Foxglove Summer Read Free Page B

granddad. ‘I thought you made all that stuff up.’ She turned to me. ‘What exactly are you worried would happen?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘But I’m not in a hurry to find out.’
    I sipped the tea. It was proper builder’s tea, thank god. I’m all for delicate flavour, but after a stint on the motorway you want something with a bit more bite then Earl Grey.
    ‘So, tell me, Peter,’ said Hugh. ‘What brings the starling so far from the Smoke?’
    I wondered just when I’d become ‘the starling’ and why everyone who was anyone in the supernatural community had such a problem with proper nouns.
    ‘Do you listen to the news?’ I asked.
    ‘Ah,’ said Hugh and nodded. ‘The missing children.’
    ‘What’s that got to do with us?’ asked Mellissa.
    I sighed – policing would be so much easier if people didn’t have concerned relatives. The murder rate would be much lower, for one thing.
    ‘It’s just a routine check,’ I said.
    ‘On granddad?’ asked Mellissa. I could see her beginning to get angry. ‘What are you saying?’
    Hugh smiled at her. ‘It’s quite flattering really – they obviously regard me as strong enough to be a public menace.’
    ‘But children?’ said Mellissa, and glared at me.
    I shrugged. ‘It really is just routine,’ I said. Just the same way we routinely put a victim’s nearest and dearest on the suspects list or grow suspicious of relatives who get all defensive when we make our legitimate inquiries. Is it fair? No. Is it warranted? Who knows. Is it policing? Ask a stupid question.
    Lesley always said that I wasn’t suspicious enough to do the job properly, and tasered me in the back to drive the point home. So, yeah, I stay suspicious these days – even when I’m having tea with likable old buffers.
    I did have a crumpet, though, because you can take professional paranoia too far.
    ‘You didn’t notice anything unusual in the last week or so?’ I asked.
    ‘I can’t say I have, but I’m not as perceptive as I once was,’ said Hugh. ‘Or rather, I should say, I am not as reliably perceptive as I was in my prime.’ He looked at his granddaughter. ‘How about you, my dear?’
    ‘It’s been unusually hot,’ she said. ‘But that could just be global warming.’
    Hugh smiled weakly.
    ‘There you have it, I’m afraid,’ he said, and asked Mellissa if he might be permitted to have a second crumpet.
    ‘Of course,’ she said and placed one in front of him. Hugh reached out with a trembling hand and, after a few false starts, seized the crumpet with a triumphant wheeze. Mellissa watched with concern as he lifted it to his mouth, took a large bite and chewed with obvious satisfaction.
    I realised I was staring, so I drank my tea – concentrating on the cup.
    ‘Ha,’ said Hugh once he’d finished chewing. ‘That wasn’t so difficult.’
    And then he fell asleep – his eyes closing and his chin dropping onto his chest. It was so fast I started out of my chair, but Mellissa waved me back down.
    ‘Now you’ve worn him out,’ she said and despite the heat she retrieved a tartan blanket from the back of her granddad’s chair and covered him up to his chin.
    ‘I think it must be obvious even to you that he didn’t have anything to do with those kids going missing,’ she said.
    I stood up.
    ‘Do you have something to do with it?’ I asked.
    She gave me a poisonous look and I got a flash of it then, sharp and incontrovertible, the click-click of legs and mandibles, the flicker of wings and the hot communal breath of the hive.
    ‘What would I want with children?’ she asked.
    ‘How should I know?’ I said. ‘Maybe you’re planning to sacrifice them at the next full moon.’
    Mellissa cocked her head to one side.
    ‘Are you trying to be funny?’ she asked.
    Anyone can do magic , I thought, but not everyone is magical. There are people who have been touched by, let’s call it for the sake of argument, magic to the point where they’re