Free Murder in Mind by Lyndon Stacey Page A

into the passenger seat of the MR2, and then the words burst from him as if they'd been under pressure.
    'Why did this have to happen? Why didn't she tell me she was pregnant? I would have stood by her. It's what I've always wanted – a family. Not yet, obviously, but it's one of those things – if it happens, it happens. If she'd just told me, none of this would have happened; everything would have been all right.'
    Matt didn't think Jamie really expected an answer, and he didn't attempt one. After all, what could he say that the Irishman would want to hear? That, had she lived, and by some miracle the child was proven to be Jamie's, Matt could have forecast nothing but trouble and heartache? When he'd first come into contact with Sophie, some years before, she had already earned herself the nickname of the Bradford Bang, and, from what he'd heard, the sobriquet had become more apt with each passing year.
    He wouldn't have wished her fate upon anyone, but, at the same time, he couldn't be sorry that Jamie had been freed from her clutches, once and for all. It was a very black cloud indeed that didn't have any silver lining.

4
    In spite of Matt's best efforts, Jamie didn't get up in time to ride work for Leonard the following morning. By the time Matt had had a cup of coffee and taken the dogs for their early morning stroll with Kendra, it was six o'clock and time to set out for Rockfield, but Jamie was still in bed and answering only in grunts and groans.
    'Oh, I should leave him. I expect John will understand,' Kendra said, twining her arms round Matt's neck to kiss him goodbye. 'It's only fair to cut him some slack after what happened.'
    'Are you going to be here?'
    'This morning I will, but this afternoon I was planning to go over to help Mum. She's got a delivery coming in and I said I'd lend a hand.'
    'Oh, right. How's that all going?' Joy Brewer had started her own millinery business just six months before, with an eye to capitalising on the family's racing contacts. It was based in a converted outbuilding at Birchwood Hall, where potential customers could come, drink coffee with Joy, and try on hats at leisure.
    'It's going really well,' Kendra told him. 'She's got more work than she can cope with. She was talking about taking on a part-timer to help.'
    Matt thought he detected a wistful note in her voice.
    'So, how many hours would you do?' he asked.
    Kendra looked up into his face, her eyes hopeful.
    'Would you mind?'
    'No. Why on earth would I? It's up to you. I expect you get bored hanging around here, anyway.'
    'Well, sometimes. It would be nice to help Mum and I love the hats.'
    'Then go for it,' Matt advised, kissing her once more and lightly slapping her behind.
    'But what about Jamie . . . ? Are you worried about him?'
    'A little. He was really down yesterday. Finding out that Sophie was pregnant really shook him up – he seems to have taken it for granted that the baby was his. Personally, I have my doubts, but what I'm trying to get him to see is that he mustn't let all this stuff affect his career. He's been doing so well lately, but he needs rides to get rides. Out of sight is all too quickly out of mind. He mustn't stop trying, just because a couple of people are reacting like idiots.'
    'I suppose he's bound to take it hard,' Kendra said. 'He's only a kid and not everyone's as single-minded as you are.'
    'He's older than you,' Matt protested.
    'I'm not talking numbers. Go on, you'd better get going or you'll be late.'
    Matt's day was busy. After riding out with the Rockfield string, and having breakfast with the trainer and his wife, he travelled up-country with Leonard, where he rode five horses, notching up two winners and one second place. It was the day of Tortellini's run in the Midlands Gold Plate, and the horse didn't disappoint, romping home five lengths clear of the field, much to the delight of Roy Emmett, who pressed two fifty-pound notes into Matt's palm after the prize-giving.
    It wasn't