Keeping Mum… and Dad : Murder in the Sun, July 2015

Keeping Mum001I’ve never seen a dead body before, and if Dad has his way, I won’t get to see this one either.

I know it’s a woman, because I can see her sand-sprinkled feet. One is bare, but the other has a shiny red sandal dangling from the toes. The rest of her is covered by our picnic blanket, and the policemen are annoyed with Dad for ‘interfering with a crime scene’.

Dad is angry too. He jerks his head at me and Annie, then at the body, saying it was to protect us.

It doesn’t stop them being angry, though.

“Take him down the station,” bawls the older policeman.

“Look after Annie,” Dad shouts at me before a policewoman starts dragging us down the beach, away from Dad.

Annie starts kicking and screaming. “I’ll tell the police over you, we’re not supposed to go with pervies,” she shrieks, kicking the woman’s shins.

That’ll hurt, I think – the kick, not the ‘pervie’ tag – and sure enough, the woman screams and releases Annie’s arm.

Off goes Annie, like a greyhound.

Annie’s very young. And maybe not very bright. So she takes the shortest distance between herself and Dad, ending up sprawled on top of the body. When she realises this, she goes mental, wets not only herself but the dead woman too, and scrambles off the body to get to Dad.

The policeman sinks to his knees and puts his head in his hands.

Back at the caravan, Mum’s headache appears to have gone, and she’s sitting on the step when we appear with the limping policewoman.

“What have you been up to now?” she says, sounding really fed up.

“Mrs Molloy?” says the policewoman.

“Yes,” she snaps.

“These are your children?”

It’s a daft question. We all have bright red hair, and Annie’s the spitting image of Mum.

“Of course they are.” Mum seems to think it’s a daft question too.

“I’m afraid there’s been an incident on the beach,” says the policewoman, “and their father is helping us with our enquiries.”

Mum’s face goes white.

“Please keep the children with you, we’ll need to talk to them later.”

It’s quite late when Dad gets back to the caravan. We’ve all had our tea, though Mum hasn’t eaten much, and our bunks have been curtained off. Annie’s asleep, but I can hear them whispering.

“We just came across her,” Dad is saying. “We’d had our picnic and were having a bit of a knockabout with the ball. Rosie kicked it right down the beach, she’s really quite good with a football, you know…”

I feel a warm glow. He’s noticed then.

“…. anyway I ran after it, and found this young woman lying there, obviously in a bad way. So I went for the picnic blanket, covered her up to keep her warm, and rang the police. I told the girls to stay with our things, but you know what they’re like, and before I knew it they were only a few feet away. By that time, I’d realised she was dead and …”

“How?” says Mum.

“Well, all the blood, I suppose, and her chest wasn’t moving.”

“You touched her chest?” Mum sounds snappy.

“Only as long as it took to make sure she wasn’t breathing….” He pauses. “Then I covered her face, so’s not to frighten them. And the police seem really pissed off at me.”

“I can imagine.” Mum sounds very cold.

“They want a sample of my DNA,” he says. “I hope they don’t think I did it.”

“Who was she?”

“I don’t know,” he says, “never saw her before.”

And then I fall asleep.

Next day, two policewomen come to talk to me and Annie. They want to know everything we did yesterday, from getting up in the morning to when we were taken back to the caravan. Annie willingly obliges, and the policewomen soon lose the will to live. There’s only so much ‘teddy-walking’, ‘tig-playing’ and ‘eating chocolate-chip ice-creams’ that a grown-up can take.

When they get round to me, I say pretty much the same thing.

Only I’m older, and a bit cleverer than Annie.

Annie has forgotten that we saw Mum on the beach earlier yesterday morning, and that she was talking to a young woman wearing shiny red sandals.

So I don’t mention it.

And since Annie wasn’t with me earlier in the week, when I saw Dad and the woman in the red sandals lying together in the sand dunes, I don’t mention that either.

I’ve been told I must always look after Annie. And that’s what I’m going to do.

Annie needs a Mum and a Dad.

And if they ever talk about splitting up again, I know exactly how to keep them from doing that.

Murder in Sun002One of 23 crime fiction stories included in Murder in the Sun, on sale now in W H Smith’s.   My original story was runner up in a Writers’ Forum competition, and the editor bought it for inclusion in a one-off summer crime fiction magazine published in July 2015.

About Sandra

I used to cruise the French waterways with my husband four or five months a year, and wrote fiction and poetry. Now I live on the beautiful Dorset coast, enjoying the luxury of being able to have a cat, cultivating an extensive garden and getting involved in the community. I still write fiction, but only when the spirit moves me - which isn't as often as before. I love animals, F1 motor racing, French bread and my husband, though not necessarily in that order.
This entry was posted in Published Work and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Keeping Mum… and Dad : Murder in the Sun, July 2015

  1. You got me … all the way along. I like it a lot. Congratulations!


  2. Your usual excellent bit of writing, Sandra. Congratulations!



  3. subroto says:

    Congratulations on getting published. Its a great story as always.


  4. rogershipp says:

    Loved the story! A very astute young lady… keeping her parents together.


  5. Dee says:

    Brilliant Sandra – you at your best! I’ve been looking out for the magazine, not seen it yet but will redouble my efforts. Dee


    • Sandra says:

      Hi Dee, pleased that you liked it, thanks for reading. I think it’s only available at WH Smith’s and I had to ask for it yesterday as it had only just been delivered. The manager opened it at the first page (my story) and I couldn’t resist it. “That’s me,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. Such a saddo… 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Great story, Sandra. Congrats on having it published in the magazine. 🙂


  7. ceayr says:

    I love this.
    The voice, the dark humour just about creeping through, the youthful cynical awareness in the girl.
    ‘a bit cleverer than Annie’, superb.


I'd love to hear your views; it reassures me I'm not talking to myself.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.