Coast Guards have scoured the bay to no avail and local police issued a statement to say they believe Miss Watts died of death by misadventure.
I turn to Mum. ‘Sheila! Do you think this is who Gran was talking about today?’
She looks as puzzled as I feel. ‘Maybe she knew her.’
‘In Broadstairs? But I thought Gran was from London.’
‘I think she lived all over before I was born.’
I pass the piece to Tom, who reads it. The fading light from the leaded windows casts a shadow on one side of his face. It has the effect of making his nose look crooked. He hands me back the article. ‘This has to be important,’ he says, glancing from me to Mum and voicing what we’re all thinking. ‘Why else would you keep an article for forty years?’
15
Theo
Theo has been watching his dad closely since he stumbled upon that newspaper article last week, finding excuses to pop over to the soulless mansion in between shifts, plucking up the courage to broach the subject of the couple in Wiltshire. His dad has never been open with Theo at the best of times, but lately every time Theo turns up at the house his dad acts as though he’s an intruder, questioning him on why he’s come over. Just once Theo would like his dad to look even a little bit pleased to see him. But he’s promised Jen he’d ask him. Jen, who wouldn’t be afraid to ask her warm, open family anything.
So here he is again, Tuesday lunchtime, before he starts at the restaurant. Why is it so bloody hard to broach the subject with his father? He’s a grown man. But when he’s around him he feels like that unsure teenager again, obeying his mother’s wishes to keep his mouth shut, to do what his father says so as not to upset him. To keep things on an even keel like she always did. To stop his father getting angry.
‘I don’t need any more food,’ his dad snaps, when Theo walks into the kitchen with his trusty cool-bag filled with a chicken curry and a cottage pie. ‘I’ve got a freezer full of them. I eat at the golf club most nights anyway.’
Honestly, Theo doesn’t know why he fucking bothers. God, he’d love to tell his father where to go. But even though his mum has been dead for fourteen years he can’t bring himself to do it. She’d be disappointed in him, he knows it.
‘Actually,’ says Theo, dumping the bag on the table. ‘I came here to ask you something.’ His heart pounds beneath his T-shirt. He imagines Jen behind him, encouraging him to continue.
‘What’s that, then?’ His father has one of his golf clubs in his hand and is buffing the end of it with a rag. He’d tried to teach Theo golf once, when he was thirteen. He bought him a set of his own irons and taught him the name of each one. Theo had hated every minute of it, but kept it up for more than a year to please him. But when his father realized Theo was never going to be any good, he lost interest in teaching him.
Theo takes a deep breath. ‘Last week when I came over I found a newspaper article on your desk. It was about this couple from Wiltshire who were doing some kind of renovations and found two skeletons in their garden. You’d underlined two women’s names and then there were the words, “Find Her”。’
His father stops polishing his club but doesn’t look up. Instead his muscular shoulders tense, and the tendon in his neck bulges. ‘Have you been snooping around my things?’
‘No, of course not.’
His dad stands up, golf club still in hand. For a wild moment Theo wonders if he’s going to smack him with it. His father is looking at him now. His blue eyes are icy. ‘Then mind your own fucking business.’
Theo tries to hide his shock. His dad hasn’t spoken to him like that in years. ‘Who are you trying to find?’
‘Did you not hear me?’ His dad moves two paces towards him. His face has darkened. The old familiar fear resurfaces in Theo.