Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5) David Gatward (reading strategies book txt) 📖

with Matt and Jadyn at his heels, that it wasn’t until he was halfway back along the marketplace that he realised he hadn’t even finished his bacon butty.

Chapter Three

The speed at which Matt raced them out of Hawes and then on and up through Burtersett had Harry hanging on to the handle above the passenger door, the bones of his knuckles threatening to break through his skin. The rain was fairly coming down now, crashing into the windscreen as though the road was lined with people just lobbing buckets of water at them, and the wipers were working full pelt to just keep it clear.

‘Nice to see that you’re taking the road conditions into consideration,’ Harry observed, as they zipped past the old Methodist chapel on their right, then up and round the left-hand bend in the lane, then on towards Jim’s farm.

‘I know the roads, we’re fine,’ Matt said, his eyes staring hard through the now-awful weather. ‘Anyway, this isn’t proper rain, is it? Nowt but a shower!’

An ambulance swept past them going the other direction, spraying them with a thick, grey wave of water, its edges laced with diamonds. Hard to believe the day had started so bright and sunny, Harry thought.

‘Well, I’d rather not get to know them too personally,’ Harry said.

Matt hung a left, then immediately after, drifted them just a little sideways into the farmyard on their left, past the house Jim had grown up in, which he still shared with his parents.

‘Nicely driven, Sarge,’ Jadyn said. ‘Learn to drive on the bumper cars, did you?’

Harry was up and out of the car in a beat, Matt and Jadyn following close behind, the rain crashing down to ping off the roof of Matt’s car like jumping beans, the farmyard an explosion of tiny crowns of dirty water as the drops slammed down into new and rapidly growing puddles.

‘Over here, Boss!’

Harry looked over to the house to see Jim at the back door, waving at them through the rain. Fly was at his feet. As Harry jogged over the dog raced to meet him, ignoring Jim’s calls for it to stay. Harry dropped to his heels as Fly skidded into him, his teeth bared in what they had all started to refer to as Fly’s Happy Face, flipping over onto his back and into a puddle, his tummy to the sky. Harry gave it a rub, then stood up and quickly closed the distance to Jim, Fly at his heels, ducking inside out of the rain.

‘So, what have we got, then?’ he asked. ‘How’s your dad? What happened?’

‘He’s okay,’ Jim said. ‘He’s away to the hospital now, over in Northallerton. You just missed the ambulance.’

‘So that was your dad, then?’ Harry said.

‘Mum’s with him,’ Jim said. ‘He’s fine, I’m sure. Tough old sod, he is. Didn’t like that we were all making such a fuss. Good luck to them getting him to stay overnight if he needs to.’

Matt and Jadyn were with Harry now and Jim led the three of them into the house. It was the first time Harry had ever been inside, and it, like the rest of the farm he’d seen on the way in, told him that when it came to farming, Jim’s parents were the kind of people who liked things just so. Outside in the yard, the tractors and other machinery he had seen were parked away nicely under shelter, the barns and other outbuildings all in good repair. In the small field adjacent to the yard, a haybarn stood, its contents stacked neat and dry. In the house, that same sense of order prevailed and as they walked through the hall and into the kitchen, Harry saw nothing out of place. Even the small number of pictures on the wall, which comprised of either prints of views of the dales, or photographs of Jim at various stages of his life, were, Harry was sure, dead level. He also noticed on the walls, both in the hall and the kitchen, numerous rosettes and certificates, and whatever they were for, they were clearly held onto and regarded with pride.

‘Right then, I’ll be mother and get the kettle on,’ Matt said, striding across the kitchen and over to the sink. ‘Because, as we all know, a decent brew solves most of life’s problems and helps you think clearly. Jim, get yourself sat down and fill us in on what’s been going on.’

‘There’s cake in the cupboard, just above the toaster,’ Jim said. ‘Mum made it last week.’

‘Homemade cake?’ Matt said. ‘Seriously? Does she take orders?’

Jim laughed. ‘I’ll ask,’ he said. ‘I’m sure she would, for you anyway.’

Harry sat down at the large, worn kitchen table which took up most of the central area of the kitchen. Jadyn joined him.

The room was warm, Harry noticed, and he put this down to the fact that instead of a normal cooker, a huge Aga was standing proud against one wall. Fly was already curled up in a basket in front of it.

‘Come on then, Jim,’ Harry said. ‘Have yourself a seat and tell us exactly what’s happened.’

Jim sat down and Harry saw that despite the smile the young PCSO had greeted them with, there was a weariness in his eyes. But there was something else there, too, Harry thought, a steely look which told him that anger was bubbling just beneath the surface. He understood that completely. Dealing with crime when it happened to others was one thing, but when it sneaks through your own front door to do its worst to you and yours? Well, that was something entirely different.

Matt came over with mugs of tea all round and some of Jim’s mum’s cake, which Harry saw was a sponge covered in light brown icing.

‘It’s a coffee cake,’ Jim said, reaching for a piece himself. ‘It’s my favourite and absolutely bloody delicious!’

Harry reached for a piece and took a bite and discovered that Jim wasn’t lying. ‘That’s amazing!’

‘Mum’s a pretty excellent cook,’ Jim