The Third Sin by Aline Templeton

up.’
    ‘You’re a star.’
    Jen went through to the little sitting room, where there was a fire burning in the old-fashioned grate. It wasn’t a cold day but it was drizzling and grey outside and with its small cottage windows the room was dark. Before, when she had come back to an empty house and a grate full of dead ashes it had often seemed so unwelcoming that Jen would settle in the kitchen, which was in a bright modern extension at the back. Now she settled cosily by the fire in her favourite armchair – second-if not third-hand but plumply cushioned – with a pleasurable groan.
    Skye was working hard at anticipating her every want. It was like having a very superior housekeeper, but Jen was troubled. She’d thought once the bruising had gone and she’d seen her father, Skye would stop hiding. But this morning, when Jen suggested she should go to the shop, Skye had shrunk back.
    ‘No, no, I can’t! No one must know I’m here! You haven’t told anyone, have you?’
    Jen hadn’t, in fact. It had been a busy time at school; no one there knew Skye and in any case she made a point of never talking about anything related to the tragedy.
    ‘No,’ she assured her. ‘But Skye, you can’t live indoors for the rest of your life. Have you some sort of plan?’
    Skye ignored the question. ‘Promise you won’t tell anyone I’m here! Just till I decide what I’m going to do. Promise!’
    ‘Well, of course, if you insist—’
    ‘Thanks, Jen. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Do you want an egg – scrambled?’
    ‘Scrambled would be lovely,’ she had said. It wasn’t the time to tackle Skye, when she was so fragile.
    The trouble was, Jen couldn’t see that she was getting any less fragile – she’d heard her sobbing in her room again last night. Skye tried to cover it up but she was showing all the signs of depression; her hair was stringy and though Jen had offered to lend her clothes since she had only brought a small rucksack with her, she’d refused, alternating two sweaters and jeans. As a loyal friend, all Jen could do was to wait in patience until Skye felt better or was ready to explain.
    And now there was something she had to mention to her – something that had niggled at her all day. She didn’t know how Skye would take it – or even whether it would come as news to her or not.
    When Skye came in, she brought a plate as well as the wine and the glasses and offered it to Jen, looking at the little pies on it slightly dubiously. ‘I hope these are all right. I’m getting quite into cooking now and I just wanted to try making them.’
    Jen bit into one and pronounced it delicious. There were definite compensations for being patient.
    Skye took her glass and sat down. ‘Tell me about your bad day,’ she said, just as if she’d found a handbook on how to be the perfect wife.
    Jen seized the moment. ‘Oh, too boring to talk about,’ she said. ‘But I’ll tell you who I bumped into in the shop – Will! I didn’t realise he was back from Canada.’
    The colour drained from Skye’s face. ‘W-Will?’ she said, and her glass dropped through her fingers and spilt on the rug.
    ‘Oh – oh, sorry, h-how clumsy!’ she stammered, jumping to her feet. ‘I’ll get a cloth.’
    Jen stared after her blankly. When Skye returned with the cloth, she had regained control of herself. ‘Here we are,’ she said, dabbing at the rug. ‘Glass must have been slippery with condensation.
    ‘I didn’t realise Will was here – he must have decided to come back for the Homecoming party. That’s good.’ She straightened up. ‘The casserole’s ready, so we’d better eat before it spoils.’
    Picking up her glass and the rest of the nibbles Jen followed her friend through to the kitchen, feeling a bit dazed. It didn’t look as if Skye was going to be any more forthcoming about this than she had been about anything else.

CHAPTER SIX
    DI Fleming drove back frowning after her meeting