Twenty-Nine

I’m sitting in the car outside Archie’s school. Joanna is visiting Archie at this moment. She has forbidden me to accompany her. She’s enlisted the support of that smug little runt of a housemaster, who’s just been out to the car to shake my hand and assure me that, regrettably, he agrees with her that my presence will make Archie too agitated. I’ve refused his invitation to wait in the reception area with its plush tea machine. I suppose that he thinks that he’s just about been polite enough to persuade me to continue to pay his inflated fees. If he stopped to think at all, he’d realise that, however much I might despise him, I have no option but to continue sending Archie to the school, even when Joanna is no longer with us, unless Archie turns against the place. Archie himself pulls all the levers in that respect.

Joanna’s illness and her bizarre relationship with Sentance have not only imprisoned me completely, they’ve also wrong-footed me. I might as well be wearing a strait-jacket for my sins. If only I could get her to talk to me civilly, I wouldn’t feel so trapped. I don’t expect to receive any of the vestiges of love that she has left in her: I’ve come to recognise that the huge reservoir of affection and generosity with which she used to be filled has gradually seeped away with her pain. Mortal illness is more hideous than I could ever have imagined. The small stock of concern and fondness that she has left is all for Archie. Her son. She makes a point of emphasising that. Archie is my son. He’s my heir, if he’s ever well enough to shape up to it, but I’m not allowed to be his father. Except for Opa, fathers seem destined to fail in our family.

I’m mildly irritated by what that detective’s up to, but I know there’s no point in crossing him. I want him out of my hair as quickly as possible and now that he knows that Joanna has come home she’s removed my excuse to push him to hurry himself. I’m certain that Jean would have tried to stall him when he asked to search the house again, but I know there’s no point. It would have irritated him and he’d have got what he wanted in the end. Jean should confine herself to getting to the bottom of this passport business. I’ll tell her that next time we speak. Perhaps she’s working on it now: she seems to have gone to ground for the past forty-eight hours. She doesn’t know that Joanna’s back. Not that Joanna would consider that Jean is entitled to know her movements.

As if I’ve summoned her with my thoughts, my mobile rings and I see Jean’s number flash on to the display.

“Jean. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Kevan. What about you? Briggs tells me that Joanna’s returned to the UK.”

“It’s not up to Briggs to pass around information about my family. Why have you been in touch with him, anyway?”

“I rang you at home and he answered. He was there with Jackie. He said that she was there because the police were about to return. What exactly is happening? And why don’t you want me to know that Joanna’s back?”

“If Jackie’s still at the house, I don’t see why she’s asked Briggs to be there too. I shall have to speak to her about that. The police are still working on their investigation into the skeletons – it’s nothing to do with me or Joanna. I gave them permission to search further, therefore. It’s best that they think that I’m co-operating as much as I can. And I have no objection to your knowing that Joanna’s here: of course I don’t. But, equally, you will be aware that Joanna herself won’t be delighted to see you. I suggest that you continue your work on the passport business from your office as much as possible, now that she’s going to be at Laurieston again.”

“If you say so, Kevan. I know that we no longer have a . . . social relationship. You should have told me about the police, though. I could have stopped them from being so precipitate in their demands.”

“I agree that they only gave me short notice, but it actually suits me to get them to do as much as they can while Joanna isn’t there. I’ve explained this to them. She’ll be upset enough about it as it is.”

“You haven’t told her, then? About the skeletons?”

“No, not yet. She’s with Archie at the moment. That’s why she came home: because he appeared to be going into a relapse again. She didn’t want to stay at St Lucia on her own, anyway.”

“So he provided her with the perfect excuse to do exactly as she wanted?”

“Don’t go too far, Jean. What Joanna wants and how we arrange our lives is not your affair. What I particularly want you to do is find out where the police have got to with their enquiries into the passports. They’re not the only ones who want to get to the bottom of that. I want my name off their radar as soon as you can possibly manage it. I can try to use my influence with Superintendent Thornton if you think it will do any good?”

“It might come to that, but I’ll try other avenues first. I’ve met DI Yates before, on a case I worked on a couple of years ago. He’s shrewd, and also quite self-aware. It might backfire if we try to go over his head too soon.”

“Well, I’ll leave it to your good judgement. I’m sure that you’ll get the result that we want, one way or another. Christ!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Joanna’s coming back to the car. That little toad of a housemaster has got his arm round her. She looks as if she’s been crying.”

Jean ignores this.

“Do you want me to go to Laurieston and stay there with the police?”

“Certainly not. I’m intending to keep Joanna away from there for the whole of the afternoon, if I can, but if we should arrive back early and you’re there as well as the police, it will only make matters worse.”

“Charmed, I’m sure. Well, I’d better leave you to it, then. I’ll call you again tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” I switch her off, relieved. Another couple of minutes and I would have had to ask her to terminate the call.