Blood-Tied Read Free

herself struggling with the idea of Elizabeth being involved in a violent dispute and felt that at this stage it was premature to involve Gemma. She didn’t need further complications. If Elizabeth regained consciousness in the next few hours, it might all be explained away soon enough.
    Although they hadn’t implied it, Esme wondered whether the police secretly suspected Elizabeth of being involved in something underhand. Wasn’t that customary? If you spent your working life dealing with criminals did you eventually come to assume that everyone had something to hide? It must be an occupational hazard, surely? With both her and Gemma admitting to the police that they had no idea why Elizabeth had been in the park, and a witness’s report of an argument, it was inevitable that suspicions would be aroused. After all, she had questions of her own. Not least, whose pictures were in the locket.
    She had handed the necklace to Gemma afterwards wondering whether, like Esme, she would open it and find the same enigma inside, but Gemma nodded her thanks and slipped it into her pocket without giving it a second glance. Esme hadn’t felt able to say anything further. Her head was still in turmoil. If it hadn’t been for the distinctive damage which identified it as Elizabeth’s she would have convinced herself that it belonged to someone else.
    Esme offered to go alone to Elizabeth’s house but Gemma seemed keen to accompany her. Perhaps Gemma felt the visit would offer some comfort, being in touch with familiar possessions which she associated with Elizabeth. Or maybe she simply felt it gave her something constructive to do. They set out together, Esme envisaging that the trip would involve no more than a quick scan of the calendar, the picking up of the post and that they would be back at Elizabeth’s bedside by late afternoon.
    It took an hour to drive to Elizabeth’s house. The windscreen wipers droned rhythmically most of the way, but there was a break in the weather as they arrived and a patch of blue appeared between the intimidating clouds. They’d said little on the journey apart from discussing Elizabeth’s continuing unconsciousness. The medics were at pains to stress that there were no definitive answers as to how long her recovery would take. Patience, along with hope, was what was needed. Esme revisited her thoughts on having an early explanation of everything from Elizabeth. Keeping Gemma in the dark about the argument in the park might not be an option she could stick with. Perhaps the opportunity to tell her would present itself shortly.
    Esme tried to assess the facts rationally. It seemed possible that the argument was merely the figment of someone’s vivid imagination. Elizabeth could simply have been reprimanding someone for dropping litter. That was more Elizabeth’s style. The witness could have misinterpreted what she saw and embellished it. That seemed a reasonable assumption.
    But that didn’t explain the locket.
    As they pulled into the drive of Elizabeth’s house and got out of the car, Elizabeth’s friend and neighbour, Brenda, called to them, waving from her doorstep. She had obviously seen their arrival from the kitchen sink because she was peeling off a pair of pink rubber gloves as she tottered across her driveway to speak to them over the hedge.
    ‘Gemma, dear, we were so shocked to hear about your mum,’ said Brenda, shaking her head, her grey, permed hair remaining rigid despite the breeze. Gemma updated her on Elizabeth’s condition.
    ‘We’ve come to sort out a few things,’ she explained. ‘Deal with Mum’s post and stuff.’
    ‘Of course,’ said Brenda, nodding gravely. ‘But I ought to tell you about the man who called round a few days ago.’
    ‘What man?’ said Esme abruptly.
    ‘Tony saw him while he was in the garden.’ Brenda eagerly turned her attention to Esme as Gemma appeared uninterested. ‘He was at the front door and Tony called across to him, you know,