Mrs. Tennison came out of the kitchen, wiping her flour-dusted hands on a long pink and red pinafore. It was one that Jane and her sister Pam had bought her for Christmas five years earlier.
‘Jane!’ They kissed and hugged. As Mrs. Tennison stepped back, Jane smiled and brushed flour off her coat.
‘Sorry I’ve not been in touch recently — I’ve been really busy at work, but my DCI let me finish early today.’
‘I’ve seen the news on TV and read the papers about those terrible murders. I hope you’re not on the investigation.’
‘I am, Mum, I am.’
Her mother took a moment to consider her response. ‘Then maybe I spoke out of turn the other night, and I’m sorry. But you know if you ever need us we’re here.’
Jane was not expecting her mother to be so sympathetic, especially after their last telephone conversation had ended so abruptly.
‘It’s not been pleasant, Mum. But it’s far worse for the families who lost a loved one.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on and butter some scones.’ Mrs. Tennison hurried into the kitchen.
Jane looked at her father. ‘Some things never change,’ she said, realizing her mother didn’t really want to discuss her work.
‘Your mother told me she was upset and put the phone down on you the other evening. I had a word with her about being more understanding when it comes to your work as a detective. She is trying, but you know how she worries about you, especially after you got caught up in that IRA bomb.’
‘I was off duty when the explosion happened, Dad. It was just wrong place, wrong time.’
‘And then there was that IRA sleeper woman who tried to kill you.’
‘Natalie Wilde fooled me and a lot of other people, but I learnt a valuable lesson.’ Jane followed her father into the lounge and sat down on the sofa.
‘How is the investigation going? Are you any nearer catching the suspect?’ her father asked quietly, after checking Mrs. Tennison was still in the kitchen.
Although Jane had promised herself she wouldn’t think about work for the rest of the day, she didn’t mind discussing it with her father. He had always been supportive of her career choice, and had a genuine interest in her investigations, offering sensible advice or words of comfort when she felt down. Jane also knew she could trust her father to keep what she told him to himself. She filled him in briefly about the three murders — the hardest thing to talk about being that a nine-year-old boy had lost his mother.
Her father shook his head sadly. ‘That poor boy.’
‘Simon may have been sexually abused. I have to take him to be interviewed by a social services welfare officer and he’ll be examined by a pediatrician,’ Jane said.
Jane’s father could hear the pain in her voice. ‘That side of police work must be heart-wrenching.’
‘Yes, it is. But if Simon was abused, it will give us further evidence against the suspect and reveal some of his motive for the murders.’
‘Well, I hope to God you catch him, Jane. Cases like that make you wonder if it was right to abolish hanging.’
Jane was surprised. ‘We don’t always get it right in the police, Dad. In the past, innocent people have been convicted by a jury and hung for murders they didn’t commit. To be honest, I’m not convinced our suspect acted alone. He may have had an accomplice.’
‘Really? Have you told your boss what you think?’ Mr. Tennison asked.
‘I made the mistake of airing my opinion in an office meeting and got a severe dressing-down from DCI Moran and DI Gibbs about my gut feelings and jumping to wild conclusions.’
Her father nodded sympathetically. ‘I watched a TV documentary recently about human intuition. It said that gut feelings and instinct play a big part in a detective’s search for the truth — especially knowing when someone is lying. You shouldn’t dismiss a gut feeling just because others disagree with you.’
Jane smiled. Her dad really was a wise old soul. ‘I know, and thanks for the advice, Dad. Anyway, I wanted to have a job-free evening, so if it’s OK with you, can we talk about something else?’
‘I’ll get the slide projector and screen out. You haven’t seen the slides of our last cruise, have you?’
Jane was on the point of saying she had, but didn’t want to disappoint her father. ‘I’d love to see them, thanks.’
‘Tea’s up.’ Mrs. Tennison walked in with a tray of tea and plate of fresh buttered scones and jam.
Watching the cruise slides, Jane bit into a scone and realized how much she missed her mother’s home cooking. ‘These are the best, Mum.’
‘Thank you, dear. I’ve put some in a cake tin for you to take home. I’ve got a homemade steak and kidney pie, with mash and peas, for supper later.’
‘You’re spoiling me now, Mum.’ Jane smiled.
Jane’s father kept up a running commentary as he went through the slides, and she had to fight to stop herself from drifting off. Then the doorbell rang.
‘See who it is, please, dear,’ her mother asked, looking at Jane.
She opened the door to a smiling Pam and her husband Tony, who was holding baby Nathan. Pam was carrying a wicker baby basket and had a patchwork baby bag slung over her shoulder.
‘Mum rang to say you were visiting, so we thought we’d surprise you,’ Pam explained.
Tony held Nathan’s tiny hand and made him wave to Jane. ‘Say hello to your aunty Jane, Nat.’
‘Nat?’ Jane wasn’t sure if she’d heard Tony correctly.
‘It’s short for Nathan. It was my idea and Mum liked it,’ Pam said.
Jane just smiled, even though she thought Nat sounded like a bug. Jane followed her sister and Tony into the living room.
Mrs. Tennison came out from the kitchen, delighted to see her grandson, as was Mr. Tennison.
‘I’ve got some good news for you all,’ Pam announced.
‘You’re pregnant again?’ Mrs. Tennison ventured.
‘No, Mother. The date for Nat’s christening is set.’ Pam turned to Jane. ‘I want you to be his godmother.’
Tony handed Nathan to Jane. ‘We both want you to be his godmother.’
‘Me? Really? I don’t know what to say,’ Jane stammered.
‘That’s a lovely idea.’ Her mother beamed.
‘Of course I’d be honored.’ Jane felt chuffed as she cradled six-month-old Nathan in her arms.
Mrs. Tennison put her arm around Jane’s shoulder. ‘Being a godmother is a big responsibility, dear.’
‘You’ll be like an extra parent to Nat,’ Pam added.
Mrs. Tennison nodded in agreement. ‘You’ll have an important role to play at the christening. Make sure to book a day off from work as soon as you can.’
‘And try not to be late,’ Pam added with a smile.
Jane looked into her nephew’s beautiful blue eyes. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
Nathan gurgled, burped and started to cry.
‘Nat’s hungry.’ Pam took him from Jane, then sat down to breastfeed him.
Mr. Tennison looked away.
Mrs. Tennison shook her head. ‘Don’t be so prudish. Breastfeeding is perfectly natural.’
Mr. Tennison got up from his armchair. ‘There’s something I need to do in the kitchen.’
Pam finished feeding Nathan, then handed him to Jane. ‘He needs burping now.’
‘I haven’t a clue how to do that, Pam.’
‘Hold him against your chest, so his chin is resting on your shoulder, then support him with one hand and gently rub his back with the other. Like this.’
Suddenly Nathan burped, then passed wind. It made Jane laugh, but she didn’t find it so funny when he burped the second time and was sick.
‘Sorry, I forgot to put a cloth on your shoulder. It’s not much anyway,’ Pam said casually as she rubbed Jane’s shoulder with the cloth.