DOVETAIL DIARIES ✔

Chapter Twenty Four

I’ve read all the beginning now about how the couple died and how shocked all the guests were, how they were all kept inside the house and no one was allowed to leave. The detective is on the scene and he’s prowling around, pretending to be nice to everyone but really he’s trying to find out who his biggest suspects are.

I’m taking great notice of what he is doing. In the last chapter he did this whole thing with his assistant where he goes through each suspect and sees why they might want the couple dead. He keeps saying, there’s always a reason, there’s always a reason.

I couldn’t help wondering, what if there isn’t a reason? What if it is just a senseless act of violence, out of nowhere, because the world is just that cruel?

The detective in the story is making progress and he is starting to uncover more and more about the couple and the people staying at the house. For instance, the couple just lost a baby. The woman was pregnant a few weeks before she went to the house and she had a miscarriage. The detective thinks this is somehow linked. I can’t see how but he thinks it’s important.

I just need to think for myself on this, I need to learn a new way of thinking about things. She was my Mum, something like an angel to me and to Leo. But is there something in her life that I didn’t know about? There must be.

As I’m writing this I’m starting to realise what I need to do next. I have the list of people Mum was close to and I need to actually go and speak to those people. I have to find out what was going on. I know its supposed to be my chill out day and I will loaf around later but right now, I’m going to chuck on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and go round next door to Mabel’s. She knew Mum and she might be able to help.

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Right! So, I did what I said. I went round to Mabel’s. I haven’t been round there in ages and not much has changed. Mabel is one of these old dears that has everything so old fashioned, like it was in the fifties or something. I say old dear but actually Mabel is a firecracker.

She looks like she will be one of those gentle old ladies but actually she’s quite foulmouthed and opinionated.

‘Ah! Amber, my little chicken. What the devil are you doing here?’ she said, as I stepped through her doorway, into the kitchen that was almost the same shape as ours but totally different in style.

‘I’m just paying a visit. I’ve got a few questions,’ I said.

Might as well get it straight from the start. I don’t know if I want to copy that detective in the book exactly. He’s like pretending to be all nice to everyone when really he is just ticking boxes in his head about whether or not they are the murderers. One thing I had to tell myself whilst talking to Mabel is that she could have more to do with it than I expected. I did have to be willing for her to be involved. Anyone could be. This detective work is new territory for me.

‘Questions!’ she answered, all high pitched and indignant. ‘You’ve not been round here in at least a year and you want to ask me questions?’

‘Well, yeah,’ I said. ‘Sorry for not coming round. We've been busy.’

‘Yes, I heard about that!’ she frowning at me over the top of her spectacles. ‘Get yourself in here anyway dear.’

She shuffled me through the kitchen, me in front, her nudging me in the back, into her living room. Again, the room is the same shape as ours but it is oh so different in how it looks. There’s lace everywhere, doilies everywhere, when I say everywhere I mean, everywhere. On the back of the sofas, on every tabletop, underneath plant pots.