‘Maybe we should hire a private detective,’ Nicholas said. He sounded quite excited about the idea.
‘I don’t think we need to go quite that far,’ replied Pip, bursting his bubble. ‘I was thinking of placing a small ad in the Evening Standard . I know it’s a long shot, but let’s start small. If that doesn’t work then maybe I’ll consider your private dick.’
Nicholas looked a little disappointed, but he nodded his agreement.
‘Don’t tell her though, will you?’ Pip checked. ‘I’d really like it to be a surprise.’
‘No. I won’t tell her, but could you let me know if you get anywhere? If he’s coming to the house, then we’ll need to have a bit of a tidy up. I’m not sure Aunt Evelyn would want anyone to see the current state of the place.’
‘I was thinking about that, too,’ said Pip. ‘I was wondering if I could help at all.’
‘I’m not sure how,’ replied Nicholas. ‘I’ve tried to get her out from under all that crap, I really have. The box I brought here is testament to that.’
‘And that went so well,’ muttered Pip under her breath.
‘But she won’t have anyone in the house, and she won’t let me touch anything. She can be downright difficult when she wants to be.’
Pip didn’t doubt it. ‘Well, maybe I could have a word with her. About the mess, I mean,’ she said. ‘I get the impression she’s had enough of it, too, but doesn’t know where to start. Maybe between the three of us . . .’
Nicholas looked unsure. It seemed that if there were sorting to be done, it would be she and Evelyn who did the bulk of the work, but she found she didn’t mind the prospect. It might be good to have a project, something to really get stuck into.
Then Nicholas stuck his hand in the breast pocket of his jacket and retrieved another business card. He handed it to Pip. ‘Here’s my number,’ he said.
Pip took it, not wanting to reveal that she had an exact copy sitting in her bedroom at home.
‘Perhaps we could go out for a drink, chat it all through,’ he said.
Was he coming on to her? Pip wasn’t sure. She had lost all radar for that kind of thing over the last few months. She hoped not, though. He really wasn’t her type. Then again, she had thought Dominic was the perfect man for her, but now she wasn’t sure what she had ever seen in him.
‘That would be nice,’ she replied, without making a commitment. ‘But now I ought to be getting back to my window.’ She cocked her head in the direction of the half-naked mannequin. ‘I can’t leave her like that. The poor lamb has no dignity. I’ll be in touch.’
And then she skipped back into the shop, leaving Nicholas looking slightly flummoxed on the pavement.
That evening at home she put together a small ad for the Evening Standard . She really didn’t have that much to go on and she didn’t want to attract the attention of all and sundry. In the end she settled for:
Looking for Ted.
Friends with Evelyn Mountcastle, 1980.
She created a new email address specifically for the purpose and added it to the message. Then she went on to the website and set the ball rolling.
44
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ said Pip’s mother over dinner the next day, ‘but I told Jez you’d take him out for a drink tonight. He’s so low with all that Teresa business and he just looked as if he needed cheering up.’
A month ago, Pip would have considered herself to be worse company than Jez, but over the last few weeks things had begun to change. Finding the diary and meeting Evelyn had given her something other than herself and her own misery to focus on, and that had been refreshing. But if she let herself think about her general sense of improvement, it had the reverse effect and made her guilt worse. How dare she let things move on for her when the boy’s family would always be living in a half-light? As soon as she began to feel a little better, the familiar sense of self-reproach became larger and darker. It was like taking one step forward and two steps back.
However, her conversation with Evelyn had given her food for thought. Getting on with her life didn’t necessarily mean she had forgiven herself or forgotten what had gone before. But it certainly went a long way to making her day-to-day existence more stable.
Jez was a friend in need and again, as with Evelyn, it was her trying to help rather than being helped by someone else. It felt good.
‘That’s fine,’ she said to her mother. ‘It’ll be lovely to see him. What time did you say?’