‘This is different. I can’t go back to her and say you’ve turned me down. I think it’d kill her. This thing’s all that’s keeping her going.’
We looked at each other for a full minute without speaking. He was steady-eyed, determined. I could feel myself wavering. ‘How do you and your sister feel about the prospect of another one, a half-sister, being sprung on you? Especially now.’
‘I’m interested. Annie’d hate it.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘She and Mum don’t get along. Haven’t for years. Annie’ll be upset when… when Mum dies, but she was closer to Dad. She’s got ambitions to go into business for herself. She’s in advertising, like Dad was. She’ll be thinking about the money. You know, Mum’s estate, and how it’ll be divided. I suppose if this girl does turn out to be our sister, Mum’ll change her will. That’s fine with me, but Annie? Shit, she’ll freak. Plus she’s pregnant herself. Just.’
‘I see. Haven’t you got enough on your plate, what with studying and your mother and that kind of trouble in the family?’
‘I told you I’ve suspended. That’s cool. I can’t do anything for Mum except what she’s asking me to – work with you. Annie’s not my problem. At least, not yet.’
I stalled. ‘What’re you studying?’
‘Environmental engineering.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Like, how to plan and build things that don’t fuck up the environment. So I could be useful on this Tadpole Creek thing, Mr Hardy.’
I drank some coffee and didn’t say anything.
‘I can drive, I’m good with computers and I can help you with that problem of yours.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Another thing Mum said. Along the same lines. She said you always tried to be in two places at once when you worked. With me, you can. And there’s something else?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m about the same age as the Talbot guy. I’m more likely than you to know how he thinks than you are. I can talk to his friends and stuff like that.’
‘He also sounds dangerous. How much danger have you coped with? Has your mother thought about that, I wonder?’
‘I’m a rock climber. I know about danger and how to be careful’
I was unconvinced but he had all the answers. I could play it that way for a while. ‘You’ve sold me. Okay, we’ll work together and you can report to Cyn on our progress. What’s wrong?’
His lean, bony face had split into a grin. ‘I’ve never heard anyone call Mum Cyn before. Dad called her Cynthia always. Cyn. I like it. I think I’ll have a drink now if you’ve got some beer or wine.’
‘Sure, why now?’
‘Well, I won’t be driving tonight, will I? I’ve got everything I need in the car.’
12
Geoffrey had a beer, rang his mother and left the message that I’d agreed to let him work with me, hauled a huge backpack in from his car and went to bed in the spare room. No-one had used it for a while and it was musty, but if he was going to hang around with me he’d have to learn to take the rough with the rougher.
I looked over the notes I’d written and the scraps of information I’d collected during the day. I picked up my shirt to toss it in the laundry basket and noticed a blonde hair clinging to it. The memory of Tess Hewitt came back to me sharply. I’d had strong feelings for her and I’d thought the attraction had been mutual. I stood by my bed and thought how long it was since I’d been close to a woman. The night was cold but it suddenly seemed colder. I got into bed, tracksuit and all, and turned out the light. I was tired and the Scotch had relaxed me. I got to sleep pretty quickly, but my feet were cold all night and I couldn’t wake up enough to pull the extra blanket over them. All I could do was pull them up, move around, and put them where something warm had been. It doesn’t work.
Geoffrey had been up for hours when I appeared about 7.30. He’d made coffee and burnt some toast. Not even the with-it young can cope with some people’s toasters. He was sitting in the kitchen trying to read the headlines on the still-rolled newspaper.
‘My dad hated anyone to get to the paper before him,’ he said.
‘I don’t give a stuff,’ I grunted. ‘Open ‘er up and do as you like.’
I poured some coffee and was pleased to see that he’d brewed it at about the right strength. ‘You set the toaster on light and it toasts medium, set it on medium and it toasts dark, set it on dark and it bloody burns,’ I told him.
‘I’m sort of handy. I might be able to fix it.’
‘I’m not. Feel free.’
He took the elastic band off the paper, unrolled it, glanced at the headlines on the front and back pages and passed it to me. ‘Would you call yourself a morning person, Mr Hardy?’
‘You are, obviously. I’d say I’m not exactly an early morning person. More latish morning. Okay after eight with some coffee on board. Look, we can do without the Mr Hardy stuff. Cliff’ll do. I’d prefer Geoff to Geoffrey if that’s all right.’
‘Sure. But why?’
‘Ever see The Lion in Winter?’
He shook his head. He’d shaved and combed his hair back but it was rebelling.
‘Get the video out and have a watch. It turned me off Geoffreys.’
He grinned, unplugged the toaster and took it to the sink where he shook the crumbs out. I read the front page of the paper while I drank the coffee. The content was ninety per cent economic and ten per cent sex. With the tabloids it’s the other way around. I’m not sure that either is healthy. Drugs rather than performance dominated the sports page. As a newly acquired habit, I opened up at the obituaries. An ancient bishop had died and a slightly older philosopher. Maybe they could sort it out in the hereafter. I sighed and put the paper away. Geoff wiped the toaster down and put it back on the bench.
‘Semi-buggered, Cliff,’ he said. ‘But it’ll probably last forever like that.’
I set it for medium and dropped in two slices of bread. ‘Geoff, that’s a bit like how I feel myself sometimes.’
He took the paper and turned to the cryptic crossword. Jesus, I thought, one of those.
He filled in a few spaces rapidly, then clicked his pen and looked at me. ‘So what’s our first move?’
The first move should have shattered any illusions about the romance of the private detective business Geoff might have entertained. We paid a call on Damien Talbot’s mother and got precisely nowhere. According to a neighbour, the police and the media had seen the woman and then she’d packed a bag and left without saying where she was going.
It wouldn’t have surprised Cyn that the second move I made with her son in tow was to call on a prostitute. I could’ve sent him off on some useless errand but I didn’t see any point in protecting him from the harsh realities, and I had an inkling of a real use I might have for him, so it was better if he was fully in the picture.
I’d rung Annette and made the arrangement to see her strictly on a business basis – my business, not hers. She chiacked me about it, but agreed to see me. A small piece of information I’d scribbled down had assumed significance.
Annette opened the door and posed. She wore a white satin blouse with long sleeves and lots of lace on the front, a white skirt, white stockings and shoes. She had a scrap of white silk in her hair.
‘My eleven o’clock gets off on his bride fantasies,’ she said. ‘Who’s your good-looking young friend?’
We stepped into the room and I nodded to Geoff to close the door. ‘This is Geoff. He’s learning the ropes.’
‘I could teach him a few tricks. You too, Cliff.’
‘I’m sure. Knock it off, Annette. Just a few questions. I’ll pay for your time.’
‘Two hundred. Three if you keep the groom waiting.’
‘I won’t.’ I gave her the money. We all sat. She rolled the notes tightly, hitched up her skirt and tucked them into the top of her stocking, making sure that we saw the suspenders and the lace panties.
‘Very nice,’ I said. ‘Now, you told me that Talbot was impotent.’
‘Right. It happens a lot. Poor things. But I don’t include him in that.’ She winked at Geoff who blushed furiously.