Free A Deadly Imperfection: Calladine & Bayliss 3 by HH Durrant Page B

the factory since the death of his father.  So he had a half brother as well.  It was too much - he wasn’t ready to sort this just yet.
    ‘I’m sorry Ruth but this is a too much to take in.  I think I’ll just go home.  I need some time alone to work all this out.  My head’s spinning.’
    ‘You can’t drive, you’ve drunk most of that wine and you’re probably a bit tiddly.  Jake will take you, he needs to get petrol for tomorrow anyway,’ she said, going off to get him.
    It had been a night and a half as it was and he couldn’t take any more so he hoped Lydia had calmed down.  He didn’t relish the idea of arguing afresh about Fallon, not now, not with all this on his mind.  Perhaps he should just tell her, get it all out in the open.
    ‘Take it with you,’ Ruth said pushing the tin box into his hand.  ‘It can’t do you any more harm.  You know its secrets now.’
    ‘Mores the pity,’ he said kissing her cheek.  ‘Thanks, lovely meal.  I’ll be better company in the morning, once I’ve mulled it over, and no need to drag Jake out, I’ll leave my car here and walk,’ he told her.  ‘It’s hardly miles, is it - just along the High Street.’
    ‘You’ll be alright?’
    ‘Course – what d’you imagine I’m going to do?  I’m not a child, you know.  I just want to clear my head.  Sort all this out,’ he said, shaking the box.
    He turned his overcoat collar up against the biting wind, tucked the box under his arm and stuffed his hands in his pockets.  Ruth pregnant, he never thought he’d see the day.  He smiled, it was good, it really was, she’d make a great mum and Jake would be great too.  They were good together, pity he couldn’t find that special someone like Ruth had.  Lydia wasn’t settling down material, she was far too ambitious.  She wanted fun and excitement - he was merely a means to an end, a channel for the information she needed, sobering thought.
    It was only Wednesday night but the High Street was busy.  A group of men were noisily drawing attention to themselves outside the ‘Weaver’s Arms’ pub.  Someone shouted and he heard a bottle smash.  It wasn’t that late but it was already shaping up to be a wild one.
    Calladine turned down a side street - he’d go down the back lane and reach his home that way.  He wasn’t in any mood to run the gauntlet of the other pubs strung along Leesdon main thoroughfare.
    ‘Detective Inspector,’ a deep voice intoned from in front of him.
    He’d got his head down against the wind so he hadn’t noticed the pool of light coming from the shop window.  Amaris Dean was sweeping up the rubbish from the footpath outside her shop.
    ‘You’re open late,’ he noted. 
    ‘We’ve had a development session here tonight,’ she smiled.
    He’d no idea what she meant but he nodded and smiled back anyway.  She looked nice, for a woman who must be close to his own age she was in good nick.  Tonight she wore that long lustrous hair up in a sort of roll at the back, it showed off the delicate bone structure of her face.  She wasn’t wearing much makeup just a little lipstick and something that seemed to make her eyes look all smoky and sexy.
    ‘You keep long hours, a bit like me,’ he couldn’t think of anything else to say.  He was tongue tied like an inept teenager talking to a girl he fancied, for the first time.  ‘You still have to travel home then?’
    ‘No, I live up there,’ she said pointing to the first floor.  ‘I have a lovely flat above my shop.  Fancy a drink, Tom,’ she smiled again.  She had that look in her eyes again, the one that he felt sure could see into his very soul.  ‘You don’t mind if I call you Tom, do you?’
    She was still staring, her gaze holding him.  No he certainly didn’t, she could call him anything she wanted.  He was attracted to her, but not just that, there was something else too, for now he’d put it down to fascination. 
    ‘You look….