Letting out the Worms: Guilty or not? If not then the alternative is terrifying (Kitty Thomas Book 1 Sue Nicholls (best short books to read TXT) 📖

service again.’ He passed over his business card, and Kitty slipped it into her worn wallet. She shoved the wallet into her back pocket, where it formed a carbuncle on her buttock, and said, ‘You never know.’

Despite the grim objective of their visit, in the sunshine with the sound of the sea in the background and the scent of garlic wafting from a nearby bistro, Kitty’s spirits rose. A shower tonight and a change of outfit into something looser, would be pleasant. And tomorrow they would enjoy a snack and a beer at Le Chamarel.

~~~

The shady veranda of Le Chamarel smelled of cedar and wine. Above their heads, large fans turned lethargically in the afternoon heat. Inside the restaurant, which they could just make out through its smoky windows, white tablecloths glowed in the gloom, while some distance away, on the other side of a pewter coloured track and beyond a deep band of scrubby grass, the dazzling sky was punctured by a jagged mass of black rock. A footpath created by countless feet snaked from the base of this promontory to meld with the ragged lava at its peak, and out of sight, the sea crashed in muffled explosions at its foot. Was that the place where Mummy had fallen to her death? Kitty quailed at the prospect of climbing that mound to look down at the murderous rocks.

Kitty looked back at the route that had brought them here. Side by side, she and Sam had climbed a steep path from the town, resisting the wares of a boy with a motorbike, who was peddling deep-fried food he told them was called Gajak. The air, as they drew passed him, was filled with the aroma of garlic, spices and fish. They continued climbing past a smattering of whitewashed houses and paused beside the partial screen of shrubs that protected the homes from the sea wind and salt. An opening between the bushes gave a view of the track that led across a grassy area to the restaurant, about three hundred yards away. This was where Paul must have crouched to watch Fee, all those years before. Now, on the veranda of the restaurant, Kitty and Sam stood where Max might have stood, waiting for his bride to appear.

Kitty and Sam sat at a table, and soon a young waiter came from inside to take their order. Sam ordered two beers, and when they arrived, the glass dewy with cold, he asked to see Sebastian. The waiter asked their business and Kitty explained.

Moments later, a small, swarthy man appeared. His off-white linen shirt hung over loose, khaki trousers, and bare toes poked from his leather sandals. ‘M’sieur ‘Damme, you wish to see me?’

They introduced themselves. Sebastian was expecting them since Michel had mentioned their visit. He drew up a chair from a neighbouring table, and the waiter returned with a small white cup and saucer containing black coffee. Sebastien nodded in acknowledgement and took a sip, his eyes fixed on Kitty over the rim. ‘I was not working on that day. I cannot remember why, but I do know what happened because everyone was talking about it on the following morning.’

Kitty took a gulp of her beer. ‘Is there anyone who might remember what happened?’

‘Jean was in charge on that night. I don’t know about the waiting staff, they come and go, but Jean was one of our managers then. He has retired now but he was certainly here. He still mentions it sometimes.’

Sebastien wrote down details of the bar frequented by Jean. ‘He is a lively fellow,’ Sebastien remarked, ‘You will find him with an audience and a skin full of rum.’

The smell of the Gajak had made Kitty and Sam hungry and they asked for a menu.

When Sebastien brought it to them, he had a twinkle in his eye. ‘There are many interesting dishes on this menu that are typically Mauritian. We are proud of them. Many of our guests from England, like to be safe. They choose white fish or something with chips, but I feel you two might like a little gastronomic adventure, am I right?

Kitty nodded and on Sebastien’s recommendation, ordered octopus curry. Sam, who was a little more cautious, was persuaded to try a tomato-based fish stew called Rougaille.

Both were delicious.

41 JOSH

Josh stood under the warm cascade of his shower, trying to enjoy its heat as it washed away the sweat and cement dust, and eased his aching shoulders. Later he would walk to the pub to spend this Friday evening with the same men he worked with every day - the gang of builders, less educated, less complicated, and less serious than his academic ‘siblishes.’ These men, many of whom he had known for years through working on numerous building projects, were mates. In their company, he never mentioned his past - did not want to because that was not the kind of relationship they had. In moments of introspection, he understood that dropping out of university and frequenting pubs and clubs with a bunch of labourers was escapism. He understood he was running away from his childhood but could see nothing wrong with that.

The other week, with Kitty and the others, he was the one to decide it was time to face up to the past. He was the one who suggested opening that ‘can of worms.’ Even so, he did not wish the little blighters to wriggle into every corner of his life.

He squeezed a glob of shower gel onto his wet palm and rubbed it into his hair as if trying to irradicate the source of his irritation. After his conversation with Anwen in the van, he was furious with Kitty. What the hell was she trying to achieve by digging into the whole sorry mess? And getting Anwen involved - that was plain wrong. He longed to have this out with