White Lies. Rachel Green

White Lies - Rachel Green


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returned to the kitchen, located the roll, wiped and washed her hands. She had the delicious sensation of heat radiating from her clitoris. She’d only have to touch it for her whole body to become inflamed. It’d hurt, of course. Her clit was always ultrasensitive after an orgasm but wasn’t that the point? A bit of pain could enhance so many pleasures. She returned to the hall and slapped Jimmy on the bum. “You need practice.”

      “It’s been ten years. You’ll get no argument from me.” Jimmy grinned, reaching past her again, exactly as he did when she’d kissed him. He switched on the hall light.

      “Is that what you were doing last time? Switching on the light?” She felt mortified, having made such a fool of herself. What must he think of her? This was worse than the time Bryn Williams had asked if she was going to the Aberdovey dance hall and she’d said “yes please” only to learn he wanted her to babysit his two year old.

      “Yes, of course.”

      She thought his smile could guide a ship to harbor. “Oh. I thought you were making a pass.”

      “Ah.” Jimmy nodded. “That explains why you lunged at me then. I did wonder, seeing as we’d just discussed not having affairs with people you work with.”

      “Yes. Sorry.” Meinwen took a deep breath and looked at the hall while her heart rate returned from “embarrassing old bag” to “platonic friend.” Old floorboards with the varnish mostly rubbed off contrasted the large, flower-papered walls. “Shall we get on? I’d like to get to see the place on Chervil Court before it gets dark.”

      “Sure.” Jimmy pointed to the bulb. “That had blown when I arrived yesterday. The whole hall was pitch-black.

      “That must have been hairy.” The phrase brought Jimmy’s scrotum to mind and she turned away to hide her blush. “I haven’t seen wallpaper like this since my Aunty Glad died.”

      “I don’t think the house has changed since we were kids.” Jimmy led her into the living room and turned on the light. A new television dominated the space. It was probably as big as Meinwen’s whole kitchen.

      “New carpet, new telly, new sofa.” Meinwen went further inside. “You can smell the paint, too. He was doing this place up. Where did you put the paint and brushes?”

      “Er...nowhere. I haven’t seen them. There were some tins in the shed, I think, or maybe in the glory hole...” He stepped out into the hall and opened the cupboard under the stairs. “Yes. They’re here. A whole decorating kit, I think.”

      “That explains all the boxes. Either to get it out of the way for decorating or to get rid of it.”

      “I opened one. It was full of gym equipment. Wall bars, skipping ropes, that sort of thing.”

      “He was clearing the house then. If it was me I’d have done the living room and bedroom first, then the bathroom and kitchen and finally the rest of the house. My guess is he expected to do the rest together so you had input.”

      “Aye. Mebbe.” Jimmy glanced around, his gaze coming to rest on the sideboard. “Would you like a drink? He left me a variety.”

      “No thanks. I can’t process alcohol very well. A glass of wine sends me squiffy.” Meinwen returned to the hall, looking up until she could see the loft hatch through the gap between the stairs and the ceiling. “Sergeant Peters said one of John’s shoes was found down here. I haven’t seen the photographs so I don’t know where.”

      “Is that unusual?” Jimmy looked up. “It could have dropped through the gap, couldn’t it?”

      “I don’t know.” Meinwen glanced down at the floor, hoping to see the chalk outline of a shoe but was disappointed. “Ah, well. Onward and upward.”

      The upstairs was dustier than the ground floor and showed a large number of prints in the dust, both the heavy tread of workman’s boots and the flat, oval impressions made by forensic bootees. “We’re not going to get anything here.” She looked up at the loft hatch. “Did you go up?”

      Jimmy clenched his jaw. “I didn’t see the point to be honest. Not with the police coming here anyway. They’ll have had a poke around.”

      Meinwen nodded to the step ladders leaning against the wall in the smaller bedroom. “He was probably using those to decorate downstairs. The police will have moved them to get the b–your brother out. Go on then.” She aimed an upward nod toward the hatch.

      “What?”

      “Up you go. Show me what you’re made of.”

      “I’m not sure I–”

      Meinwen reached out to hold his arm. “We need to know if there’s anything up there that’s not your brother’s. If he really was murdered, the killer was up there. If he left so much as a button it will lead us to him.”

      Jimmy took a breath, letting it out in a long sigh, his cheeks ballooning in a fetching, boyish manner. “If you say so. There’s no light up there, though. We’ll need a torch.”

      “Do you have one?”

      “There should be one in the drawer next to the sink. Mam always kept one in there. I don’t know about batteries though. Check it first.”

      Meinwen trotted back downstairs to the kitchen and pulled open the drawer. There was indeed a torch in there, but one so pitted with rust around the bulb she doubted it had worked in years. She was about to go back up and abandon the loft search when she spotted another torch hanging from a hook next to the back door. She snagged it, pleased to see it was a modern one with a large group of LEDs replacing the single bulb. It worked fine. She went back up.

      “Here.” She handed the torch to Jimmy. “I’ll hold the ladder.”

      “Thanks.” Jimmy climbed the six steps and pushed open the hatch, sliding it to one side out of the way. “It’s funny. We used to be up and down here as kids. Now it makes my heart shake.”

      “You’re just afraid of ghosts and spirits.” Meinwen patted his leg, about all she could reach now. “They’re drawn to places of death.”

      “Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a whole lot better.” Jimmy switched on the torch and shone it inside the loft space. “I can’t see anything. The whole loft is bare.”

      Meinwen could see the shadows of beams flicking from side to side as he shone the torch about. It was only her fancy that drew the shapes of ghosts in the shadows, she was sure. “All right. Come on down.”

      It was with obvious relief that Jimmy replaced the hatch and came down the ladder. “Sorry. No clues that I can see.”

      “I didn’t think there would be, to be honest.” Meinwen took the torch while he put the stepladder away. “But we had to check.”

      “I don’t know what I was expecting to see up there.” Jimmy shook his head and swallowed. “A noose maybe.”

      “No. The police would have taken it as evidence.” Meinwen sounded more confidant than she felt. She went into the bathroom. There was nothing out of the ordinary. No sex toys or lingerie. She opened the cabinet. A spare toothbrush. Aspirin, hemorrhoid cream, sticky plasters. She lifted out a small tub of white paste.

      “What’s that?”

      “Magnesium sulfate.” She looked sideways at him. “Used for drawing out infections, often”–she reached out to pinch his nipple–“in piercings.”

      “Oh.” It hardened under her touch.

      “Just so.” She replaced the pot and went to the next room, where the stepladders had come from. “What’s this room?”

      “This used to be ours when we were kids.” Jimmy switched on the light since there wasn’t enough coming through the window. He patted the first box. “John’s comic collection. He has complete sets of all sorts. Probably worth


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