Gardners, Ditchers, and Gravemakers (A DCI Thatcher Yorkshire Crimes Book 4) by Oliver Davies (best black authors txt) 📗

“Good morning, Miss Whelan. Hello, Grace!” the chirpy teacher greeted them as they walked in. “Love the boots, Grace!” They were cool, Abbie had to admit. If you could get wellies for grown-ups that had yellow polka dots on them, she’d have a pair of them herself.

“Hi, Miss Brown. Good to see you,” Abbie told her, bending down to pull Grace’s coat off and hang it on her peg. Grace skipped away to a table, picking up a crayon, and Abbie smiled.

“Wellies again?” Miss Brown asked humouredly.

“Can’t get her out of them,” Abbie laughed, “but I suppose it’s better than a bumblebee costume. At least they’re practical.”

“That’s true. My sister’s boy wore a Spiderman outfit once for almost two months straight.”

Abbie whistled. “I’ll take wellies and stripey tights over that any day. Holly is picking her up today, by the way,” she added, and the teacher’s face became serious.

“No problem. I remember her. Working this morning?”

“Annoyingly. Something to finish up before I’m off for a few weeks with that little monster,” she said with a smile in Grace’s direction.

“At least once it’s done, it’s done,” Miss Brown offered.

“Very true. Bye, Grace!” Abbie called.

Grace turned around and ran back over, almost tripping over her feet but made to Abbie and wrapped her arms around her waist. Abbie pressed a kiss to her head and sent her back inside.

“See you at lunchtime!” she called into the room. “Thanks, Miss Brown. I’ll see you in September.”

“Take care, Miss Whelan.”

Abbie looked back at Grace once more, making sure she had everything she needed in her bag, and left the school, waving to a few familiar parents before jogging to the car. She wouldn’t be late, and Sean wasn’t expecting her to be there at any given time anyway, but the sooner she was done, the sooner she and Grace could go home.

Driving away from the city, Abbie sang along to the radio, looking out at the clear, bright morning with a smile. She’d thought about moving out here from time to time, in a nice house surrounded by the hills and fields, where Grace could run around happily. Maybe somewhere with a tree for a swing and a sweet local village. Maybe Paige could even come with them for a while. Abbie had looked at some houses on a few real estate websites, but they were all rather large, too big for just the two of them, and far from her budget. Plus, as Paige liked to remind her, the city was more convent. Though convenient for what, since Abbie worked out here, she wasn’t sure about. Convenient for a slightly tipsy twenty-five-year-old to pitch up at her big sister’s house after a long night in the pub and sleep there for a few days with a four-year-old brushing her hair and playing dolls.

With a sigh, Abbie couldn’t put too much hope in it. But as she drove away from the busy streets, out into the wild, rocky hills, she couldn’t help but feel lighter. One day, perhaps, if they got better funding after this research project was done. Sean reckoned they’d be set up for good if this went well.

When she reached the gardens, parking on the muddy slope, there was only one other car here, the rear peppered with stickers for garden charities and the RSPCA. Sean, Abbie smiled and swung her keys around her hand as she headed to the lovely old house. The wisteria needed sorting, she noted, pushing the front door open and walking inside. Sean was huddled in the office in one of his large green fleeces, a mug of tea by his elbow as he glared at the computer screen, the loud humming of the machine grating Abbie’s ears.

“Morning,” Abbie greeted him as she walked in, carefully unloading her things onto the other desk.

“Morning, Abbie.”

“How’re things?” she asked, taking in his scowl. “I’m telling you to get a new computer, Sean.” She peeled off her coat and hung it on her hook, taking the lab coat down and pulling that one over her dress.

“It’s not that.” He shook his head, still not looking up at her.

“What is it then?” she asked, concerned.

Sean wasn’t one to worry, not really. If something was wrong, then it never sat well with Abbie either. He looked up, at last, his friendly, tired face drawn with tiredness, but he gave her a bright smile.

“Nothing for you to worry about. No Grace?” he asked, looking around hopefully.

Abbie grinned, buttoning up her coat. Sean was not one for a family himself but watching him with Grace always warmed her heart. He was a good uncle of sorts, and she was glad for Grace to have a male figure in her life even if he did smell of Olbas oil and had a better fitting pair of glasses.

“Art club. Holly will drop her off in a few hours. I should be done then,” she said, making sure she had all of her equipment.

“No bother if not,” Sean assured her. “I can always go worm hunting with her if need be.”

Abbie grinned. “Good to know. I appreciate it, Sean. Right, I’m off.”

“Get yourself a brew before you go out there,” Sean told her. “It’s cold down there still. Sun hasn’t come up enough.”

The one downside to the hills and valleys they worked in.

“Ta, Sean. See you later,” Abbie said with a light wave. She fetched herself a tea, anyway. The one she had this morning was lukewarm by the time she actually got to drink it, thanks to Grace managing to spill orange juice all down herself and needing a change of clothes.

Mug in hand and her worn leather bag over one shoulder, Abbie stuffed her feet in her heavy shoes and strode out into the gardens.

She loved being out there at this time of day, with the low sunlight just breaking through the trees, drops of dew still clinging to the plants and the air. Her feet crunched over the gravel as she made