“Oh this is so very lovely, Deborah,” constituted Leylo’s greeting when she opened the door to them. “Hello, my dears,” she said to the siblings. “I am Leylo and here is Yasir.” And when everyone was inside and the door was closed, “I have cool tea and biscuits. And Yasir has only just returned with juice and fizzy water. What may I bring to you? Oh please, do sit.”
“I recommend Leylo’s cool tea,” Deborah told them. “It’s very good.”
Yasir shepherded them in the direction of the sitting room and Deborah could see that, at once, both Simisola and Tani were mesmerised by the wealth of African art the room contained. Tani gravitated at once to the masks, Simisola to the glass-topped case of goldweights, much as Deborah had done.
“My guilty pleasure,” Yasir said to Tani, referring especially to what hung on the wall.
“These’re wicked, man,” Tani said. “Where’d you get ’em?”
“Various places in Africa. On many, many travels,” Yasir said. “Which do you like best?”
Tani crossed his arms and studied them seriously. “Tha’d be hard to say.”
“They are very special, yes.” Leylo was entering the room with a wooden tray. She set this on the coffee table. “Please, please. Ah, Simisola, I see you like the goldweights. As did Deborah, you know. You must take one if you wish.”
Simi at once hid her hands behind her back. She said, “I mustn’t.”
“You may if you wish to,” Leylo said.
Simi returned to gazing at the goldweights. But she kept her hands behind her back despite Leylo’s friendly invitation. Her expression was enchanting: part of her lower lip sucked in as before, the tops of those two very white teeth a pleasing contrast to her skin. Deborah couldn’t resist. She hadn’t brought her camera, but she had her mobile, so she took the girl’s picture. Then she took a second of Tani and Yasir in conversation. Tani was in profile, smiling. It was the first time she’d seen him smile.
She’d placed her wrapped package next to the tray that Leylo had brought into the room and now she said, “You must open it,” which Leylo did, crying, “Oh, this is too much. You are too kind,” when she saw the photograph Deborah had taken the last time she’d been there. “Yasir, you must look to see what Deborah has brought to us.”
He went to her side and she handed him the portrait. He nodded thoughtfully as he studied it. He said to Deborah, “You have caught the difference. I only see it fleetingly on her face, but now I can see it whenever I look at this. Thank you. You are a true artist.”
Deborah felt herself going red in the face from the compliment. “I love making portraits. That’s all it is. And Leylo is a very good model.”
He set the framed photo on the end table near to where Tani was standing. Tani looked at the picture. Then he looked at Leylo, then at Deborah.
“Yasir’s right,” he said. His expression was not what it had been before. His face had completely softened. He directed his attention to his sister. He said, “She’s real good with her camera, Squeak. Maybe she c’n snap you and me sometime, eh?”
“I already have done,” Deborah told him. “I’ll show you how the printing is done when we get back to Chelsea. If you’re interested, I mean.”
He was quiet for a moment, perhaps considering her offer and what it meant. Finally he spoke. “That’d be good,” he said.
WESTMINSTER
CENTRAL LONDON
“Holiday camp, Barbara! Just think of it. Think of the fun! It’s exactly like the holiday camps we all went to as children with our families. You know what I mean. The family goes to a holiday camp on the seaside—that’s where these things are generally located—and every little thing is provided for them. All they must do is simply show up.”
Barbara had only just arrived back in central London from her tête-à-tête with Ross Carver. Together they’d done a bit of internet research, and she’d had Dorothea make copies of a printout given her by Carver, which had ultimately opened the door to this unfortunate colloquy when Dorothea brought the copies along. Barbara said to her now, “Dee, can we possibly talk about this later?” It was just her luck that she voiced the request as Lynley and Nkata were walking into the room.
Lynley said, as usual, “Where are we? Winston, will you fetch the DCs?” which apparently allowed Dorothea to seize the moment, for she was the one to reply with, “Just think of it, Detective Chief Superintendent Lynley.”