HONOUR THY FATHER a gripping British crime mystery full of twists by ALISON JOSEPH

Author:ALISON JOSEPH [JOSEPH, ALISON]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books Mystery, Crime Thriller, Suspense
Published: 2024-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Agnes was aware that her phone had been ringing for some time. Eventually she stirred herself from her bed and picked it up.

‘Yes?’

‘Ah, you are there, then.’

‘Oh, Julius.’

‘Only, the order assured me you were back from France, and you haven’t been answering the phone, and I was beginning to worry . . .’

‘Yes, I’m back.’

‘From the sound of it . . . perhaps I’m intruding. Phone me, maybe, at some point . . . when you’re ready.’

‘Julius?’ He’d gone. Agnes replaced the phone, and flopped back on to her pillows. Then she got up, switched on her answering machine and got back into bed.

Some time later the phone rang again. Agnes heard her machine pick up the message.

‘Agnes, it’s Eleanor. I thought maybe I’d see you today. It’s just we knew you were back and . . . anyway, maybe you could ring me at the prison as soon as possible. Thank you.’

Agnes pulled the covers around her ears. She fell into a confused and dozing sleep, and woke to hear Athena’s voice on her answering machine.

‘Oh, you poor sweetie, bet it was terrible in France. Loads to talk about. Phone me. Byeee.’

Agnes smiled. She stared at the ceiling. The afternoon sunlight flickered through her curtains, and she thought about the flight back to London yesterday. Closer to God, she’d wondered, hurtling through the heavens above the clouds. Unfettered, like Julius had said. Lightening the spirit. Certainly, Agnes thought, getting out of bed, and switching on her bar fire, she’d felt her spirit lighten as they’d reached London.

She showered, made some tea and phoned Athena.

‘Yes, it was terrible. Are you free this evening?’

‘I certainly am, sweetie. Tapas bar again?’

‘Fine. Eight-ish?’

‘See you then.’

* * *

‘And how’s Greg?’ Agnes looked at Athena, who was wearing a new maroon silk shirt and matching lipstick. ‘You look great, by the way.’

Athena smiled smugly. ‘Greg’s fine, actually.’

‘All right for some.’

‘Poor sweetie. Did you have a rough time?’

‘You could put it like that.’

‘Despite it being what, twenty-five degrees? Sunshine every day, beautiful beach, wonderful food . . . ?’

‘It almost compensated,’ Agnes laughed. ‘And so Greg’s made up for his thoughtless phone manner?’

‘It’s a boy thing, isn’t it, being hopeless on the phone? It turned out he was desperately sorry. I saw him while you were away. We went out for dinner and afterwards . . .’

‘Yes?’

Athena leaned back in her chair. ‘Mmmmm.’

‘So the path of true love is back on course again?’

Athena beamed. ‘Absolutely. Although, sweetie, on course for what? At least Nic’s stopped going on about this house business. In fact, he’s leaving me in peace, thank goodness. Anyway, enough about me, what about you? How was she, your mother?’

Agnes poured herself another glass of wine and drank half of it.

‘That bad?’ Athena waited.

Eventually Agnes said, ‘She’s much worse, physically. She can’t speak at all. I thought at first she was pretending, but she isn’t. She doesn’t speak to anyone. And’ — Agnes drank more wine — ‘she didn’t seem to recognise me.

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