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A WATERY GRAVE

 

Penny Kline

 

 

© Penny Kline 1995

Penny Kline has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

First published in 1995 by Hodder Children’s Books.

This edition published in 2018 by Lume Books.

 

 

For Sophie

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Chapter One

 

‘We’ve got this new interactive computer,’ said Simon. ‘I’m writing a programme so you can add your own material to the database and . . .’

Karen had stopped listening. The conversation at the other end of the table was far more interesting. Glen Fortune, who believed he was God’s gift to the world, was holding forth on girls who got themselves done up like dogs’ dinners then complained when blokes whistled at them or made a few suggestions.

Typical. Karen had heard it all before, more times than she could remember – but what had caught her attention was the mention of Natalie Stevens.

Everyone had heard of Natalie. What a way to make sure you went down in history! Have your body pulled out of a reservoir and become the major character in an unsolved crime.

It was six months since the murder had taken place, back in April. It happened round about the time Karen’s parents had finally split, and her mother had informed her that Alex would soon be moving in.

‘Well, hello there.’ Glen pretended to have spotted Karen for the first time. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Fine, thanks.’ Glen was in the same year as Simon. He had been Tessie’s boyfriend for nearly two years and they saw each other pretty well every day.

‘Thought your lot had General Studies,’ said Glen, running his fingers through his newly-bleached hair. ‘Skipping classes?’

‘Lost her timetable,’ said Simon. ‘Turned up at the wrong time in the wrong place.’

Karen glared at him, trying to convey with the sourness of her expression that if she wanted to provide Glen and his friends with an explanation as to why she had missed the class, she could do it herself. Not that it was any of their business.

Simon, who had been looking through the window at a group of kids fooling about on the grass, stood up and started moving towards the door. ‘Just going to make sure no-one’s mucking about with my computer,’ he said, pushing back the papers that were sliding out of Karen’s bag. ‘See you.’

Karen pushed back her chair but Glen signalled to her to stay put. ‘Listen,’ he said, lowering his voice to what he believed was a seductive whisper, ‘we’ve been talking about the Natalie Stevens case. Thought you might have a few ideas.’

‘What kind of ideas?’ Karen glanced at her watch, wondering if the class had finished and the rest of her year were getting ready to go for lunch. Her white plastic cup was still three-quarters full of something the machine called ‘hot chocolate’. It tasted disgusting.

‘Well,’ said Glen, dipping his finger in the cup, then wiping it on his jacket, ‘everyone knows who killed Natalie. Police included.’

‘Liam Pearce.’

‘Exactly. Took him in for questioning, then had to let him go. The guy’s a maniac, though I doubt if it was premeditated. Lost his temper, hit her too hard, then chucked her in the reservoir.’

‘You know him, do you?’ Karen’s voice was cooler than she had intended.

‘Know him?’ Glen slid onto the chair beside her. ‘No, of course I don’t know him. I’ve seen him down by the river, playing football on Sunday morning. Nasty beady eyes, wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.’

‘Lucky they can’t put you in prison just because of the way you look,’ said Karen, and the ugly guy sitting opposite Glen rocked his chair back, laughing, and nearly crashed to the floor.

Glen took no notice.

‘Natalie liked a good time,’ he said, still talking as though he had special inside information. ‘Didn’t want to settle down with Liam and the baby. Handed it over to Liam’s mother. Olive, she’s called. Great big woman with a foul temper.’ He grinned at Karen. ‘And if you’re thinking I’m making all this up you’re wrong. My mother helps out at a playgroup on the estate. That means she can keep us posted on all the latest developments.’

‘How nice for you.’

‘Yes, isn’t it. Anyway, the reason I thought you might know something – Natalie Stevens’ sister, Joanne, has a job at the Arts Centre now. Isn’t that where the bloke your Mum’s shacked up with works?’

*

On her way home Karen thought about calling in at Tessie’s, but lately they seemed to have drifted apart. Tessie was still stuck on settling down with Glen, even though Karen had warned her he would make her life a misery. Smooth-talking Glen was the kind of guy who would think nothing of propositioning one of the bridesmaids at his own wedding. Not that anyone had mentioned weddings but Karen knew what Tessie had in mind. A white dress, one of those stupid veils draped over her face, and a horrible pair of matching shoes that made her look taller than she actually was, although she would still be a couple of inches shorter than Karen.

As soon as Glen got his A-levels, and took up the post that was being kept open for him in his father’s electronics company, Tessie would start looking through the Flats to Let columns until she found a place where the two of them could set up home. What an idiot, but then some people seemed doomed to sign themselves up for a life-sentence. But, Karen, wouldn’t you love a place of your

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