by A J McDine
Should Have Known Better
A J McDine
Copyright © 2020 by A J McDine
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Contents
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Exclusive bonus scene!
Afterword
About the Author
Also by A J McDine
Also by Cherry Tree Publishing
Foreword
I began writing this book in November 2019, a month before my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
David McDine was a journalist, press officer and author and I was proud to follow in his footsteps in all three careers.
While my go-to genre was psychological fiction, he wrote a series of swashbuckling historical naval adventures, the Lieutenant Oliver Anson thrillers.
When we were together we liked nothing more than talking about writing and books.
In fact, he was one of the first people to hear my initial plot ideas for Should Have Known Better.
As his illness worsened, this book became a refuge for me, a welcome distraction from the grief and heartache.
Sadly, he never had the chance to see the book in print - he passed away at the end of February 2020, three months before its publication.
I hope he would have enjoyed it.
DMcD, this one’s for you.
Chapter One
KATE
Kate Kennedy drained the dregs of her coffee, grabbed her car keys, and shot a desperate look at her watch.
‘Come on, Chloe!’ she yelled up the stairs. ‘We’re going to be late.’
Overhead a floorboard creaked and a door slammed. Footsteps pounded down the wooden staircase. Kate picked up her handbag and slipped her mobile into the back pocket of her jeans.
Chloe appeared in the doorway. Kate stared at her daughter in disbelief.
‘Go and get changed. You can’t go out looking like that.’
‘Like what?’
Chloe, wearing frayed denim hot pants, a pink crop top that showed a generous expanse of golden-brown midriff, and a pair of navy Converse, lounged against the doorframe.
‘Like a…’ Kate bit back the words. ‘Like you’re off to the beach. Today’s important. Wear that dress I bought you.’
Chloe rolled her eyes. ‘The one that looks like a curtain? Why on earth would I wear that? It’s hideous.’
‘It's not hideous. It’s pretty. It suits you,’ Kate said. ‘And you want to make a good impression, don't you?’
‘It’s a university open day, Mum. No-one’s going to notice what I’m wearing. I’m going to see if I like the look of them, not the other way around.’
‘But -’
‘Anyway, you said it yourself; we’re going to be late. There’s no time to get changed.’ Chloe selected an apple from the fruit bowl and smiled at her mother. ‘So are we going or what?’
Kate sighed inwardly and followed her daughter along the hallway and out of the front door. She’d learnt long ago that it wasn’t worth arguing with Chloe, who had an answer for everything. That’s why she’d make a brilliant lawyer.
But she was wrong about one thing. Someone did notice.
If Kate had been hoping the two-hour drive to Kingsgate University would give them a chance to catch up, she was disappointed. Chloe plugged in her earphones before she’d even fixed her seatbelt.
‘What are you listening to?’ Kate said, as she rammed the gearstick into first and pulled away from the house.
Chloe hit pause on her phone and took one earphone out. ‘What?’
‘I said, what are you listening to?’
‘A podcast.’
‘What’s it about?’
‘It’s one of those true crime ones.’
‘Like Serial?’
‘Serial’s ancient. This is a new one. It investigates cold cases.’
Kate stepped on the accelerator as they headed out of the village. ‘Old murders? You can plug it into the Bluetooth if you like. We can listen to it together.’
‘What, change the habit of a lifetime and turn off Radio 2?’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘Nah, you’re all right thanks. Anyway, you’d hate it.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Because it’s about a college student who gets murdered on her way home from a night out.’ Chloe looked sidelong at Kate. ‘Parts of her dismembered body were found scattered all over the campus.’
A kiss of cold air touched the back of Kate’s neck, making the hairs stand on end, and she grimaced. ‘Why on earth would you want to listen to something so gruesome?’
Chloe shrugged. ‘Because it’s interesting. It’s relevant. It’s real. They talk to her friends and family, the detectives and the police psychologist and they use new DNA technology to see if they can crack the case.’
‘And do they?’
‘I don’t know yet, do I?’
Kate’s grip on the steering wheel loosened. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘You go ahead and listen to your podcast. I’ll stick with Radio 2, the creature of habit that I am.’
Chloe tucked her hair behind her ear and popped the earphone back in.
Kate turned the radio up and let the inane chatter wash over her as the Mini ate up the miles. Why did every conversation with her seventeen-year-old daughter sound like an interrogation by the Gestapo? No matter how hard she tried to keep the chat light and friendly, she always felt as though she was cross-examining her. And Chloe always clammed up.
What happened to the ten-year-old girl who would chatter non-stop all the way home from school? For years Kate knew the minutiae of Chloe’s life, from the moment she woke up to the minute she fell asleep. What she’d had for lunch, what spellings she had to learn, what song they’d practised in recorder club, who had fallen out with who.
When Ch
loe had first started secondary school, she’d still told Kate about her day over a companionable hot chocolate at the kitchen table. When had it stopped? Probably at the beginning of Year Nine. Instead of joining her in the kitchen after school, Chloe would take her hot chocolate upstairs, muttering about homework. If Kate did ask about her day, Chloe gave her a conversation-stopping ‘fine’. It was easier not to ask. These days Kate had little idea how Chloe spent her time, let alone what went on in her head. And Chloe had no interest in Kate’s life beyond what she was cooking for dinner. Once so close, they were virtual strangers, and it made Kate’s heart bleed.
Traffic was light on the motorway, and they reached the junction for the university as the nine o’clock pips sounded.
Chloe took her earphones out, stretched and looked around with interest as they negotiated a series of roundabouts, heading towards the campus.
‘Are we nearly there?’ she asked, shades of her ten-year-old self just visible beneath the teenage veneer.
Kate resisted the urge to smile. Instead, she checked the dashboard. ‘Almost. Satnav says we’re about ten minutes away. How was the podcast? Did they find out whodunnit?’
‘Not yet, although my money’s on her boyfriend. Everyone knows you’re more likely to be killed by someone you know than by a random stranger.’
‘How reassuring.’ Kate paused. ‘You will be careful, won’t you? At uni, I mean.’
‘Seriously?’ Chloe shot her an incredulous look. ‘You’re worried I’m going to get murdered? I’m more likely to be run over by a bus. Or die in a plane crash. Or… I dunno… be electrocuted by a dodgy toaster. Come on, Mum, keep a sense of perspective. I’ll be fine, honest. Things like that don't happen to people like me.’
Chapter Two
KATE
Kate followed the long line of cars heading towards the university’s sports centre. As they pulled into the entrance, a marshal wearing a high-vis jacket gestured them to stop.
‘Here for the open day?’ he asked.
Kate nodded.
‘Once you’ve parked up, make your way over to the main building. A shuttle bus is operating between here and the campus. Have a great day.’
‘He was cute,’ Chloe said, as Kate reversed into a space and unclipped her seatbelt. ‘If all the boys here are that hot it’s definitely going to be my first choice. Sod Nottingham.’
‘Don’t you think you should be basing your opinions on the course and the law school’s reputation rather than whether the undergraduates are hot or not? You’re here to study, remember.’ Kate hated the prim tone to her voice. She was hardly in a position to criticise. But Chloe didn’t take offence. She tutted good-naturedly, muttered something about only being young once, and loped across the car park, leaving Kate scurrying in her wake.
An uncomfortable mix of middle-aged parents and their scowling teenage offspring were loitering outside the sports centre, waiting for the shuttle bus. A set of older parents in matching Berghaus waterproof jackets with identical twin boys; a blonde woman with an expensive-looking haircut and a Mulberry handbag who was trying to talk her monosyllabic daughter into signing up for the university’s hockey team; and two dark-haired men who at first glance looked so similar they could have been brothers but on closer inspection must have been father and son.
Kate turned to Chloe. ‘It’s a pain that the sports centre’s a bus ride away.’
‘Is it?’ Chloe said, not looking up from her phone.
‘Fares’ll be expensive. And you’ll have to factor in the extra time if you go to the gym or join a club.’
‘I’ll have a student bus pass. And when I pass my driving test and buy a car I won’t need to bother with the bus.’
‘You haven’t even had your first lesson yet. And how exactly are you going to afford a car?’
‘I’ll get a job, won’t I?’
‘Where?’
‘I don’t know, Mother. In the student union bar or something. There’s bound to be plenty of work.’ Chloe finally looked up and narrowed her eyes. ‘What’s that look for?’
‘What look?’
‘Like you think I’m totally naive or something.’
‘Jobs don't grow on trees and cars cost a fortune to run. You need to tax and MOT them, put petrol in them. Never mind the insurance, which will be astronomical for a new driver.’ Kate caught the eye of the dark-haired man, and they shared a wry smile at the artlessness of teenagers.
‘Why do you always have to be so negative about everything?’ Chloe said, forcing Kate’s attention back.
‘All I’m saying is that it would be better if the sports centre was on the main campus,’ she said.
‘Well, it isn’t,’ Chloe glowered. ‘So get over it.’
They sat behind the blonde woman and her daughter on the bus and Kate attempted to make amends.
‘Where d’you want to go first?’ she said brightly.
Luckily, Chloe wasn’t one to hold a grudge. ‘The law school, obviously,’ she said, reaching in her bag for the open day programme. ‘I want to check out the accommodation. And the library and student union. Oh, and the theatre, which is next to the library,’ she said, her fingers tracing a route on the campus map. ‘But the first thing I need to do is sign in, so they know I came.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Kate said, leaning back against the headrest and watching the streets change as they headed from the leafy outskirts of the city to the grittier centre.
Before long they passed an enormous sign welcoming them to Kingsgate University’s main campus. Chloe hitched her bag onto her shoulder and jumped to her feet as the bus came to a halt. Kate followed her off, and they trailed behind the other parents and kids towards a large round tent decorated with helium-filled balloons which danced and bobbed in the breeze.
Chloe gave her name to the woman at the desk, and was handed a prospectus, a free pen and a sherbet lolly on a stick in return.
‘Have you come far?’ the woman asked.
‘Kent,’ Chloe said. ‘Not too far, but far enough, if you know what I mean.’ She grinned, peeled the wrapper off the lolly and popped it in her mouth.
‘What a coincidence. We’re from Kent, too,’ said a voice. The dark-haired man and his son were two paces behind them. ‘Tunbridge Wells,’ he added.
‘We’re near Maidstone,’ Kate said. ‘Small world.’
‘It is indeed.’
She fished around for a pithy reply. ‘The M25 was lovely and quiet this morning.’
‘Wasn’t it? I said the exact same thing to Ben, didn’t I, Ben?’ He turned to his son who grunted a reply.
‘Next, please,’ said the woman behind the desk.
‘Come on, Mum,’ Chloe mumbled through a mouthful of lolly. ‘There’s a tour of the library in fifteen minutes.’ She grabbed her mother’s arm and began dragging her towards the entrance.
‘I’d better go,’ Kate said.
‘You’d better had,’ the dark-haired man agreed. ‘Have a good day.’
‘We will.’ Kate smiled. ‘You too.’
After the library tour, they trailed through the student union building and peered into the vast catered dining hall.
‘This is cool,’ Chloe said, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows and the two vast television screens on the walls.
‘Where’s the actual accommodation?’ Kate said, looking around.
Chloe waved the map under her nose. ‘It’s a fifteen-minute walk from the main campus. Don’t pull a face. I bet it only takes ten if you walk quickly.’
They marched through a scruffy housing estate following signs for the university’s halls of residence. Kate tried to ignore the graffiti on the walls and the black sacks sprouting like cancerous tumours on the rubbish bins at the front of every neglected garden.
‘I don’t like the idea of you walking through here on your own,’ she said, as a scrawny kid on a BMX bike careered out of an alleyway and almost knocked them flying.
‘You worry too much,�
�� Chloe said. ‘It’s no worse than walking through Maidstone on a Saturday night.’
Kate sidestepped a pile of dog mess. ‘If you say so. Funny that man and his son are from Tunbridge Wells, isn’t it?’
‘What man?’
‘You know, the man at the… oh, it doesn’t matter. Is this us?’
An undergraduate with a clipboard greeted them at a Kingsgate University sign and handed them a map listing the different types of accommodation.
‘Which is the one you liked the sound of?’ Kate asked.
‘Springett Court,’ Chloe said. ‘It’s one of the older blocks, but it has the biggest rooms. And views of the woods.’
Kate glanced at the estate. ‘Woods?’
‘They’re on the other side. But I’d like to see one of the newer blocks, too, so I can compare.’
The newer accommodation blocks were bright and functional, but the rooms were small, and the ensuite bathrooms barely larger than a cupboard.
‘How much are these?’ Kate asked. If she held her arms wide she could almost touch both walls.