“None of my business,” said Annie.
“I just wanted you to know. That’s all. And he’s really great with Ian. The two of them just get along so well.”
“Where do you think Michael might be?”
“Well, he said he was going to meet someone about a job, and after that he might go and drop in on his dad later. They aren’t on the best of terms, and it worried Michael. He knew he’d upset his father and let him down, especially after his mum left. He acted up, stole a car and all. I’m sure you know all about that, being police. They had a serious falling-out. They got over it to some extent, but things are still . . . well, difficult. I think it’s partly my fault, you know, being older, having a child. His father doesn’t approve.”
“Did he say where he was going on this job?”
“No.”
“Was that unusual?”
“No, not really. He doesn’t always give a full account of his comings and goings. I don’t expect him to. I find that sort of thing can stifle a relationship, don’t you?”
Chance would be a fine thing, thought Annie. “And he said after that he might drop in on his father, even though they were on bad terms?”
“Yes.”
“Has he done this before? Stopped out all night?”
“No. Not like this. I mean, once or twice he’s stopped over at his father’s, if they’ve had a few drinks, like, and got to talking, or if it’s really late. But he always phones or texts.”
“Not this time?”
“No, nothing. I’ve tried ringing him, and texting, but I got no response.”
“No need to worry,” Annie said. “His mobile’s probably run out of power.”
“It’s always doing that. Like his camera. He’s not very good with keeping his stuff charged.”
“Which mobile provider does he use?”
“Virgin pay-as-you-go.”
“Did you phone the farm? I noticed Mr. Lane has a landline when we were there earlier.”
Alex glanced away. “Yes. His father just grunted, like, said he hadn’t seen him. Then he hung up.”
“You said that Mick Lane and his father still have a problematic relationship.”
“Michael. Yes.” Alex paused. “I can see you’re both a bit confused. I think I know what you’re thinking. I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re police, and you have a very narrow way of seeing things. You saw that Michael was on probation, that he did community service for the stolen car, and then you found out he was living with me, an older woman in a council flat, with an illegitimate child and a conviction for shoplifting. Well, you put two and two together and make . . . I don’t know what. Bonnie and Clyde, maybe? It’s only natural. I don’t blame you. Michael’s dad’s the same. But it’s not like that at all. I don’t deny I’ve done some bad things, and I got caught. I don’t know how I sank so low, but I did. I’ve had to face up to that. But people can change.”
“What happened?”
“Ian’s father walked out on me when Ian was little. I was flat broke. Lenny took everything, even emptied Ian’s piggy bank, the miserable bastard. We were hungry. They were taking ages to process my benefits. So I went to the Asda in the shopping center and started filling up my pockets. It was either that or sell my body, and I hadn’t sunk that low, though don’t think I hadn’t received a few offers from people who should have known better. You soon find out who your friends are when you reach rock bottom. I thought I was being careful, you know, but they had CCTV, store detectives, the lot. Took me in a room in the back and scared the wits out of me, pushed me about a bit, threatened me but stopped short of hitting me, then they called the police. Wanted to make an example of me.” She gave a harsh laugh. “A couple of hundred years ago they’d have sent me to Australia, and there’s some countries in the world today where they’d chop my hand off, but all I got was probation. I was lucky, I suppose. Child Care were round like a shot, of course, but I managed to hang on to Ian, if only because his dad had no interest in taking custody of him. God knows what I’d have done if I’d lost Ian. It was a bad time in my life. A very bad time. But it’s over now. I only needed the one lesson.”
Pity that doesn’t work for everyone, Annie thought, feeling some of her skepticism slough away. “And now?” she asked.
“I’m doing a part-time course. Travel and tourism. Eastvale College. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve dreamed of seeing the world. I’ve got a part-time job at GoThereNow—you know, the new travel agency in the Swainsdale Centre—just taking bookings for stag weekends in Prague or Tallinn and stuff. There’s not much money in it right now, but when I’ve finished the course, if I do well, I’m hoping to start leading some tour groups of my own. Today’s my day off.” She picked up a thick book about the history of Rome from the low coffee table. “Just doing a bit of homework. The history of the Coliseum.”
“Won’t you be away a lot?” Annie said. “If you’re leading tours. What’ll happen to Ian?”
“I’ll take care of Ian, don’t you worry about that. Michael and I will. We’ll work it out. Maybe they can come with me? Michael can take photographs for travel magazines.”
“Sounds ideal.”
Alex shrugged. “Besides, there’s school, and the neighbors are great. Well, most of them. Michael helps a lot, too, of course.”
“How did you meet Michael?”
“It was a year ago. He was up at the college seeing if he could get into a photography course through the back door. He likes taking pictures. Drawing, too. He’s very good at both, got a real eye. He did those.” She gestured to the photographs and drawings on the wall that Annie had thought were bought prints. The castle ruins at night. Someone, Mick’s father perhaps, shearing a sheep. The river falls in full spate. A charcoal head-and-shoulders sketch of Alex. Annie had an eye for good art and photography herself, and these were very good indeed. She told Alex so.
“Thank you, but to be honest, he might have the talent, but he doesn’t have the qualifications, not even A levels, so they turned him down. He spent too much time off school helping out around the farm when he was a young lad. He doesn’t have the right equipment, either. All Michael has is an old Cyber-shot. About six pixels. They’re up to sixteen or more these days. He needs a better camera, a DSLR, with all the lenses.”
“You understand about that sort of stuff?”
Alex cocked her head and gave Annie an appraising glance. “Of course. I’m not stupid. Look, we’re poor but we’re not destitute, you know. We both work, when we can. We’re careful with what we have—have to be—but he’ll get a new and better camera soon, especially if he gets into college and I make some progress in my job.”
“So you met at the college?”
“Student pub. He was a bit depressed when he came in, and I was serving behind the bar—my previous part-time job. The place was nearly empty. I was revising for my exams. We got talking over a couple of drinks. He told me about his mum leaving and how miserable he was up at the farm with his dad, how he’d gone off the rails a bit, stolen a car, he didn’t know why. Didn’t know why he was telling me, either. Neither of us really came on to the other. . . . It just . . . you know . . . happened. It felt totally natural. I was lonely, too. I’ve been here with Ian now for about six years. We got the place when I was still with Lenny and Ian was two, but these past four years we’ve been on our own. One thing led to another. Funny, but we never thought about the age thing. People say I look younger than I am, and Michael looks older than he is, more mature.”
Annie glanced at the photos on the mantelpiece again. Alex was right. They made a handsome couple, seemed natural together, and no casual viewer would notice an age difference. “Where’s Lenny now?” she asked.