Letting out the Worms: Guilty or not? If not then the alternative is terrifying (Kitty Thomas Book 1

address. It’s only a quick walk away. She wants you to go straight round.’ He passed her a flimsy box. ‘Give her this and you can have cake with your tea.’
With the cakes in the carry-box of her bike, Kitty followed Tom’s directions to a semi-detached bungalow with bare winter borders and a lawn that had been recently mown. The pristine front door was dark green, and the cream rendered walls were equally unblemished. Streetlights reflected from a bow window to her left as she thumbed the bell.
Although Liz looked older, she still emanated the energy and brightness of eye of the lady who sneaked Kitty treats with a wink and a finger to her lips. Kitty experienced a surprising wave of emotion.
‘Kitty. Come in, darling. You’ve no idea how happy I am you’ve come.’ Kitty returned her tight hug with brimming eyes. Liz pulled away and searched her face. ‘You have your mother’s cheekbones. Come on into the kitchen and let me look at you.’ As they passed the sitting room, Liz grabbed a tissue from a box and passed it to Kitty without comment.
While Kitty recovered her composure, Liz scurried around, making tea and filling Kitty in on her history. ‘When my job at Feast folded, I spent a few months at home feeling sorry for myself - and all of you. I couldn’t interfere.’ She looked behind her at Kitty. ‘I didn’t know you well enough. I’ve experienced the loss of someone close. Everyone’s so kind. They all want to help but they can’t, and sometimes their kind intentions can be overwhelming.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Kitty shrugged. ‘You probably did the right thing. I haven’t thought about you since that time.’ Her head shot up. ‘I’m so sorry. That sounds harsh…’
‘No. You were a child. No reason for you to think of the woman who helped someone else’s mother in a restaurant.’
‘I wasn’t expecting those tears. It’s weird how you can think you are in control, then something sneaks up on you.’
Liz brought two mugs and a plate bearing the cakes. She sighed. ‘I have no willpower. I’m trying to diet, but Tom keeps sending me cake.’ She gave her hips a pat. ‘Since retiring I have spread.’ She looked at Kitty. ‘You - lucky girl - have inherited your mother’s figure.’
Kitty helped herself to a large slice of Bakewell Tart, and Liz cut one in half for herself.
Kitty asked, ‘Are you still involved in running One the Square?’
‘Not anymore. Tom does a splendid job managing it for me. I’m very lucky to have him. He had an excellent education and could probably have got a job anywhere, but he enjoys being his own boss.’ She nibbled her cake. ‘He has great plans for expansion and longer opening hours. He reminds me of Millie - cheerful and enthusiastic.’
‘He’s your nephew, isn’t he?’
‘Yes. My brother’s boy. Dick’s a successful man,’ Liz pulled her jaw down. ‘I don’t imagine running a little restaurant was what he had in mind for Tom.’
Kitty told Liz about her own life, the small talk a preamble to her actual reason for being here. Still, she was glad to chat. It reminded her how comfortable she had been with Liz. ‘Did Tom tell you why I wanted to meet you?’ she asked, at last.
‘He did and I’ve spent the past hour trying to remember rough dates.’ Liz passed Kitty a sheet of paper. ‘I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but I thought the comings and goings of various people might be helpful.’
‘That’s great.’ Kitty flicked her eyes over the page and stopped at the name James and beside the name, scrawled in brackets, summer? Another note read, Single diner. Millie got twittery.
‘Can you read my writing? I’m told it’s terrible.’
‘It’s fine. You can interpret most things in my job.’ Kitty ran her eyes to the end of Liz’s document. There he was again: James called in after closing time. Chatted Millie up
‘What do you mean, Millie got twittery?’
Liz nodded. ‘She was attracted to him. I noticed it when she came into the kitchen that first time. She was flustered.’
Interesting. Millie became ‘twittery’ with a man. Did they date, Kitty wondered, and who was he?
She ran her eye down the page again. There were references to various regular customers; Mick called for his children; Paul did the same, and, Paul helped with the upstairs conversion. Maurice did not seem to make an appearance, and Kitty queried this.
‘No. I didn’t meet Maurice. He was Josh and Sam’s dad, wasn’t he?’
‘Still is,’ nodded Kitty.’ She refrained from commenting that he was still bloody hopeless. ‘All our fathers are alive and kicking. Mine’s about to become a dad again.’ She grinned at the look on Liz’s face. ‘He’s a grown man - he’ll cope. He was a great dad to me.’ She pushed Paul’s fiery temper and excessive drinking from her mind.
Liz leaned across and patted Kitty’s hand. ‘So, you’re OK, then?’
‘I’m fine, Liz. Glad I’ve found you, though.’ She stretched over and helped herself to the other half of Liz’s slice. ‘I seem to have found a great source of sugar.’
‘Be careful,’ warned Liz. ‘You too could have a figure like mine.’ They smiled at one another.
16 MAX 1992
‘Morning, Julie.’ Max gave the new receptionist his most charming smile thinking how attractive she was.
‘Morning Mr Rutherford,’ Julie simpered from the desk, her new wedding ring shiny on her finger.
The high Georgian bay windows of his consulting room cast a cool light onto the desk. Beyond the windows, a long lawn stretched some hundred feet, ending at a bed of shrubs and leafless trees. Inside the room, cream-coloured walls and pale grey drapes invoked a calm atmosphere. In the hearth, low flames tasted two glowing logs. Max nodded his approval.
The phone on his desk rang, and Julie