Flesh and Blood (A DI Amy Winter Thriller) by Caroline Mitchell (best love novels of all time .TXT) 📗

‘Forgiven,’ Donovan said, knowing the root of her frustrations was more likely to do with her mother than the man lying in the morgue.

‘Come to bed,’ she said, her fingers finding the belt on his robe.

‘Wait . . .’ Donovan clasped her hands in his own. ‘I want to talk.’

‘Later,’ Amy murmured, pressing butterfly kisses on his bare chest.

Donovan’s sigh was not one of pleasure as he drew away. ‘Is that all I am to you? Some medicinal sex?’

‘Most blokes would be delighted.’ Amy’s smile faded as she took in his expression. ‘What’s wrong?’

Donovan struggled to express his feelings, but this was important. ‘This thing with Lillian . . . you need to face it head on.’

‘I don’t want to see her,’ Amy said, drawing away.

‘I get that. But if she’s dying then isn’t it better to get some closure?’

‘Closure for what? My childhood memories are unreliable. I don’t know who that woman is any more.’ Her expression tightened, the subject of Lillian invoking coldness behind her eyes.

Donovan knew Amy’s childhood memory was a sore subject after her humiliating stand in the witness box when she gave evidence against her mother. ‘The mind is wider than the sky.’ He placed his hands on her shoulders as he quoted a line from a poem that had stuck in his head since school. ‘It’s different when it comes to trauma. Your memories are valid.’

‘So, you’re a psychologist now?’

‘No, but I know about regret. I parted with my parents on the worst terms. I never got to say goodbye.’ Sadness bloomed inside him. He opened his mouth to continue but no words came.

This was something he hadn’t shared with anyone. Perhaps it wasn’t as sensational as Amy’s childhood, but it was enough to cause pain.

‘Tell me about your parents,’ Amy said, her voice softening.

Donovan stared out the window. ‘They owned a little cafe in Southend. It was a real hub of the community – Nancy’s cafe. I grew up working behind the counter.’ He smiled as the memory returned. ‘I used to be a shy kid in school but working there brought me out of my shell. Some of my best memories are of working in that little cafe. Some couples just can’t work together, can they? But my parents couldn’t bear to spend time apart.’

‘Sounds idyllic,’ Amy said.

Donovan closed the blinds before turning away from the window. The streets were too similar to the ones he grew up in. ‘It was,’ he continued. ‘Until I got in with a bad crowd. When I was sixteen, I was desperate to impress. My so-called friends used to take the piss out of me for working in the cafe. I left and got a job on the pier instead, ferrying kids on and off the rides. Mum was disappointed. I think she wanted me to take over from them one day.’

Donovan recalled chatting to customers and serving endless cups of tea. He crossed the room and sat next to Amy on the bed.

‘It was a lucrative little business,’ he said wistfully. ‘But I was restless, and desperate to leave Southend. God, I was a right pain in the arse as a teenager. I was so wrapped up in myself.’

‘Isn’t that a rite of passage?’ Amy squeezed his hand. ‘I don’t suppose your daughter was any different.’

‘She’s never been in trouble with the police.’ Donovan gave her a wry grin. ‘I’ll never forget how ashamed Mum was when they came to her door. I caused her nothing but grief.’

‘But she must have been proud of you when you joined the police,’ Amy said softly.

Donovan cleared his throat. ‘She would have been if she’d been there to see it.’

Amy cupped his hand. ‘I’m sure she was in spirit.’

‘I moved to Colchester when I was eighteen.’ Donovan stared at the carpeted floor. ‘I didn’t know about the developers who wanted to build a block of flats. Nancy’s cafe was the only thing standing in their way. They made my parents’ life hell in an effort to drive them out.’

‘How?’ Amy asked. It would not be the first time such underhand tactics were used in circumstances like these.

‘They were burgled a couple of times, had their windows smashed. The stress of it made them both ill. They refused deal after deal from the developer, so the pressure kept being piled on.’

‘Couldn’t the police help?’ Amy’s hand tightened over his own.

‘How? There was no proof.’ Donovan shook his head. ‘Bastards . . . If I could get a hold of them now.’

‘Oh, Donovan, I’m so sorry. What happened in the end? Did they sell?’

His sigh was deep and heavy. ‘Dad stopped speaking to me after Mum died of a stroke. He was too wrapped up in his grief. It was only after he died that I found out what was going on.’ He met her gaze. ‘I should have protected them.’

‘Your parents didn’t tell you for a reason. They were trying to protect you.’

‘From what?’ Donovan said.

‘From this. They were good people. OK, I didn’t know them, but from what you’ve said they were. And they wouldn’t want you carrying around this guilt.’ Amy tilted her head to catch his gaze. He saw understanding in her eyes. You didn’t need a tragic childhood to be crippled beneath a lifetime of guilt. They were both adrift in choppy waters, bobbing about in hostile seas.

‘What?’ Donovan said, monitoring Amy’s face as she gave him a wry smile.

‘I was just thinking, it doesn’t matter how good or bad your parents are, they can still fuck you up.’

‘That’s the quote of the day.’ Donovan returned her grin. ‘Remember the first time we met? When I turned up to help you escort Lillian to those graves?’

‘How could I forget?’ Amy said, a twinkle in her eyes. ‘The first time you touched me was to stop me punching her in the face.’

‘We all wanted a pop at her that day.’ Donovan laughed. ‘I was more concerned about you keeping your job. It’s mad, isn’t it? How things turned out.’ At