Chapter 23

Chapter 23

‘So how was your day, son? Nose to the grindstone?'

PC Dave Reynolds leaned back in his chair, pushing his plate away and turning to Archie.

‘Pretty much,' the sixteen-year-old replied, shrugging. ‘It's basically just revision now.'

‘So when's your first exam?'

‘English lit, next week. Macbeth , Jekyll and Hyde , An Inspector Calls . There's loads to do … but I think I'm getting through it.'

‘You see, Jackie?' Reynolds replied, turning to his lithe, polished wife. ‘What a conscientious boy we've raised. Like I always said, there's no substitute for hard work.'

Smiling, the thirty-two-year-old brunette squeezed her son's hand, her eyes sparkling.

‘He's a good boy,' Jackie Reynolds agreed. ‘We'll have to think what we're going to do after you've finished. You deserve a special treat, eh Archie?'

The teenager shrugged, blushing.

‘Let's see how we go,' her husband replied cautiously. ‘Plenty of bridges to cross first, eh? Now, have we got any pudding tonight or are we done?'

Jackie Reynolds' smile faltered momentarily, before she rose, picking up her plate and reaching over to take her husband's.

‘Not tonight. I've literally been rushed off my feet all day. But there's ice cream in the freezer if you're still hungry …'

Reynolds raised an eyebrow conspiratorially at his son, as he replied, ‘Busy, busy, busy, eh? No, you're all right. I've got stuff to do anyway.'

He rose, taking a last swig of water.

‘Any chance you could do the dishes first? I said I'd call Mum at nine and it's already ten past.'

‘She can wait. What else has she got going on?'

‘She gets worried if I'm late. And I'm sure Archie would give you a hand?'

‘Of course,' the teenager said quickly, rising and picking up his own plate and glass.

‘I've got to take the dog out,' Reynolds replied, more firmly. ‘Poor thing's probably been stuck in here all day. Unless you've walked her?'

‘Like I said, I haven't had the time.'

‘She's a whippet, Jackie, she needs exercise. Come on, Willow …'

Across the room, the dog's ears pricked up.

‘I don't understand why you're being so pig-headed about this,' Jackie insisted, her voice shaking slightly. ‘It'll only take you a few—'

Dave Reynolds snapped his fingers loudly, cutting off her protest and simultaneously summoning the dog.

‘There, that's better, isn't it?' Reynolds said, bending down to stroke the dog affectionately. ‘Enough talking, let's start walking, eh girl?'

As he spoke, he looked up at his wife. Jackie lowered her eyes, ducking his piercing gaze, keen to avoid further confrontation. Next to her, Archie hesitated, uncertain what to do, but now his father broke into a broad grin.

‘Come on then. Let's give you a good run out.'

Crossing to the back door, Dave Reynolds picked up the lead and ushered the dog outside, shutting the door firmly behind him. Silence filled the room, a tense, pregnant silence, then breaking away, Jackie Reynolds crossed to the sink, roughly pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. Turning on the tap, she began scrubbing at the pots, but as she did so, her shoulders started to shake. From his vantage point at the table, Archie Reynolds watched his mother, his heart sinking further with each heave of her body, before picking up a tea towel and quietly crossing the room to join her.