When I Wasn't Watching by Michelle Kelly

in here these days,’ he said with a cheery compassion that made Lucy want to hug him. She smiled at him and he patted her hand before walking off with his books clutched to his chest. The rest of the queue became a blur of faces and then Lucy finished up for the day by tidying up the children’s area, left in disarray as usual by the regular pre-school Sunday Storytelling group. Susan closed the computers down and came over, peering at Lucy with concern through her glasses.
    â€˜You look pale.’
    â€˜It’s been a rough few days, Sue,’ Lucy said, realising at Susan’s words how tired she felt. She hadn’t eaten all day either. Her stomach seemed to be continually filled with a feeling of creeping dread, leaving no room for food. Her emotions and moods were so up and down she had given up trying to track them.
    â€˜Your date didn’t go well then?’ Susan was the only person Lucy had confided in regarding her ‘date’ with Matt, and the mention of it made her blush.
    â€˜Well, that’s put some colour back in your cheeks. Spill,’ Susan demanded, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of juicy details.
    â€˜It was nice. We kissed. But I’m just not ready. We spoke and decided to stay in touch but I’m not sure…’ She tailed off as Susan held up an excited hand.
    â€˜Whoa. You kissed? Isn’t he, like, ridiculously hot?’
    Lucy grinned, finding it impossible to stay glum in the face of Susan’s enthusiasm.
    â€˜Yeah. He is. It was.’
    â€˜So the problem is…?’
    â€˜I started crying. He asked about Jack and it all kind of got too much.’
    Susan sat back on the desk, eyeing her friend with an astute gaze. Lucy wasn’t one much given to displays of emotion. She had been through so much; it would be awful if she started unravelling now. Personally Susan thought a good-looking police officer might be exactly what she needed.
    â€˜I’m sure he understands Lucy, and maybe you needed a good cry. Now that it’s out of the way, you can go out with him again.’
    Lucy shook her head at her friend’s pragmatism.
    â€˜It’s not that simple.’
    â€˜And why not?’
    Why not indeed! There was the fact that Jack’s murder was always going to be between them, and then there was the fact that Lucy’s original reason for dating him was to suss out what he knew of Prince’s whereabouts. The reaction she had had to him – to his touch – had unnerved her. He had phoned her again the night before and been friendly but neutral, asking after her and Ricky. No offer for another date, which she had to admit had disappointed her.
    Susan’s words followed her home, but once she had got in and kicked off her shoes the despondency crept back in. Ricky was out, having left a note next to the half-eaten stew she had left in the pot for him that morning. It felt like her remaining son was slipping away from her too; even though she knew he needed more freedom now he was getting older, some days she looked at him and felt like she didn’t know him at all.
    She was staring at the wall, seeing nothing, when the phone rang and she instantly sprang to her feet.
Matt.
    Except it wasn’t.
    â€˜Lucy Wyatt?’ an unfamiliar female voice asked for her.
    At least they got my name right this time
. ‘Yes, speaking,’ she said without trying to hide her wariness.
    â€˜I’m calling about your son.’
    Instantly she was on alert.
    â€˜Ricky? Is he okay?’
    â€˜Your other son, Ms Wyatt.’
    Lucy closed her eyes and counted to ten.
    â€˜I’m not interested in making any further comments about my son,’ she said, although her hand around the receiver was shaking. Why couldn't they just leave her alone?
    â€˜I’m not a reporter.’ The woman’s voice was cloyingly sweet, a tone that was no doubt meant to be soothing but set Lucy’s teeth on