‘The police will want to talk to you at some point, but only because you owned the cottage and …’
A flash of panic flits across Gran’s face. ‘The police?’ She looks wildly about her as though expecting them to be behind her.
‘It’s okay. They’ll only want to ask you a few questions. Nothing to worry about. It will only be a procedure. Something to tick off their list.’
‘Is it Lorna? Is Lorna dead?’
I swallow my guilt. ‘No, Gran. Mum is in Spain. Remember?’
‘Wicked little girl.’
I release Gran’s hand gently and sit back in my chair. Gran is mumbling to herself again. I’m not going to get anything more from her today. I should never have mentioned the bodies. It was unfair. Of course she’s not going to know anything about them. Why would she? Instead I reach over and help Gran with the jigsaw in companionable silence, just like we used to do when I was a kid. Edges first.
5
Theo
Theo pulls up onto the driveway, parking his old Volvo next to his father’s black Mercedes, which looks like a hearse. The old, rambling house looms over him like something from a horror film, eclipsing the sun and causing him to shiver. He hates the place. Always has done. His friends thought it was impressive when they visited, which was rarely – he tried to keep them away as much as possible – but the depressing grey stone and the ugly gargoyles that peer down from the roof as if they’re about to swoop still give him the creeps. The house is much too big for an elderly man living by himself. Theo doesn’t understand why his dad refuses to sell it. He doubts he holds on to it for sentimental reasons. A status symbol, he imagines. Theo has never felt the need to show off about what he’s got. Not that he’s got much in the material sense, but that’s not how he measures his self-worth anyway. Another thing his dad doesn’t understand.
He lets himself into the cavernous hallway with the wood panelling and the winding staircase that he has hated with a passion since his mother’s death, and the deer heads on the wall. Those heads gave him nightmares as a kid. He breathes in the familiar smell of woodsmoke and floor polish. His dad has a housekeeper, Mavis, who comes in every few days to do the cleaning and his washing but she’s not due in until tomorrow.
‘Dad! It’s Theo,’ he calls. There’s no answer so he darts upstairs to the study, which is at the front of the house, the rubber soles of his trainers squeaking against the polished floor. His father spends a lot of time in his study, doing what, Theo can only imagine. He’s been retired for years.
He opens the study door and he can tell instantly his dad is in one of his moods, anger seeping off him. His large face with the familiar flat nose that Theo has inherited is redder than usual. Even the bald spot on the top of his head is pink, poking through the remains of his wispy white hair.
When he acts like this Theo thinks his dad is a prick. He actually thinks his dad is a prick most of the time even when he’s not behaving like a spoilt child rather than the seventy-six-year-old retired consultant that he really is. He wonders what’s set him off now. It doesn’t take much. Mavis has probably put one of his golfing trophies back in the wrong place. Theo is grateful he doesn’t have to live with him any more.
Theo has only popped over to check on him. Like he does every week. Because even though his dad hasn’t been the best father, or the best husband, he feels a sense of duty. And he knows it’s what his mum would have wanted. Theo is the only family his dad has left. And sometimes, when his dad forgets to act like a total dickhead, in his more vulnerable moments, like when they sit side by side watching a film together on the sofa and he falls asleep, his face looking peaceful and old with his chin resting on his chest, he feels a rush of fondness towards him. And then his dad will wake up and turn back into his grumpy, demanding self and the sympathy Theo had been feeling, just moments before, evaporates.
Despite all this Theo tries to cut his dad some slack. He understands that losing his wife – Theo’s mum – fourteen years ago was devastating. Caroline Carmichael had been only forty-five when she died, and so vibrant, so caring. Her loss has left a gaping hole in their lives. Not that his father would admit to any feelings. Showing vulnerability is a weakness, according to him. He prefers to hide his emotions behind his gruff exterior. Despite this, Theo has always felt a grudging respect for him. He’s a brilliant man. Exceptionally clever and hugely talented in his field. Even now, after retiring, he still writes papers for medical publications.