DS Jessica Daniel series: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water – Books 4–6 (19 page)

Adrian tailed off, picking up his mug from the table. Jessica didn’t think he was looking for sympathy but she felt sorry for him nonetheless. From everything he said, he certainly had
been harshly treated. It was as if he sensed her thoughts. ‘It’s fine,’ he added. ‘I’m used to it all now. I don’t want to bore you with my moaning, I’d
rather you were out there looking.’

As he spoke Jessica heard the front door opening and a woman’s voice calling out, ‘Ade?’

‘Shit, that’s my mum,’ Adrian said. ‘You should probably leave.’ Jessica didn’t have time to ask him why before a woman burst into the living room with two
bags of shopping. She was short and overweight, with shoulder-length greying hair, and wearing a dress that looked more like a curtain than an item of clothing.

‘Are you coming to help me or not?’ she demanded before noticing Jessica. ‘Who are you?’

‘This is DS Daniel, she’s—’ Before Adrian could finish speaking, his mother cut him off.

‘And you let
her
in
here
?’ She turned from Adrian and looked at Jessica, her eyes dark and wide with anger. She didn’t look that much older than her son and
Jessica guessed she was a teenager when she’d had him. ‘Why aren’t you out there looking for my grandson instead of harassing my son? Why would he kidnap his own child? It’s
that bitch wife of his you should be going after.’

Jessica stood, knowing it was time to go. The woman wasn’t ready to stop as she continued shouting. ‘Yes, go on, get out. And don’t come back until you’ve got my grandson
with you.’

As she left the house, Jessica could hear Adrian trying to calm his mother. She wasn’t under an obligation to leave but seeing as the man wasn’t under suspicion and she had only
dropped around to reassure herself, Jessica knew there was no point in causing a scene. She walked along the pathway, passing a car which had the doors open and shopping bags on the seat, thinking
it seemed about right that Adrian’s mother did his shopping for him.

With everything that had happened over the past few days, Jessica was at a loss of what to do next. She unlocked her car and sat in the driver’s seat fiddling with her phone, scrolling up
and down the list of contacts, sometimes focusing on one and trying to remember the last time she had spoken to the person. As the list of names fizzed across the screen, one in particular settled
in the centre.

She stared at it, her heart beating quicker as she remembered what he meant to her. She didn’t know if it was fate or something she had done subconsciously but Jessica didn’t think
twice before pressing the call button next to Adam Compton’s name.

Of all the things Jessica regretted in her life, the way she had treated Adam Compton was top of the list. They had gone out for a while and got on really well. She was his
first proper girlfriend and he was one of the few people she could spend significant amounts of time with without wanting to cause them great harm.

A few years ago one of her friends had died but instead of using Adam as a shoulder to cry on, she had ignored him for weeks. If that wasn’t bad enough, she then took advantage of his
emotional attachment to her, asking him to do something illegal on her behalf. He had not got into any trouble but anything between them had been lost and aside from an unanswered text message she
had sent him, they’d had no contact since.

As the phone rang, Jessica wondered if he had changed his number. Perhaps he’d kept the same number but was refusing to answer because her name had appeared on his screen? Jessica took her
mobile away from her ear ready to press the button to end the call when she heard a voice. ‘Hello?’

‘Adam?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s Jessica.’

‘I know.’

There was an awkward silence as Jessica considered what to say. She had thought about making this call many times in the past but Adam made her promise never to contact him again. She was
breaking that and didn’t know why.

‘I . . . How are you?’ she stammered.

There was another pause and she was about to ask if he was still there when Adam answered. ‘Why are you calling me, Jess?’

She felt a shiver go down her spine from the way he had said her name. It had taken her long enough to convince him to call her ‘Jess’ instead of ‘Jessica’. From nowhere
there was a lump in her throat. She tried to speak but the words were stuck. She struggled to ask the question but swallowed hard before forcing the words out. ‘Can we meet?’

There was another pause, longer this time, but she could hear Adam breathing. Eventually he responded. ‘Where?’

‘The bar where we first went out? Next to the cinema in the centre?’

His reply was instant. ‘When?’

‘Now?’

‘Okay.’

Jessica took the phone away from her ear and saw the screen go black. She stared at it for a few moments, transfixed by the scrapes on the casing. It was as if someone else had made the call and
arranged the meeting. She had no idea why she had called him, let alone planned to meet. And why had she said she would meet him now, when she was supposed to be working on the case?

Adrian’s mother snapped her back to reality as Jessica saw a flash of movement ahead and peered up to see the woman standing next to the car with the open doors, pointing her finger
angrily in Jessica’s direction.

Jessica started the engine and pulled away, before stopping a few hundred metres down the street. With the speed and awkwardness of everything, she had arranged to meet Adam right away despite
being in Chorley and having a rush-hour motorway to negotiate. She picked her phone up from the passenger seat and sent him a text message apologising and saying she was in Lancashire for work but
that she would get there as soon as possible.

Jessica found being stuck in traffic jams frustrating enough at the best of times but when she actually had somewhere she wanted to be, it was excruciating. As the traffic crawled along the
carriageway, she stayed as close to the bumper of the car in front as she possibly could, making sure no one could cut in front of her but then, when she wanted to change lanes, angrily berated
anyone who wouldn’t slow down and let her in. She was fully aware her behaviour was irrational and inconsistent but she couldn’t care less.

The only amount of pleasure she took from the drive was when she was sitting in non-moving traffic and saw a man in the car in the next lane playing air-drums on his steering wheel. She
couldn’t hear whatever music he was listening to but when he spotted her watching him, he sheepishly looked away and stopped waving his arms.

With liberal use of her car horn, a questionable interpretation of the laws regarding traffic lights, at least three petrified cyclists, and a lot of swearing, Jessica eventually parked in a
space not far from the bar specifically marked for ‘permit holders only’. She figured that if anyone did clamp her car, she would show them her police identification and throw a few
baseless threats around.

Taking extra care on the paths which were beginning to frost over, Jessica walked the short distance and spotted Adam straight away. He still had shoulder-length black hair, neatly tucked away
from his face. He had let his stubble grow out and was sporting a dark clipped beard. He looked up as she entered, catching her gaze. His large brown eyes were darker than she remembered but he
looked smart in a pair of jeans, T-shirt and black blazer. He didn’t exactly smile but he didn’t look angry or upset either. As she strolled towards him, Jessica became self-conscious
about the black suit she was wearing. She had gone straight from the funeral to Rachel and then Adrian’s house without changing. She tried to think of something clever to say but the best she
could manage was a rather weak, ‘Do you want a drink?’

Adam pointed to the cappuccino in front of him. ‘I’m okay.’

Jessica tried to smile as she offered another feeble reply. ‘I’ll be right back.’

She went to the bar and ordered herself a soft drink, conscious of the fact she was driving. The bar wasn’t very busy, with a couple of sofas occupied, while some of the stools in the
front window had people on them. After being served, she returned to sit opposite Adam at the table. There were only two seats but the setting was more cosy than cramped. She could feel him
watching her as she placed her drink carefully on the table.

When she was in the chair, Jessica looked up to meet his eyes. ‘Hi.’

There was a half-smile on his face. ‘Hi.’

She held out her hand for him to shake. ‘I’m Jessica – but prefer to be called Jess by people I like.’

He shook her hand. ‘Hi, Jess, I’m Adam.’

Jessica continued to meet his eyes. ‘I’m sorry about this suit and everything, I’ve come from a funeral.’

Adam’s face broke into a bigger grin. ‘I figured it was either that or you’d become a grandma since I last knew you.’

Jessica laughed. ‘Oi, sod off, Mr “I look like a rock star with my long hair, retro T-shirt, designer stubble and jacket”.’

Adam laughed and finally broke eye contact. ‘It’s good to see you.’

From giggling, Jessica felt the lump in her throat again. She blinked quickly to avoid any tears seeping out. ‘I’m so sorry.
Please
forgive me.’

The words hung in the air. She couldn’t have added anything else even if she’d wanted to as she fought to stop herself from tearing up. Adam watched her. There was a long pause but
it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead they looked at each other and she told him with her eyes how sorry she was. He didn’t have to say anything verbally because his eyes replied,
‘Let’s forget it and start again.’

From nearly crying, Jessica burst out laughing. ‘Don’t turn around now otherwise it’ll be obvious but give it a few seconds, then look at the guy who just sat down on that
stool in the window behind you.’ Adam grinned, before dropping a napkin to the side of his chair, bending down to pick it up and looking directly behind him.

He turned back around and started laughing too. ‘What is he wearing on his head?’

‘I think it’s a cross between a tea cosy and a glove. It’s made of wool but it’s got those finger bits pointing upwards and it fits around his head.’

‘Why would you go out in public like that?’ Adam asked, smiling.

Jessica giggled. ‘I don’t know, why would you go out in public with black bum fluff stuck to your chin?’

Adam fingered his beard. ‘Oi, you’re one to talk, what’s with the grazes?’

She looked at her hands. ‘I fell over a kerb because it was frosty. I think you’re the only person in the city who doesn’t already know.’

There was another pause as they eyed each other. ‘I’ve been thinking about you,’ Adam said suddenly, blurting it out without thinking.

Jessica watched him but he didn’t try to take it back. ‘How come?’

‘Lots of reasons, Grandma, she died three months ago—’ Adam was still speaking but Jessica interrupted.

‘Pat? Oh God, I’m so sorry.’ The woman had brought him up as his parents both died when he was young. Despite being in his early thirties, Adam shared a house with her.

‘It’s okay, she didn’t suffer,’ Adam replied reassuringly. ‘She was ill for a while so in the end it was no surprise. She kept saying I should call you. I never
told her what happened but she’d mention it at least once every couple of weeks. She really took to you. She’d just casually drop it into conversation like, “I wonder what that
Jessica is up to nowadays?” and so on.’

Jessica couldn’t help but smile, though she felt awful about the time that had gone by. ‘She was pretty cool.’

Adam smiled. He seemed sad but not emotional. ‘You’re privileged, you know what she was like around other people – no social graces and all. The fact she actually liked someone
was different in itself. About a year ago, I’d taken her to this cafe in the city. There was a girl about twenty or so in there who had tattoos all the way up her arm. Nan started going on
wondering why people would spoil their bodies and so on. I was trying to keep her quiet and change the subject but she was having none of it. She was talking really loudly and just went, “I
don’t get it”, before starting all over again. In the end the poor girl left.’

‘What were the tattoos like?’

‘Oh, they were bloody awful but you don’t say that, do you? Especially not to a stranger.’

Jessica laughed. Even though she didn’t know the woman that well, she had seen just how little tact Adam’s grandmother had. It wasn’t necessarily deliberate but the woman had
been at the age where she had spent a life of biting her tongue and couldn’t be bothered any longer.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be there at the end,’ Jessica said.

Adam shrugged an acknowledgement. ‘How’s everything with you?’

‘Same as ever, really. Cases with no leads, bosses who don’t appreciate me, not enough money, too many takeaways, car falling apart.’

Adam was laughing. ‘Look at the state of us, we’re both in our thirties.’

It was something consistently in Jessica’s thoughts. ‘The problem with being thirty-odd is that you still feel eighteen,’ she said. ‘To anyone else, you’re that
sensible – or not – thirty-something who has got a proper job and responsibilities and so on but, in your head, you’re still just a crazy eighteen-year-old ready to take on the
world.’

Adam was nodding in agreement. ‘There was this new woman who started at work the other week. It was the week after her fortieth birthday. I caught myself looking at her and thinking,
“Oh, she’s only a few years older than me”, then I thought, “
Bloody hell, she’s only a few years older than me
”. It’s scary.’

‘You’re telling me. There’s this woman I work with, Izzy. She’s brilliant but she’s like a proper adult. We’re about the same age but she’s married with
a house and savings and a kid on the way. Meanwhile, I’m still slobbing around and living off takeaway curries. Do you remember Dave? We went to that pub quiz that time?’

‘The spiky-haired guy?’

‘Yeah, him. Even he’s got a proper girlfriend and is settling down now. I just can’t get over being halfway between thirty and forty. When you’re a kid, you look at your
parents and teachers and just assume they know what it’s like to be an adult. You think that when you get there, it’ll just come together. But it doesn’t, well, it hasn’t
for me anyway. Sometimes I feel like I’m still trying it on when I order a beer, as if I’m trying to get served when I’m underage.’