to waste their time on. In her view that was why they clashed. Her opinion differed to his and he couldn’t handle it. Her mother said it was a generational thing. A catch-all description whenever family members fell out and an amicable settlement seemed far from reachable.
Thinking on what Maddie told her as well as Eric’s view of the GP, she wondered how much of his behaviour was a construct of his own upbringing. A professional, educated to live a certain way of life regarding education and career, looking to ensure further continuity in the next generation. A preordained existence, structured without room to deviate. Holly struck her as someone looking for a different path, one she knew would be disapproved of by her parents. So, she kept it a secret from them, from everyone. Almost everyone. Where some teenagers came home with multiple piercings or a boyfriend wearing make-up, dressed head to toe in black, Holly chose a different path. On the surface she toed the line but once out of sight she made her own rules.
The truly sad aspect to it all were the obvious signs of her pain. The attitude at school, her estrangement from her peers and the arguments with her parents were all symptoms of a troubled mind. By all accounts the tutor was aware something was wrong as was the school. The signs were there, if only people had been willing to see. But she hid them well, didn’t she. Just like you did once. Maybe her behaviour was judged as routine adolescent rebellion. Nothing pointed towards a reason for her to die, though. The affair with Ken and an unwanted pregnancy could lead to motive. People killed for less.
Colin’s reaction towards Ken wasn’t spontaneous. It couldn’t be. To know where Ken would be, he would either have needed the luck of the gods to stumble across his path or he followed them to the beach. Those were the actions of a focussed mind, driven perhaps by mounting grief, anger or frustration. A need to lash out at someone. Ken would fit the criteria. They were of a similar age group, after all. She tried to imagine herself in his place. How would she react? Badly.
Eric snapped his lunchbox shut. The sound brought her out of her silent thought process. Looking over at him, he smiled. She indicated he had something stuck in his teeth. Whatever his mother made him that morning didn’t smell great. He seemed embarrassed as he set about his teeth with the edge of a fingernail, ducking his head from view. The constable was so young, so innocent. It was hard to believe he already had the years under his belt to qualify for CID. Then again, things were changing. When she first sought to joined the criminal investigation department it was for a break to the monotony of being in uniform. An opportunity to get stuck into cases, to really make a difference in taking criminals off the streets. A good career path as well. These days, however, detectives often felt they were being stiffed by the Home Office.
Not that she would have played it any differently. Richard, on the other hand, would have her back in uniform in a heartbeat if not out of the job altogether. Her thoughts turned to her fiancé. They hadn’t spoken since Sunday evening. She was avoiding the conversation if the truth were known. Richard could sulk, as well as she could, to be fair, but he would get over it and probably already had. Why he hadn’t initiated a call as he usually would, was confusing.
Janssen entered. Colin Bettany was
