Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5) by David Gatward (english reading book TXT) 📗

in. Seeing the gap, and the thick shadows which hung inside it like vast blankets of darkness on an invisible washing line, she thought back to what her dad had said, about the ghost that had caused the then owners, many, many years ago now, to have that section pulled down, turning a once-grand place into the two houses it was today. True or not, the tale of death breaking a home quite literally in two, spoke to her in that moment. And as she stared up at that empty, gloom-filled space, her own brokenness came at her in the shape of a million memories of her mother.

Her tears flowed then, even though she was sure she had no more to cry, and she let them fall, wrapping herself up in a blanket of sorrow, wishing, like her father, that the ghost of her mother would come to her and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

Chapter Five

Back outside, Harry breathed in the day good and deep. The rain had subsided and the air was now somehow even more alive than ever. He thought back to Bristol, how the air there had its own distinctiveness; a city it was, but London it most definitely wasn’t. His memory brought back the air of the place, rich in a way that was filled with scents and tastes designed to make you want to stop and eat. Cafes and bars and restaurants sent out inviting aromas to dance together along the streets, twisting themselves around passers-by, tempting them to stop, to sit, to feast. And rather too often, Harry recalled, he had done exactly that.

Dales’ air, though, well that was another thing entirely. Yes, there was a clear and present danger of walking through Hawes marketplace to trip up on thin tendrils of taste drifting from cafes and bakeries. And Harry had succumbed often. However, it was what came blowing off the hills that now had him, and he paused just for a moment to enjoy it, as it whipped around him as cool as the water of a lagoon in deep shade, and heady with scents of grass and fern and herb.

‘You alright, Boss?’

Harry saw Jadyn staring at him from over where Matt had parked the car, though ‘parked’ was probably far too polite a way to describe how the detective sergeant had skidded the thing to a halt in a spray of grit and water.

‘And why wouldn’t I be?’ Harry asked.

‘Well, you look . . .’ Jadyn began, but then he paused.

‘I look what?’

‘It’s nothing,’ Jadyn said, then held up the PPE from the car. ‘Shall we go?’

‘We will,’ Harry said, ‘but first, you’ll finish what you were going to say.’

‘Relaxed,’ Jadyn said, suddenly blurting the word out. ‘Peaceful, even. And you don’t usually look like that. Not ever, if I’m honest, almost like you can’t, I mean—’

Harry watched with amusement as Jadyn’s eyes grew wide with horror at his own words.

‘No, I mean, you look fine,’ Jadyn said. ‘I didn’t mean like the, you know, the scarring was . . . oh, crap . . .’

Harry smiled. ‘There’s a shovel over there against that wall if you want to try and dig yourself a bigger hole.’

‘Sorry, Boss,’ Jadyn said, walking over to Harry. ‘Didn’t mean to sound like such a pillock.’

Harry took the PPE Jadyn had in his hand.

‘Can’t see that there’s anything to apologise for,’ Harry said. ‘A face like mine could curdle milk, I reckon.’

Jadyn laughed then.

‘Yeah, you’re not wrong!’ he said, then once again the horror came back into his eyes. ‘Oh, God, sorry, Boss, I don’t know what’s wrong with me! My mouth just runs away with itself sometimes, and then my feet catch up and throw themselves in there good and proper. I’m sorry.’

Harry stared at the police constable just long enough, then winked. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s have a look around.’

As they made to head off, the sound of an approaching car had them pause. Harry turned back to the entrance to see a smart looking metallic blue BMW pull in.

‘Who’s this, then?’ Jadyn said.

The car stilled, fell quiet, and from the driver’s side emerged a young man, around the same age as Jim, Harry guessed, dressed smart casual, more town than country, sunglasses on as well, regardless of the fact that summer was all but a distant memory. He had a cigarette lit and in his mouth.

‘Is Jim in?’ the young man called over, removing the cigarette then dropping it to the ground and grinding it into the dirt.

‘And you are?’ Harry asked, walking forwards to put himself between this new arrival and Jim’s house.

‘Hoggy,’ the young man said. ‘Neil Hogg, Jim’s mate. Is he in? He texted earlier, told me what had happened, and I came over as soon as I could.’

It took a moment for Harry to realise who he was talking to.

‘Oh, right, you’re who he was out with last night, right? Old school friend, yes?’

‘That’s me,’ Neil said, reaching a hand out to Harry as the back door opened and Jim appeared.

‘Now then, Hoggy,’ Jim said, calling over. ‘You didn’t have to bother coming over, you know.’

‘Yes I did,’ Neil replied. ‘I know there’s nowt I can do, but still, I felt that I’d best come over, just in case.’

Harry watched Neil walk over to Jim and give the PCSO a manly hug, then they both headed into the house. That done, Harry turned back to Jadyn.

‘Right, where were we, then?’ he asked.

‘About to have a look around the farm I think,’ Jadyn said.

Harry walked away from the house, on the way stopping to pick up the cigarette stub left by Jim’s friend, Neil. It wasn’t something he’d usually do, go around cleaning up after others, it had just struck him as a little disrespectful.

Just as Harry had expected on seeing the farm when they’d driven in, and on having been inside the house, the yard and its buildings was a place of careful order.