The Corpse of St James's by Jeanne M. Dams

didn’t care much for this human, but he always wanted everyone to be happy.
    â€˜This is taking more courage than going after that little girl,’ I said presently.
    â€˜Yes. Moral courage is always harder than physical courage. There’s no adrenalin flowing, only the determination to do what’s right.’
    â€˜And it’s harder when you’re not even sure which course is the right one. That boy has a lot of guts.’
    â€˜Well, we knew that, didn’t we?’ Alan drew a small, imaginary cross on his left breast, just as Jonathan came back into the room.
    â€˜I’ll have to go to her,’ he said. ‘She took the news as well as could be expected, but she needs someone with her. Do you know when the next train leaves for Shoreham? I think that’s the closest station.’
    â€˜Nonsense. We’re driving you. Bramber isn’t far. We’ve been there, Dorothy. Remember that marvellous old house?’
    â€˜Oh, yes! St Mary’s. The Deans took us there. It took my breath away. Just let me get my bag, and a hat, and we’re off.’
    We stopped at the railway station to pick up Jonathan’s wheelchair, which Alan wrestled into the boot, and then set off down the country roads that led to Bramber.
    â€˜Jonathan,’ I said into a silence that was threatening to become awkward, ‘what about Jemima? Will Letty phone and tell her the dreadful news?’
    â€˜We talked about that. Not right away, she decided. Jemima doesn’t even know about Melissa running away this time. It’s all such a pity!’ He struck his armrest in frustration. ‘She was wilful and wayward, but she was bright. She could have made something of her life!’
    â€˜How old was she?’ I asked gently.
    Jonathan thought about that, counted on his fingers. ‘Fourteen,’ he said finally.
    â€˜Dear God.’ That was from Alan, and I knew he was thinking about his daughter when she was that age.
    After another few miles, Alan cleared his throat. ‘What are your plans, Jonathan?’
    â€˜I don’t have any, s— Alan. Except to try to give Letty whatever comfort I can.’
    â€˜I have a bit of information that may help you,’ Alan replied. ‘Dorothy, I meant to tell you as soon as I got home, but . . . well. At any rate, I stopped at the police station before I did the shopping. I thought there might be some news. They haven’t done a complete autopsy yet, but I can tell you, Jonathan, that Melissa – if it is Melissa, we still haven’t proved that, have we? – the girl in the park, at any rate, died of asphyxia, almost certainly suffocation, from other indications. Some foreign matter in the mouth. They haven’t determined what, as yet, but possibly a scarf or something of that sort, something soft. But the part that your Aunt Letty might find of some comfort, Jonathan, was that she had not been raped.’
    Jonathan and I let out a simultaneous long breath. ‘That’s a relief!’ I said. ‘I had been imagining . . . well, never mind.’
    â€˜However,’ said Alan, and my nerves tightened again. ‘She was not a virgin. She was, in fact, about three months pregnant.’
    This just got worse and worse. ‘I don’t suppose they could be wrong . . . no, of course not. But Alan! At age fourteen!’ I turned around to glance at Jonathan in the back seat. He sat so still I thought for a moment he’d gone to sleep, until I saw his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.
    â€˜Old enough,’ Alan said roughly. ‘One mistake, that’s all it takes. It’s happened before.’
    â€˜Are you going to tell Letty that, too?’ I asked. ‘Jonathan, I wouldn’t. She doesn’t have to know, and it would hurt her terribly.’
    â€˜No, Letty doesn’t have to know,’ said Alan, sounding weary. ‘But Jonathan, I’m afraid this