there?
More than once, a single dried strand of rolling tobacco had fallen out into her lap as she’d unfolded one of the letters. She brushed it quickly away, hoping it was not one that Nicklin himself had plucked, sticky from his lips.
Looks like I’ll be seeing DEFECTIVE inspector TOM THORNE again quite soon
– going on a trip together which I’m very much looking forward to. Will also be taking the friend I mentioned before which has got me thinking how important friendship is
– especially in a place like this
– having somebody you can count on I mean. THORNE is definitely someone who is very loyal to his friends. Yes he probably loves the new woman in his life and the child he’s been lumbered with but I think he understands that loyalty to friends is definitely the most important quality anyone can have
– that friendship is not just SKIN DEEP. Let’s face it we’re stuck with family for good or ill
– you must know that better than ANYONE. Luckily we get the chance to choose our FRIENDS though. As for our ENEMIES that’s a whole different question!!!
After two and a half hours, Kitson had read as much as she was willing to for one night. She had got through all the letters from the previous few months and a good many of those from much earlier. A hundred or so altogether. She wondered how Thorne would feel about being talked about, and not just in the most recent letters. She tried to imagine how she would feel if she was the one Nicklin was thinking about like that and couldn’t. She put the cardboard box back into the boot of the car and tossed an old dog blanket across it.
She smoked one more cigarette then went inside to email Thorne.
FIFTEEN
Helen was laughing…
‘… and the bloke who runs the place is like this cartoon Welshman,’ Thorne said. ‘With a big red face and looking like he’s always just about to burst into song.’ They both laughed. ‘Honestly, he’s like a dog with two dicks because he’s got some actual guests, but he’s a bit over-friendly for my liking.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, moved the phone from one ear to the other and leaned down to untie his shoelaces. ‘I think there’s every chance we’ll be murdered in our beds.’
‘It all sounds lovely,’ Helen said.
Thorne looked around the room, wondering what else he could find to tell her about. ‘Oh and the remote control for the TV is attached to the wall… on a curly wire. I swear, it’s actually
attached
, so people can’t nick it. Does anybody bother to steal remote controls?’
‘Some people’ll take anything, you give them the chance.’
‘Yeah, I suppose.’ Thorne could hear Alfie shouting in the background. Helen’s son, just a few months away from his second birthday. Helen tried and failed to shush him. ‘How’s he doing?’
‘Well, he’s not asleep.’
‘Because I’m not there to read him a story,’ Thorne said.
‘Oh, is that it?’
‘Seriously, I’ve got the knack of getting him off now.’
‘He does miss you,’ Helen said. ‘His mood’s different.’
‘Really?’
‘I’ve told you.’
Thorne glanced up at the mirror on the wardrobe door, saw that he was grinning.
‘So everything’s going OK, then, is it?’ Helen asked. ‘How you getting on with your new CSM?’
Thorne sat up straight. Why on earth would she ask that? Had she heard something in his voice? How could there be
anything
in his voice?
‘Yeah, she’s OK,’ Thorne said. ‘I’ve hardly spoken to her, tell you the truth. She was stuck in the back-up car with Sam Karim.’
‘Right…’
Thorne could still see the look on Wendy Markham’s face when she’d asked him back to her room. The intention had been obvious enough. I mean, nightcap? Had she brought a bottle of wine or something with her? Obviously, there was no bottle of anything. It was a pretty straightforward proposition. Thorne felt good about turning her down, he felt… noble.
And yet…
She was
More than once, a single dried strand of rolling tobacco had fallen out into her lap as she’d unfolded one of the letters. She brushed it quickly away, hoping it was not one that Nicklin himself had plucked, sticky from his lips.
Looks like I’ll be seeing DEFECTIVE inspector TOM THORNE again quite soon
– going on a trip together which I’m very much looking forward to. Will also be taking the friend I mentioned before which has got me thinking how important friendship is
– especially in a place like this
– having somebody you can count on I mean. THORNE is definitely someone who is very loyal to his friends. Yes he probably loves the new woman in his life and the child he’s been lumbered with but I think he understands that loyalty to friends is definitely the most important quality anyone can have
– that friendship is not just SKIN DEEP. Let’s face it we’re stuck with family for good or ill
– you must know that better than ANYONE. Luckily we get the chance to choose our FRIENDS though. As for our ENEMIES that’s a whole different question!!!
After two and a half hours, Kitson had read as much as she was willing to for one night. She had got through all the letters from the previous few months and a good many of those from much earlier. A hundred or so altogether. She wondered how Thorne would feel about being talked about, and not just in the most recent letters. She tried to imagine how she would feel if she was the one Nicklin was thinking about like that and couldn’t. She put the cardboard box back into the boot of the car and tossed an old dog blanket across it.
She smoked one more cigarette then went inside to email Thorne.
FIFTEEN
Helen was laughing…
‘… and the bloke who runs the place is like this cartoon Welshman,’ Thorne said. ‘With a big red face and looking like he’s always just about to burst into song.’ They both laughed. ‘Honestly, he’s like a dog with two dicks because he’s got some actual guests, but he’s a bit over-friendly for my liking.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, moved the phone from one ear to the other and leaned down to untie his shoelaces. ‘I think there’s every chance we’ll be murdered in our beds.’
‘It all sounds lovely,’ Helen said.
Thorne looked around the room, wondering what else he could find to tell her about. ‘Oh and the remote control for the TV is attached to the wall… on a curly wire. I swear, it’s actually
attached
, so people can’t nick it. Does anybody bother to steal remote controls?’
‘Some people’ll take anything, you give them the chance.’
‘Yeah, I suppose.’ Thorne could hear Alfie shouting in the background. Helen’s son, just a few months away from his second birthday. Helen tried and failed to shush him. ‘How’s he doing?’
‘Well, he’s not asleep.’
‘Because I’m not there to read him a story,’ Thorne said.
‘Oh, is that it?’
‘Seriously, I’ve got the knack of getting him off now.’
‘He does miss you,’ Helen said. ‘His mood’s different.’
‘Really?’
‘I’ve told you.’
Thorne glanced up at the mirror on the wardrobe door, saw that he was grinning.
‘So everything’s going OK, then, is it?’ Helen asked. ‘How you getting on with your new CSM?’
Thorne sat up straight. Why on earth would she ask that? Had she heard something in his voice? How could there be
anything
in his voice?
‘Yeah, she’s OK,’ Thorne said. ‘I’ve hardly spoken to her, tell you the truth. She was stuck in the back-up car with Sam Karim.’
‘Right…’
Thorne could still see the look on Wendy Markham’s face when she’d asked him back to her room. The intention had been obvious enough. I mean, nightcap? Had she brought a bottle of wine or something with her? Obviously, there was no bottle of anything. It was a pretty straightforward proposition. Thorne felt good about turning her down, he felt… noble.
And yet…
She was
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