The Jade Garden (The Barrington Patch Book 2) by Emmy Ellis (reading diary txt) 📗

rear of the property. The scent of Persil and whatnot was ingrained in the walls, which beat some of the household smells she’d encountered when visiting all the residents. Cabbage and bacon had been the order of the day there, and lots of stews.

Helen plopped onto the brown leather sofa, unfazed by the look of her, mainly grumpy, probably from Cassie’s treatment. Either she was good at hiding her involvement or she was innocent. Cassie would soon find out. Helen lit a cigarette and inhaled so deeply she coughed. She took a sip of clear liquid in a glass on a nearby end table—voddy, most likely. The woman was so casual about it, Cassie reckoned this visit was a waste of time.

But she’d have to go through with it all the same.

“Did anyone, specifically your nephew, Brett, pay you a visit recently about turning a blind eye tonight?” It was past midnight so technically a new day, but Helen probably hadn’t noticed the time, considering she’d been on the sauce.

If that was lemonade, Cassie would eat her hat.

“I haven’t seen Brett for about a month. And I know it was a month because he tapped me for a tenner—on my birthday, the cheeky sod.” Helen sucked on her fag again, gentler this time. “He’s been scarce around here even before that. I thought I’d done something wrong to be honest, but he’s not a kid anymore and doesn’t need his aunt wiping his arse for him.” She folded her arms over her flat belly, the glowing end of her cigarette precariously close to a pink throw cushion. “He only ever comes when he wants money, fags, or booze anyroad, so I took it he was all right in that department. His mother would turn in her grave, the state he’s turned into.”

Cassie laughed, and it sounded cruel. Scathing. “And your mother wouldn’t with the likes of you?” She indicated the booze and cigarette.

Helen snorted and stared at the fireplace, continuing to smoke as though Cassie didn’t bother her in the slightest. “Whatever. So what’s Brett done if you’re here asking about him? Got to be something bad if it’s you. I read about your weapon, you know, in The Life. Got it hidden somewhere, have you, ready to whip it out and slash my face up?”

Cassie wasn’t about to answer that and opted for a lie instead. “He’s done a runner, owing Mam a month’s rent. Last week, he said he was pissing off to Yorkshire tonight and he’d drop the cash round, but word on the street is, he was here earlier, stopping people from going into the Jade for some reason. Chatting them up, like, being annoying.” The lie might trip Helen up.

The woman shrugged, flicked some ash onto a side plate with what appeared to be toast crumbs all over it, then fixed her gaze on Cassie. “Like I said, he hasn’t been round for ages.”

I believe her. She’s too relaxed, like Jimmy was. “Fine.”

Helen stubbed her cigarette out with half still to go. “Does Geoff know he’s buggered off?”

“No idea.” Now to cement the moving-away story. “If you see him or he contacts you, get his new address off him and give it to me. I’ll pay him a personal visit at his new place, no matter the travel time, and remind him he needs to pay Mam what he owes. If he gets hold of you and you don’t tell me, I’ll find out, then you’ll have to pay what he owes for lying to me.”

Helen straightened. “That’s not fair. What Brett does isn’t my fault.”

“It’s just insurance so you do pass any info on.” Cassie shrugged. “So, did you see owt weird going on out the front this evening?”

“Nope. I had dry-cleaning to get done, so I was in the back room.” Helen’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by weird? Has it got something to do with Jiang?”

Cassie’s stomach clenched. “What about Jiang?”

“Him flying to China.” She wafted a hand at The Barrington Life propped up on the mantel behind a wooden candlestick. A fat church candle topped it, wax dribbles hardened on the outside, the wick black and curved from use. “That came through the laundrette letterbox earlier.”

“No, it’s nowt to do with Jiang, just that some kids were fucking about apparently, and I want to know what they were up to, same with why Brett was bothering people.”

“What kids? Those two lads larking around by the lamppost?”

Jason coughed and dipped his head.

“Who were they?” Cassie asked.

“One of them was that hairdresser’s kid, I know that much. The other one? Fuck knows.”

“Which hairdresser?” Cassie’s patience was on the road to becoming so thin it snapped.

Helen sighed. “The one up by The Donny. Cheryl someone or other.”

My stylist. “Was it now. What were they doing by the lamppost?”

“Like I said, larking about, shouting at people until they walked away.”

“Did you hear what was said?”

Helen laughed, her head tilted back, an alarming amount of silver fillings caked into her top back teeth. “Have you ever been in that bloody laundrette when the machines are on? No, I heard nowt.”

“Did you get any customers in?”

“Yeah, some dropped off service washes about six, but now you’re asking, there was a lull for a couple of hours where no one came in.”

Jason’s earlier theory was spot-on. Those kids had warned folks to stay away. This meant Cassie would also have to speak to the lady who ran The Pudding, ask her if she’d clocked the pair dicking about. It could wait until morning, though. Then, when she went to have that wave put in her hair, she’d question Cheryl.

A strange clatter came from the back yard, the same as when they’d vaulted over the fence. The thud of the downstairs door whacking against the wall