Dying to Sin. Stephen Booth

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      Well, perhaps they’d actually arrest the villain and Cooper could cheer, too. But in the meantime, they had to get through a few more awful jokes.

      When Aladdin was over, they squeezed out of the theatre with the crowds, hoping to find somewhere to eat before all the restaurants filled up. It wasn’t the first Aladdin Cooper had been to. He remembered seeing the same show at the same theatre when he was a teenager. In fact, he thought he’d probably watched slightly different versions of it three or four times.

      There were only a handful of traditional pantomimes, and they seemed to come round regularly, as if on a strict rota. Cinderella one year, Mother Goose the next. But he’d sometimes heard of different stories being used. Peter Pan, Sinbad the Sailor, Robinson Crusoe. Robinson Crusoe? A story with only two characters? Maybe he’d have to be a bit adventurous one year and seek out somewhere that was doing the show, to see how they bent the plot to introduce a pantomime dame on to a desert island.

      In Victoria Park, the fair was in full swing. Among the fairground rides, a big wheel spun green lights across the park as it turned, and a carousel made the faces of the crowd glow with pink luminescence. Free mince pies and glasses of mulled wine were being handed out to visitors.

      This was by far the busiest time of year in Edendale’s social calendar. There was an E Division pub crawl planned for later in the week. Another annual tradition. This year, the officers organizing it had settled on a theme – seasonal ales, which they intended to track down all over town. There were plenty to be found. Every year, the breweries produced beers like Rocking Rudolph, Hark and Black Christmas.

      But Cooper wouldn’t get a chance to try them. He wouldn’t be with his colleagues on the pub crawl this week, as he might have been in previous years. His priorities had changed in the last twelve months. He wasn’t quite so single as he used to be.

      ‘Well, if you won’t come for Christmas with me, at least you won’t forget the baptism service on Sunday, will you?’ said Liz.

      ‘I’m looking forward to it. Yes, honestly.’

      Liz’s best friend had married a gym instructor two years ago, and their first baby was being baptized in Edendale on Sunday. He always thought ‘first baby’ when the subject came up, because he’d met the friend and he sensed she was the sort of woman who intended to have lots of children.

      ‘It’s church, so everybody will be dressed up, Ben.’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘You do have a suit and tie, don’t you?’

      ‘Oh, er … absolutely.’

      Cooper thought of his brother squeezing into a suit for the first time this year. Now that he was too old to attend the Young Farmers’ Club Christmas Ball, Matt’s only social occasion had been the end-of-term nativity play at Josie’s primary school. Unlike the pantomime, this production had varied the usual plot. There had been no appearances by Mary or Joseph. In fact, there wasn’t even a role for the baby Jesus. Instead, the nativity story had been told from the point of view of the Bethlehem inn keeper and his family, exploring the impact on their lives. Having to deal with a sudden influx of shepherds and wise men, for a start. Well, lots of Peak District landlords would sympathize with the difficulty of mixing tourists with the locals.

      Matt hadn’t been impressed by the production, though. He was turning into a real diehard traditionalist as he aged. New ideas upset him.

      Later this week, Ben would be singing with the police male voice choir in the Methodist church, a concert for senior citizens, followed by a children’s party. The old folk loved it, though, especially around Christmas time. It was good PR, too.

      Cooper recalled when he’d first met Diane Fry on her transfer to Derbyshire from West Midlands Police. She’d been scornful of everything in those days, so prickly that he soon developed the habit of letting her comments go by unnoticed. When he’d told her about singing in the choir, she had been predictably derisive. ‘Do you sing soprano?’ she’d asked. ‘No. Tenor.’ And he hadn’t even seen the barb until much later.

      Oh, well. Fry had mellowed a bit since then, hadn’t she? Surely she had. Cooper frowned slightly. There was always the possibility that he’d just become very good at letting everything pass him by.

      When he lifted his hand off the gear stick, Liz took his fingers for a moment and held them gently.

      ‘Thanks for coming to the panto with me, Ben.’

      On the road out of town that night, taking Liz home to Bakewell, Cooper felt content. Below him, the sprawling outline of Edendale was marked by a network of lights, but most of the Peak District lay in darkness. After all that had happened in his life, things seemed to be coming right at last. He’d found someone he cared about. And, above all, he was in the only place he’d ever wanted to live in the world.

      With a surge of blind rage, Diane Fry grabbed her sister’s arm and dragged her back, pulling her off balance and throwing her on to the bed.

      ‘Hey!’ gasped Angie, shocked by the sudden violence.

      ‘Angie, what the hell are you up to?’

      Diane could hear her voice coming out in a spiteful hiss. It sounded awful, but she couldn’t have changed it. Her throat was too tightly constricted by the flood of emotions overwhelming her. Anger, bitterness, a sense of betrayal. And other emotions she’d never experienced before, too fleeting to be pinned down and named.

      ‘Me?’ Angie tried to laugh it off, sitting up on the bed and straightening her sleeve as if it were just a family game, a bit of rough and tumble between siblings. ‘Sis, you know I’m always up to something. The original problem kid, that’s me.’

      ‘I’m not joking here. I want to know what you think you’re doing.’

      ‘Come on, Di. Lighten up.’

      Diane felt herself flushing angrily. She’d told herself she wouldn’t get angry with her sister. But here it was, all that rage, bubbling just below the surface. Anything could release it, a wrong word or an unguarded expression.

      ‘Don’t try to get round me, Angie,’ she said. ‘Just don’t try it. It might have worked once, but it doesn’t work on me now. Things have changed between us. I’m not your kid sister any more.’

      ‘Oh, really?’

      ‘Yes, really. You’ve got to start understanding that, or there’s no future between us.’

      ‘But that was always true, wasn’t it?’ snapped Angie. ‘We never had any future between us.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘We have a past, that’s all. That’s the only thing we share, the one factor we have in common. And that’s all it is – the past. We’d never have stayed together, Di. I know you couldn’t see it at the time, but I was always going to go my own way, and it wasn’t the same as yours. We’d have split up pretty soon, and you’d have gone off to your college and your police training feeling ashamed of your big sister. You ought to thank me for what I did. It was much the best way.’

      Diane felt the anger draining from her. It was replaced by a strange chill that СКАЧАТЬ