AN: I've been having a bad time recently and the chapter isn't as well edited as I'd like. I kept a lot of it from the first draft of the story and I'd like suggestions on how to improve it.

'The shower's great in this hotel. You should try it,' Rita heard a man's voice say.

Groggily she opened her eyes. It took her a moment to realise Alfonso had said it and to connect the words with their meaning.

'I will, yeah. I notice you can open the door to the bathroom without it slamming into the toilet.' Supposedly four stars, their room at the convention centre had suffered from that problem. The new hotel Alfonso had chosen was near Plumstead station, a 25-minute walk from his brother's house, although it didn't seem to be near anything else. Through different train and tube lines the journey had taken just under an hour. It had pissed down with rain by the time they had arrived, adding to the dismal feel of the day.

'That's the bare minimum,' Alfonso said with a dry chuckle.

Getting into Room 16 with the damaged card they had been given had proven more difficult than she or Alfonso had anticipated. Once she had finally unlocked the door, Rita had dived onto the huge, grey double bed, tried to read a few more pages of her vampire thriller but had been defeated by exhaustion. She'd fallen asleep before getting past the third paragraph.

Now she rubbed her eyes, watching Alfonso get dressed at the side of the bed. Her suitcase still half blocked the door, an awkward angle near the wardrobe. She reached for her work phone and turned it on. 20:00, and everything here closed so early. 'How long was I asleep for?'

'I don't know. I've not long woken up myself. We both clearly needed it.' He touched her hair. 'I need to get ready to go to Federico's.'

'Federico's?' His statement stunned her. 'I'm not sure, Alfonso.'

'Yeah - he asked us over for dinner this morning. Don't feel you have to - at all. But I thought I had better go, given everything.'

Slowly it came back to her. He had asked them. Before Alfonso had told her the full story - before the murder - she had unthinkingly agreed. 'I don't know. After what you told me, I'm nervous of going. Besides, I'm no good at socialising. I have nothing to talk about.'

'Federico says Matteo has gone somewhere and he doesn't know when he's back. I just feel like - whatever's going on, I need to support my brother. You know?'

'OK. I'll come. I'd rather be with you.'

'Are you sure?' Alfonso's voice held a note of caution.

'Of course I'm sure.' Rita staggered out of bed and pulled out some stuff to wear after the shower. A nice looking pair of leggings and a long sleeved shirt that she'd recently got on a market. Then she drank a glass of water and got up for a shower. The hot water helped her worries ease. Alfonso was right, the shower was great. It reminded her of the one in her refurbished flat. Everything was done, except for a small area of broken tiles in the living room to remind her of Pepelito.

It was 8.30 when they left their room and walked downstairs. One of the lights in the corridor had started flickering. It gave the hotel a reassuringly unsanitised feel. They stepped through the door past a small retro wooden reception booth that she had barely noticed when she arrived. Their new hotel was more shabby, but less soulless, with a cosier feel rather than that impersonal convention centre vibe. It felt smaller, more compact. It didn't feel like a place with many secrets. It felt comfortable, even pleasant.

Outside, the cold air was crisp as Alfonso slipped his arm through hers. The street was dark; many of the lamps had been turned off to save money.

She took a mental note of the hotel's location, on the corner of a residential street and a row of shops. It had a white pebbledash front, and was a far older building than the gleaming conference centre, although it had been refurbished. A sign outside said 'Ornata' with an O with rays coming out of it. The door was made of metal and plated glass. It reminded Rita of submarines in old films.

Cars rushed past on a busy road a few streets away. They climbed a slight hill. The route to Federico's house was twisty and turny with more uneven pavements. As it wound, she squashed down the dread she had of seeing Matteo. Or bumping into someone else from the hotel who wanted something from her, or needed to tell her something 'important'.

'I read a little of that book on the train,' Alfonso said in a grim tone, breaking the silence. 'I'll say this - he's confident. He definitely thinks he's solved the mystery of Jack the Ripper.'

'Dios mio, he gave me the creeps, especially with what Sandra said. Although - she was so bitter. Something really wasn't right with her.' Rita had looked the murder up after Sandra had left and they had finally been able to eat, but Google had not revealed anything, except a local news article from 12 years ago behind a paywall.

'She lost her sister,' Alfonso said. 'If he's seriously guilty and got away on some technicality, that's going to fuck you up.'

'Maybe.' Rita felt a pang inside. She couldn't easily relate to that kind of depth of feeling about her family. Maybe that made her broken but she didn't care. Maybe her dad - but in that case, she would be first to suspect one of her other relatives as the murderer. Her real family was the Policia Nacional, had been ever since she got her first job.

The closest thing she'd ever have to a child was Pepelito, with his uncomplicated love.

'How's your face, she shoved you pretty hard?'

'I'm OK. It throbs a bit but nothing lasting, I don't think.'

'Down here,' Alfonso said, gesturing to a longer, narrow road. 'Number 194 I think.' The pavement was easier to walk on here; smoother and more even. The road was better lit.

Poor Sandra.

Rita pictured the mess of luggage she had been carrying around, the bag full of clothes that seemed like they were several sizes smaller, designed for a much younger, more stylish woman, risqué underwear poking out the top. 

Charity shop donations? Stuff she couldn't bear to get rid of? It had been weird; so out of sync with everything else about her.

No. 194 was a nondescript house with a white front and a thick black door. There was a straggly rose bush by the door. Alfonso pressed the doorbell and waited. At first, nothing happened, although the lights were on. Then, there was a thudding noise from the back.

Federico unlatched the door. 'Oh, come in,' he said in Spanish. He hugged Alfonso and shook Rita's hand effusively. 'Nice to meet you at last! I've heard so much about you.'

'It's great to meet you too.' Rita stepped over the threshold, her nervousness starting to ease.

She took off her shoes and put them on a rack in a hallway crowded with coats, bags and shoes of different types. Federico had made minimum effort to tidy up and Rita kind of liked that. She hung up her coat on a peg and three other coats immediately fell off.

'Oh, don't worry, just hang it over the end of the stairs,' Federico said. As Rita did so, a cat came trotting down the stairs, a short-hair with beige coloured fur. Rita's mouth twitched upwards at the sight of such a gorgeous animal. The cat's whole body vibrated with a purr as she stroked him.

'Wow, he's beautiful,' she said.

'Yeah, he is. That's Jerry,' Federico said. 'I have three. One is out.' He and Alfonso walked into the living room. After another few minutes with the cat, Rita followed them. In contrast to the hallway, the living room was fairly tidy. It was the same size as hers at home. There was a table and a few chairs set behind two ancient, chestnut coloured leather sofas crisscrossed with scratches.

'Well, sorry, but I haven't cooked anything yet,' Federico said, as Rita stood admiring the creature. 'I thought we could get a pizza. What do you think?'

'Sounds good,' Rita said. She added quickly, 'As long as the pizza is vegan.'

Federico gave an amused snort. 'Ah, you're as bad as my brother, then. I should have guessed. Let me get you a drink.'

Rita pulled up a chair beside the table. I'll let it go, she thought. 'Sure, I'll have some wine, the stronger the better. I think I need it after the last 48 hours.'

Federico disappeared back into the kitchen and returned moments later with wine, beer, a packet of crisps and a striped bowl. He poured Rita's glass almost full, before sitting down heavily. Rita's stomach was starting to growl. She took some of the crisps, and a warm weight plopped into her lap. Sharp claws dug against her trousers as another cat, a striped grey and white one, started kneading on her leg.

'I miss having a cat,' Rita said, her hand stroking the animal's soft fur. Gloria had helped her through a nightmare divorce. Rita still became tearful when she thought about her last days.

'Hola, Pepperoni. This one knows where she'll get some attention,' Alfonso said. He sat down and patted the feline on the head as she settled in Rita's lap, emitting a similar tractor-like purr to the first one.

'I'm sorry about my son. I thought he was getting beyond all that. I'll be having serious words with him when he gets back home. Whenever that is,' Federico said, pulling up a chair. It was the first time Matteo's name had been mentioned here. Rita took a quiet breath, watched Alfonso give a furtive glance towards the living room door. She concentrated on the cat's breathing as her body rose and fell.

'I'm sorry. It doesn't sound like things are easy,' she said.

Federico shook his head and drunk most of his very large glass of wine. 'Ah. We'll survive.' He took out his phone and showed Rita and Alfonso a pizza. 'It's OK? One each for you?'

'Sure,' Rita said.

'Good, because it's the only vegan one on the menu.' He chuckled as he made the order. '20 minutes.'

Rita took some more crisps, then checked her phone. Emelina's latest update provided a respite from the weird mix of conviviality and tension. 'Can you believe it! Marta's pregnant now. Either we were too late separating them all or somehow, they are getting over our fence in the middle of the night 😆'

Rita leaned back in her chair, smiling to herself at the small black cow who'd been following Chicero around, mooing at him endlessly. 'Oh. We know who's responsible, lol.'

She found herself tearing up. There was a special place in her heart for the beautiful but timid grey bull who had been through so much. While still nervous and frightened at times, living at Santuario Colmenar had brought out his playful personality, his love of swimming and getting around obstacles. Once, Chicero had even stood guard over 'antique hunters' who had dug a hole in their field looking for coins and couldn't get out.

'😂 He's come so far 💙' She sent the message, then soundlessly gave the phone to Alfonso, not trusting herself to speak.

'That will be a cute looking calf,' he said softly, sipping his beer. He smiled and squeezed her hand tight, then ruffled Pepperoni as she slept. 'I wouldn't bet on those two being the last.'

She grinned at the thought, squeezing his arm. The wine made everything more vivid. Thinking of the animals living the lives they were always meant to live grounded her and gave her hope. She took another sip from her glass and tried to picture their lives. But as she did someone knocked on the door, loud and sharp, and something twisted deep in her gut.

Federico got up and walked out of the living room. 'That can't be the pizza. It's way too early.'

From the hallway, there was a soft jangle as he unlatched the chain on the door.

Sitting out of sight in the living room, she realised before their uninvited guest said it.

'Good evening. Is Matteo with you?' DS Mackie spoke all too clearly. 'We need to clear some things up.'

'No, I don't know when he's back,' Federico stammered in English, and sweat rose up Rita's back. Despite all the things she rationally knew, that you never knew what went on behind closed doors, she felt terrible for him. 'What's this about? Madre mia, if I'd known he was up to all that shit again - I just didn't know, he said he went to a friend's...shall I call him?'

'What shit?' Rita mouthed at Alfonso. He seemed as stunned as her. The cat stretched and leapt onto her shoulder, sharp claws digging under her top. She winced, stifling a cry, as Pepperoni plopped onto the floor and dashed away.

'Honestly, Rita, I don't know,' Alfonso whispered.

In the hallway, DS Mackie cleared his throat. 'Yeah, please. Give him a call.'