The Blissfully Dead

‘Ah, this must be the beautiful Bo

‘Please don’t, she’s almost asleep!’

Bo

Carmella shook hands with her. She couldn’t help feeling chastened, as if she’d committed a huge faux pas, which then made her a

‘Pat, will you sort out drinks while I get Miss B down for the night? I won’t be long; she’s pretty much out for the count already.’

Simon stood up and stuck out his hand. He was shorter than his wife by about three inches, with a receding hairline and very slightly bulging eyes, but in possession of the sort of charisma that meant it was possible to overlook the physical flaws. ‘Hi! I’m Simon Laughland. Where have you two come from tonight?’

Several minutes of awkward small talk ensued, about where they all lived, and what Patrick had got for his birthday – Gill had bought him tickets for The Cure in March, which impressed Carmella. She was finding it hard to tear her gaze away from Suza

Patrick handed around a tray of something sparkling. ‘Well, it is my birthday,’ he commented, slightly sheepishly. ‘The missus insisted. I’m sure a little sip or two is allowed . . .’ He looked at Suza

‘Of course!’ she said, raising her glass. ‘To Pat! Happy birthday.’

Carmella noticed that Suza

After that, the evening progressed in the way of most di

‘So,’ she said in Suza

Carmella frowned warningly at her. An expression flashed across Gill’s face that suggested perhaps she thought Je

‘She’s not kidding. It’s your favourite sort of food, isn’t it, darling?’ Carmella added hastily. ‘Prawn cocktail, Black Forest gateau, gammon and pineapple – you’re a seventies throwback.’

‘Are you any closer to finding who killed those girls?’ Je

‘We’re working flat out,’ Patrick said – defensively, Carmella thought – from across the kitchen, where he was carving slices from a fragrant garlic-studded leg of lamb. ‘What do you teach, Je

‘Geography – and I’m deputy head too. So, any new leads? Carmella won’t tell me anything!’

‘Oh I know,’ Gill interjected. ‘I’m always badgering Pat to dish the dirt and he never does!’

Carmella made a face at Patrick and he gri

There was a shocked silence round the table. Gill, who had been in the middle of handing around plates of meat, froze briefly and the smile fell off her face.

‘It’s just a figure of speech,’ she said, her voice brittle.

‘Of course!’ Patrick jumped to his feet and helped her pass a plate to Simon. Carmella noticed him take his e-cigarette from his shirt pocket and heave a long, desperate drag into his lungs when he turned away to fetch another serving spoon from the cutlery drawer. There was a prickly feeling in the air, like pre-storm static electricity, and her scar started itching again in recognition of it.

Suza

Je

Carmella felt like sinking her head into her hands. She waited for Suza

‘Pat never talks to me,’ said Gill, overly brightly, dishing up a bowl of steaming peas. She somehow managed to make it sound simultaneously like a compliment and an accusation.

As they ate, Simon and Patrick engaging in a desultory discussion about Brighton and Hove Albion’s surprisingly good recent form, someone’s mobile began to buzz, just audible over the sound of scraping cutlery and the bass thumping through the walls.

They all looked around at each other.

‘Whose is that?’ Suza

The women delved into handbags and Patrick slipped his hand into his back pocket.

‘It’s mine,’ he said, extracting it and frowning at the screen. ‘Sorry, it’s the station, need to take it.’

He stood up and walked a little way away over to the French windows where he leaned against the glass, his back to them all.

‘Le

Carmella watched him intently, her glass halfway to her lips. She suddenly had a horrible premonition – as her gra

‘What is it?’ Her voice came out in a croak of alarm and everyone fell silent.

‘Right. Thanks for letting me know,’ he said faintly into the phone, clearly dazed. His hand dropped down by his side and when he turned back to the room, his face was chalky white.

‘Oh God,’ Suza

Patrick couldn’t speak. Carmella had never seen him looking so shocked. ‘Pat?’

He sank down onto the sofa as though his legs couldn’t hold him. Gill rushed over to sit by him, sliding a protective arm around his waist, but he then immediately stood up again and Gill looked crushed.

‘We have to go,’ he said to Suza

‘Patrick, tell me now,’ Suza

When they came, they were far worse than she could have imagined.