Kennedy 04 - The Broken Circle by Shirley Wells

and winked. ‘You didn’t know Jack was a philosopher, did you?’
    ‘Away with you, woman,’ Jack said irritably.
    Reluctantly, it seemed to Jill, he left the comfort of his shed and stepped outside.
    ‘You’ll be here for those raffle tickets,’ he guessed. ‘They’re in the kitchen.’
    His dog trotted by his side as they walked up the path to the house and, a few minutes later, Ella was putting the ticket stubs in her pocket and they were on their way again.
    ‘Him and his shed,’ Ella said, shaking her head.
    ‘How long has he lived there, Ella?’
    ‘He was born in that house. What is he now? My, he must be seventy-eight.’
    ‘He looks good on it.’
    ‘He does,’ Ella agreed. ‘I think it was in 1952 that he married Mary. Around that time anyway. Shortly after that, their son, James was born. They wanted more children, Mary did especially, but it wasn’t to be.’
    Ella thought for a moment.
    ‘We were good friends, me and Mary. You would have liked her. It’s hard to believe that twenty years have passed since she died. Cancer,’ she added grimly.
    Ella, who had lost her beloved Tom to cancer, hated the disease with a passion.
    ‘I remember when James married Emily,’ she went on, her frown clearing. ‘Mary was beside herself when they went to live in Manchester. “Good God, woman,” Jack used to say, “Manchester’s not the other side of the world, is it?” It might as well have been for Mary. But they had the phone put in and, besides, James and Emily were only in Manchester a few years before they moved back to the village. And they had three children—Hannah, Adam and young Luke.’ She laughed at herself. ‘Hark at me. Young Luke is twenty-eight now.’
    Just like Jack, Ella and her husband spent their lives in Kelton Bridge. Ella, fascinated by the history of the area, knew all there was to know about the place.
    ‘It was Hannah who claimed Jack’s heart, though,’ she murmured. ‘He’d always longed for a daughter, not that he would have admitted as much, but Mary always knew that, and I suppose Hannah filled an empty space in his heart. And, of course, Hannah worships him.’
    ‘He must be so upset for her and Gordon,’ Jill said.
    ‘Dreadfully. Far more than he’ll let on. But he and Archie will set the world to rights over a couple of pints. Archie will help him get life into perspective.’
    Jill hoped so.
    They carried on to Jill’s cottage and she handed over those raffle ticket stubs.
    And then it was too late to waste yet more time on a plumber. She needed to be on the road.
    HMP Styal was as depressing, noisy, cheerless and smelly as ever. Jill tried to block out the background din and concentrate on the woman sitting opposite her.
    ‘I hear you’ve been upset, Claire.’
    Jill had been told that, while watching television with several other inmates last night, Claire had ‘gone berserk’.
    She’d upended a table and thrown one of the metal-legged chairs at the set. She was quiet now, but possibly only because, once again, she’d spent the night sedated.
    ‘Was it something you saw on the television?’ Jill asked.
    Claire gazed back at her, her expression more vacant than ever. She was still hungover from the medication they’d given her.
    What else could it have been? According to one inmate, Claire had been laughing with her and then, suddenly, she had thrown that chair.
    ‘I often feel like throwing things at the telly,’ Jill went on. ‘Sometimes, for me, it’s when I’m watching the news and I hear that the government have come up with yet another madcap idea. More often than not, though, it’s when my horses lose.’
    Claire managed a small smile at that.
    HMP Styal was even more smelly than usual. ‘What was on the lunch menu today?’ Jill asked, pulling a face.
    Claire, finally, managed a real smile. ‘It doesn’t matter. Whatever you pick, it all smells the same.’
    ‘That bad, eh?’
    ‘Disgusting,’ Claire said, nodding.
    They