That dog really was getting away with too much. Sleeping on Poppy’s bed with Evie only yards away across the landing might even be too risky. But Mark seemed to have this hare-brained idea that Hercules would protect her if they were broken into. The only chance of that would be if the dog licked a burglar to death.
Honestly, if Mark was going to allow her the run of the house the least he could do was train her. If he couldn’t do that, then he should think about rehoming her. Jade had rehomed her cat quickly enough, after all, she thought crossly, retrieving the cup from the floor and finding it was cracked. Muttering, Mel crashed the cup back on to the tray – and then stopped, and breathed, realising her anger was escalating. It was a cup. Not even an expensive cup. God, was she really getting things so out of proportion, again, that she was contemplating letting Hercules go to complete strangers?
She thought of the ease with which Jade had got rid of her cat. Mel still couldn’t help wondering how the animal had disappeared so quickly. Surely she wouldn’t have had the poor thing put down? No, she said friends had taken it.
Feeling more guilty than ever that she’d considered Jade capable of having the cat disposed of in such a way despite her determination to give that particular emotion short shrift, Mel turned to mop up the tray, only to realise the capsule she should have taken was soggy with tea, its powdered contents spewing out.
On the bright side, at least Hercules hadn’t swallowed it. Despairing of herself, Mel shifted the tray out of the way and set about taking her frustration out on her lump of clay. She’d take another tablet when she went in to make dinner, which hopefully wouldn’t turn out to be as disastrous as everything else she attempted to do.
Thirty-Nine
JADE
Oh, you have to be joking! Jade stopped short of the cottage, realising that Dylan’s mother really was talking to the pigs. And not just in a ‘Who’s a pretty porkie?’ sort of way either. She was having a whole fucking conversation with them. Obviously, she was as soft in the head as her drippy son was.
‘Careless farming they said it was, Inky,’ the woman was saying mournfully. ‘Said we’d managed our farm in a way that encouraged floods. I’ve never heard the likes. Killed my Charlie, they did, worked him to death, with their rules and regulations. Left me with nothing. Except our Dylan, of course.’
Sighing forlornly, the woman stopped and gazed off over the fields. Probably contemplating suicide, Jade thought despairingly, if Dylan was all she’d got.
‘I’ll be glad to see the back of the place,’ the woman went on, bending to pick up a metal bucket full of foul-smelling swill to chuck to the beasts.
Ugh, disgusting. Jade screwed up her nose. It was probably the leftovers of the piglets they’d given birth to. Where the hell was Dylan? Realising there was no sign of the man – who was obviously more moronic than she’d suspected, allowing his mother to wander around with the girl not thirty feet away – she stepped quickly forwards. The woman hadn’t got a key, but God forbid she got it into her head to go peering through the windows.
‘Morning, Mrs Jackson,’ Jade said brightly, at which the woman jumped, literally, and whirled around, dropping her bucket in the process.
‘Is Dylan here?’ Jade asked, wearing her sweetest smile.
A hand clutched to her ample chest, Mrs Jackson took several slow breaths and then narrowed her eyes. ‘Why?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘I thought I’d ask him if he fancied going into the village,’ Jade improvised. She wouldn’t be seen dead with him in the village, or anywhere else for that matter.
‘Why?’ the woman repeated.
‘Because we’re friends, Mrs Jackson,’ Jade said patiently.
Mrs Jackson folded her arms and cocked her head to one side. ‘Right. And my Inky’s priming his wings as we speak,’ she said, attempting to be clever, which really didn’t suit someone dressed in crap-covered dungarees and whose personal hygiene was obviously on a par with her son’s. Mind you, Jade could understand her cynicism. Dylan, who only ever attracted the wrong sort of attention, had about as many friends as he had brain cells.
‘He looks out for me, Mrs Jackson,’ Jade explained, less patiently. Evie was asleep in the car. The window was open, so she’d hear her if she cried, but even so, she hadn’t got all bloody day. ‘I feel safe with him when other idiots come sniffing around.’
Mrs Jackson arched an eyebrow at that, obviously trying to work out whether Jade was being sincere.
‘Is he home?’ Jade asked again, growing perturbed now. Surely Dylan hadn’t actually gone off the premises and left the girl on her own?
‘He’s fixing the barn roof,’ the woman said, turning disinterestedly away.
Jade stared at the rude bitch’s back. And then – oh fuck – past her to a movement at the cottage’s upstairs window. The girl was walking around. If she looked out of the window, the woman was bound to spot her.
* * *
Irritated, having been delayed while she took necessary action to ensure Mrs Jackson didn’t discover the girl, Jade parked outside the pub and texted Dylan back. He was worried, because his mother had apparently gone out without telling him. Definitely tied to her apron strings. Jade shook her head despairingly.
She obviously couldn’t find you. She’s probably visiting friends, or gone shopping or something. Bit tied up with children today. See you tomorrow first thing.
She would have to be there early, she decided. She couldn’t have him throwing a wobbly now. She needed him. As well as helping her move the girl, she had other plans that required Dylan’s participation. He was tall and dark, and therefore easily mistaken for Mark at the wheel of Mel’s car. He was going to need careful handling, though, with lots of physical and emotional reassurance.
One eye on the entrance to the pub, she waited patiently for her phone to ping back a reply and then breathed out a sigh of relief when it did.
Okay. C U then. Xxx
Rolling her eyes at his use of abbreviated text words, and fully expecting him to text again before the day was out, Jade sent him a smiley face back, with three reciprocal kisses, and then emitted a sigh of relief as DS Cummings exited the pub, bang on cue. Having googled his details and then followed him, she’d learned he liked a pint with his lunch, and one or two once he was off duty. He was also obviously everything she’d overheard Mark confiding to Melissa he was – a womanising, sexist wanker, led by his penis, which, Jade suspected, would make him just as malleable as Dylan.
Waiting for the right moment, Jade watched him pause in the car park, picking his teeth and leering after two scantily clad girls half his age as they teetered on vertiginous shoes towards their car. ‘Hope you’ve been watching your alcohol intake, Taylor,’ he called after them. ‘Wouldn’t want me having to arrest you now, would you?’
‘Depends…’ said one of the girls, smiling coquettishly back over her shoulder.
Yeah, depends on how much he’s paying. Jade curled a lip and sighed inwardly, supposing it was time to flash her own assets in his direction. Clearly the man couldn’t resist a pair of tits. Glancing over her shoulder to check on Evie, who was soundly sleeping, bless her, Jade adjusted her plunge bra and tugged down her strappy top to show off maximum cleavage, and then climbed out of her car. Her phone clutched to her ear, she swept her hair from her face and stared down at her flat tyre, looking suitably flustered. And then, bending from the waist, she leaned to examine it. As she was wearing her tightest skinny jeans, she guessed he’d be enjoying the view.
‘An hour?’ she said despairingly, talking to no one into her mobile. ‘No, it’s just that I have a baby in the car and I have to get her back to her parents. Yes. Okay, I’ll wait. No choice really, have I?’
Sensing a certain someone approaching, Jade sighed and ended her ‘call’.