‘I hate my stupid life,’ Mathew told the tortoise.
Try not to get upset. The police said the glove prints around Jodie’s neck were too small to be yours, remember?
‘I don’t trust the police.’
And there wasn’t any of your DNA on the body.
‘Why can’t I remember what happened after Bentley threatened me?’
Because you went into the cave.
‘Do you remember me coming into the shed?’
No.
‘Did you see who put Jodie in the shed?’
I was asleep.
There was a gentle tap on the door, followed by his granddad peering around the corner. ‘Your mum’s here to see you, Mathew.’
He tapped his leg. ‘I’m not going home.’
‘She’s not here for that, lad.’
‘What does she want?’
‘I think it’s best if she tells you herself. Why don’t you come downstairs and see her? I’ve just made a nice pot of tea.’
Mathew wondered why his granddad always seemed to think a cup of tea was the answer to everything. World War Three. Don’t worry, I’ve made a nice pot of tea.
‘Nan’s bought some scones from Waitrose. And some proper strawberry jam.’
Mathew would have normally leapt off the bed and bounded downstairs before his granddad had finished the sentence. But he wasn’t hungry. Not even for something as nice as scones and strawberry jam.
‘You do love your mum, don’t you?’
What sort of question was that? He loved his mum more than anyone else in the world. ‘Yes.’
‘So, just give her a few minutes of your time. I promise she won’t take you home if you don’t want to go.’
Mathew reluctantly agreed and trundled downstairs still wrapped in his blue-and-green dressing gown.
His mother’s appearance shocked him. Her glasses magnified the bags beneath her eyes, and she was dressed in a loose-fitting red tee-shirt and black jogging bottoms instead of the usual smart clothes she wore at the bookshop.
‘Mum? What’s wrong?’
‘Sit down, Mathew.’
He folded himself into a chair at the kitchen table and stretched his legs underneath. ‘What’s happened?’
‘There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. The Book Café’s gone.’
Mathew tapped the table. ‘What do you mean, gone? Where?’
‘It’s been destroyed by a fire.’
He heard the words. Was dimly aware of his granddad sitting at the table with them. His nan flushing the toilet upstairs. But nothing made any sense. How could the bookshop be gone? It had fire alarms.
His mother rested a hand on his arm. ‘Mathew?’
‘But it can’t catch fire.’
‘The police think someone set it deliberately.’
Mathew thumped the table. The Book Café was his favourite place in the world. One of the few places he felt comfortable. Where no one poked fun at him. ‘But how?’
‘By pouring petrol through the letterbox and setting fire to it with a lighted rag,’ his granddad said.
‘How do they know that?’
‘Because the fire brigade have found evidence at the scene.’
‘What evidence?’
‘I don’t know, lad. We’ll have to wait and see what the report says.’
Mathew stopped tapping and glanced at his mother. ‘Are the books okay?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, love. Everything’s been destroyed.’
The tears in her eyes stung his heart. ‘But didn’t the firemen put the fire out?’
‘By the time they got there it was already burning out of control.’
‘When did it happen?’
‘In the early hours of the morning.’
‘Do you think someone did this to get back at me?’
Sonia looked away. ‘Who knows.’
‘What have the police said?’
‘That they’re treating it as arson.’
After a short silence, Mathew said, ‘I know who did it.’
‘Who?’
‘Jim Bentley. He killed Jodie and set fire to the shop.’
‘Well, if he did,’ Bernard said, ‘he’ll get what’s coming to him.’
Mathew tapped the table again. ‘I hate him. He’s a bad man. And a drug dealer.’
‘It could’ve just been a random act of vandalism,’ Bernard said. ‘I don’t think it’s wise to jump to conclusions about who might be responsible.’
‘I still think we should tell the police about him.’
‘I’m sure the police are well aware of Jim Bentley,’ Sonia said. ‘Like Granddad says, he’ll get what’s coming to him.’
‘When are you going to open the Book Café again?’ Mathew asked.
‘I don’t think we’ll be able to. It’ll cost a fortune to replace all the books and get all the damage repaired.’
‘I thought the insurance company paid for all that stuff.’
‘Not all of it. Anyway, I don’t think I’ve got the energy to start over again. I just want to move out of Feelham and never come back.’
‘That’s because it’s still raw,’ Bernard said. ‘Give it time before you make any big decisions.’
Sonia sighed. ‘The way I’m feeling, I don’t even want to go back to Bluebell Cottage.’
‘Me neither,’ Mathew said. ‘What if someone sets fire to that as well?’
‘You’re more than welcome to stay here, Sonia,’ Bernard offered.
‘We should’ve moved out of that house years ago, Sonia said. ‘It’s as if the bloody place is cursed.’
It shocked Mathew to hear his mother swear. She had what Gareth called a sterile tongue. ‘I’d like you to stay here with us, too, Mum.’
‘I don’t know. There’s so much to do. So much up in the air. I can’t even think straight.’
‘Why don’t we go down to the caravan for a while?’ Bernard suggested. ‘Get away from all the mayhem.’
Pam Halsey walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. ‘Bournemouth beach is packed in the summer. Sardines have got more room in a bloody tin.’
‘There’s more than just the beach to enjoy,’ Bernard said. ‘There are the Winter Gardens. The aquarium. Not to mention all the shows they put on at this time of year.’
‘I don’t fancy watching a load of second-rate celebrities masquerading as talent, thank you very much. I think we’ve got far too much to do here, without running off to the seaside to play happy families. Anyway, Sonia needs to be here for the investigation.’
‘Mum’s right,’ Sonia agreed. ‘I need to be around to sign things and talk to the police.’
Bernard held up his hands. ‘Okay, it was only a suggestion. You do what you think’s best. I’m only trying to help.’
‘I know, Dad. And I’m grateful.’
‘So, what do you want to do, love?’ Bernard asked. ‘Stay with us or tough it out at home?’
‘I think I’ll stay with you for a while. Just until I can get my head straight.’