Nine Elms (Kate Marshall #1)(59)

“Shit,” he said.

“What?” said Kate, pulling hers out from the depths of her bag.

“Keir Castle just unfriended me,” he said, holding up the screen. “I’m locked out of his profile again.”

“You think he suspected something?” asked Kate.

“I don’t have work info on my profile . . .” He looked at Kate. “People are weird on social media.”

“But why would he unfriend someone who could help his career? Have they put your picture on the Ashdean University website?” asked Kate.

“Not yet.”

Kate scrolled through her phone.

“I’m going to get the postmortem info, and I’m going to see if Alan can pull some strings and look into Keir Castle.”





30

They heard nothing more that afternoon, and Kate came home in the evening feeling restless. However, she was excited to talk to Jake on Skype, especially because their regular Skype call had been delayed a day to Thursday because he had football practice.

He was bouncing around the kitchen when he called, and he held up the contents of the bag he was already packing to come and see her for half term.

“It’s less than two weeks!” He grinned. “I’ve got Grandma to buy me some sea shoes, cos of the rocks.” He held a pair of bright-green rubber shoes.

“They’re snazzy,” said Kate.

“No, they’re cool, Mum. Don’t say snazzy. You sound like Grandma, and she’s way older than you.”

“Who are you calling She?” said Glenda, appearing on-screen behind him with a bag of shopping, which she placed on the kitchen counter. “Hello, Catherine.”

“Hi, Mum. What have you got for tea?” asked Kate, a pang of jealousy flaring up in her. Wishing she was there to sit around the table for dinner with them all.

“Salmon en cro?te,” she said, holding up a box. “Marks & Spencer do a lovely one . . .”

“That’s posh for salmon pie,” said Jake to Kate in a low voice, making her smile.

“We’re having it with asparagus and new potatoes,” Glenda added.

“Can you hire me a wet suit when I come? The sea will be cold, won’t it?”

“Yes, I can ask Myra at the surf shop. Although I swim every day with no wet suit.”

“That’s nutty,” said Jake, shaking his head. “Nutbag.”

Glenda finished unpacking the shopping, turned and saw something on the kitchen table, and came over. “Jake. Did you eat all of these?” she said, holding up an empty packet of HARIBO cola bottles. He shook his head. “I hope not, young man . . . Look. You’re jiggling your leg, Jake. I can’t cope with your hyperactive behavior, not tonight.”

Jake put his fingers in the corner of his mouth and rolled back his eyes so only the whites were showing.

“This is Grandma, before she puts on her makeup,” he said.

“Jake, come on, that’s not nice,” said Kate.

“Has he told you about Facebook?” asked Glenda.

“No. What?” asked Kate. Jake folded his arms and looked guilty.

“He defriended me.”

“No one else has their grandma as a friend, and have you seen her profile picture? She’s wearing her swimming costume!” Jake cried.

Kate opened Facebook on her laptop screen, shifting the Skype screen over. She found Glenda’s Facebook profile. Her mother still had a fabulous figure, and in her profile photo she was posing on a deck chair in a bloodred one-piece swimsuit. She sat bolt upright, her slim brown legs shining with lotion. A croupier’s visor with a matching red shade sat on her perfectly coiffed blonde hair.

“That’s quite a picture, Mum,” said Kate.

“Thank you. That was at the villa in Portugal, two years ago. Is Jake still friends with you?” asked Glenda. Kate checked and was surprised to see that she had also been unfriended. She could see only his name and photo.

“No, he’s not. Jake! We told you that you could only be on Facebook if we were friends with you and we had your password,” said Kate.

“Mum, you know I love you,” he said in a pleading, silly voice. “But I have a reputation to keep up. Please, please, please forgive me.” He put his hands together and fluttered his eyelids. Kate could see he had eaten the whole bag of sweets.

“You’re fourteen, what kind of reputation do you need?”

“A cool one,” he said, still grinning. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you, just not in public.”

Kate couldn’t be mad with him, but he had to understand.

“You need to friend us both now and then send us your new password or we have your profile deactivated,” said Kate.

“You can’t do that,” he said.

“I was a policewoman, and I still know officers. They can go in and close down people’s Facebook profiles and delete everything.”

“But I’ve got pictures and messages and loads of likes!” he cried.

“Friend us both now and nothing changes,” said Kate. Jake did so and then stormed off out of the room. There was a thudding sound as he stomped upstairs and then a distant sound of a door slamming. Glenda sat down wearily and rubbed her eyes.