DARK CRIMES a British crime mystery full of twists by MICHAEL HAMBLING

Author:MICHAEL HAMBLING [HAMBLING, MICHAEL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books Mystery, Crime Thriller, Suspense Fiction
Published: 2024-10-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13: The Face on the Screen

Saturday Afternoon, Week 1

Sophie was sitting on a bench in the gardens by the old Victorian pier at Swanage, with Barry Marsh and Lydia Pillay. They’d decided to come out for some fish and chips, and were eating them in the weak November sunshine, looking out across the open sea to the chalk cliffs on the opposite side of the bay. The sunshine glinted on the waves gently rolling towards the sandy beach. A few families were braving the chilly air and bundled-up children were building sandcastles.

‘It’s the only way to eat fish and chips, ma’am. It’s just got to be outside, in the sun, with a sea view. Trust me, I’m an expert.’ Marsh popped another chip into his mouth.

Sophie laughed. ‘I hope your weight doesn’t end up doubling, Barry, if you’re such an expert. Women like a toned man, don’t they, Lydia?’

‘Oh yes. Preferably one who’s got some muscles on him, you know, just like that Diet Coke ad. Jeans, a white vest and well-developed pecs. Dark stubble. The moody, mysterious, Mediterranean look. That’s what I go for.’

‘There you go, Barry. You now know what turns the girls on, so go easy with the fish and chips. But I must say these are really tasty. Just what I remember from going on holiday with my mum as a child. It was always one of the high spots of our annual holiday. Fish and chips on the Friday night before we came home.’

‘But I thought—’ said Marsh.

‘You thought what, Barry?’

He hesitated for a moment. ‘Well, it’s just after what you told me a couple of days ago, about going to Oxford and that. I was just a bit surprised that you came to places like this for your holidays.’

His face was pink with embarrassment.

‘Oh no, this kind of place was a bit expensive for us. It was always a caravan in Weston-super-Mare or Portishead. I grew up in a council flat in Bristol. And it was just me and my mum. She was a single parent. I’ve never met my father. He disappeared before my mother knew she was pregnant. She was sixteen at the time. Things are not always as they seem, Barry, when it comes to people. Are you a bit disappointed now?’

‘No, ma’am, not at all. The opposite. I’m even more impressed than I was. To think that you’ve done all you have, and come from an absolutely ordinary background like that. It’s amazing. I always thought that you were from a posh family.’

‘My mother was a bit of a rebel. She was — is — a very intelligent woman. But when she was a teenager and fell pregnant with me, her parents threw her out. She’s never forgiven them and neither have I. She never spoke to them again. But I kept in touch, partly to try to understand why they did what they did. Though I’ve never managed to, not on an emotional level. It’s kind of understandable

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