Ten minutes later, Evie was in the passenger seat as Astrid drove into town. She could have ignored the key and waited for the lawyer to get in touch, but something about the younger Church child left her wanting to spend more time with her. And she might learn more about Adam from his sister.
Evie dragged a dark shade of rouge over her lips as the car entered the high street. Astrid looked to the passenger seat at her new companion.
‘What did you mean about you and your brother’s obsessions?’
Evie peered at her reflection in the mirror so intently, Astrid wondered if she was in shock from being away from the Tranquil Waters Rest Home.
Is this a good idea, having her tag along with me while her brother sits in a cell accused of a double homicide? I don’t even know why she admitted herself to that facility seven years ago.
The red sparkled on Evie’s lips as she spoke. ‘Do you think all children disappoint their parents?’
Astrid peered at the road as she spoke. ‘I suppose some parents deal with their kids better than others.’ She tried not to think of her father and mother, who always lurked inside the darkest corners of her mind.
‘Well, Adam and I certainly were doozies where Mom and Pop were concerned.’ She rubbed at the red on her lips, so it looked like blood stained her fingers. ‘I’m not sure which one of us infuriated them more, but I hoped it was me.’ She tapped on the window. ‘Pull up here. I need to go into that shop.’
Astrid didn’t argue, starting to question letting Evie join her and contemplating leaving her here in Eureka Falls.
It’s her home town, so how bad could it be? But if she starts to open up about her life and her brother, perhaps it will help me discover what happened to those girls in the Church house.
She found an accessible parking spot in front of the shops.
‘Do you want coffee?’
The coffee shop appeared empty, apart from an old couple peering out of the window.
‘No. I need to go into the bookshop next door. You can wait here. I shouldn’t be long.’
Evie bolted from the car as if the solution to all of life’s mysteries were inside that place and nearly fell through the entrance.
She said she loves reading, so perhaps she’s just missed being in a bookshop.
Astrid turned off the engine and followed her. She walked towards the shop, admiring the antique lettering on the window until she realised the paint had started to fade over the words Kennedy’s Book Emporium.
The wood was cold to the touch as she pushed the door open. The store was long and narrow, stacked with a mixture of new and second-hand books. Down the middle was a table of Sale Specials covered in a thin layer of dust. The place appeared to be as empty as the street outside, with no sign of staff or Evie. She seemed to have disappeared. Was this all a ploy to get out of the residential home and give Astrid the slip? Considering she could have left that place at any time, it seemed unlikely.
This was her chance to return to the car and drive away. But what then? The only other option available to her was waiting for Adam to retain a lawyer, then going through what the police had and checking the house. But if the law were confident of Adam’s guilt, it would be difficult to prove his innocence without uncovering new evidence.
Evie’s laugh gave her position away. She spotted her down the far end of the shop, flicking through a brightly coloured hardback. She held it up as Astrid approached her.
‘I can’t believe some of the stuff people publish.’ She pointed to the top of the page. ‘This guy claims we’re all descended from space lizards.’ She shook her head as she flicked through the pages.
‘Shouldn’t we be getting to your house, Evie?’ Astrid liked nothing better than browsing through old books, but there were more pressing things on her mind.
Evie dropped the book on to a table. ‘Soon. I need to speak to the proprietor first.’
She strode towards the desk at the end and knocked on the faded wood. Astrid inhaled the aroma of dusty novels and yellowed pages as they waited. She glanced through the bulging shelves, scanning through the categories and wondering how many residents of Eureka Falls spent time there when they could download thousands of digital books for free just with the click of a button.
Was that why most of the shops on the high street were closed, because most people shopped online? She pictured a point, perhaps in the next fifty years, when nearly all entertainment would be electronic, and most material possessions would only be sought after by collectors. As much as she enjoyed reading and listening to music on her phone, she knew the world would lose something important once that happened.
Evie knocked again, pulling in her shoulders as a man in his late forties appeared from behind a curtain on the other side of a desk. His face was red with some irritable-looking skin condition, his mop-top early Beatles hair dyed black. His eyes sparked into life when he saw the two of them.
‘How can I help you, ladies?’ His teeth were brilliantly white, exhibited in a smile straight from a Hollywood special-effects studio.
Evie clapped her hands together. ‘It’s me, Mr Kennedy, Evie Church. You told me to come and see you when I was ready. You know, about my stories.’
Astrid watched Kennedy’s face change from sunshine to stormy in an instant.
‘Evie, er… Evie, this is, is, unexpected.’ The stutter hadn’t been there before.
‘Well, Mr Kennedy, circumstances have taken a somewhat dramatic turn in my life which necessitated me leaving the place I’ve called home for the last seven years. But, it does mean I can see you and discuss what we talked about in our emails.’
Astrid observed the two of them, learning more about this unusual woman by the second. Evie’s fingers tapped against the air as if she was playing along to music only she heard. He wiped the sweat from his forehead even though it was cool in the shop.
He glanced at Astrid.
‘Perhaps we should talk about this in private, Evie.’
‘Fiddlesticks, Mr Kennedy. Astrid is my new best friend in the world. I’ve no secrets from her.’
He flicked his startled eyes from Astrid to Evie. ‘Well, Evie, I’m afraid I have some bad news.’
He paused and stared at her. Astrid wondered if the news was as terrible as learning the police, and probably many of the public, suspected your brother of murdering two children. Still, she’d taken that well so far. Perhaps it was because she was convinced of his innocence. Not that innocence would always save you from a prison cell, as Astrid knew only too well.
‘What bad news, Mr Kennedy?’
His smile returned. ‘Please, Evie, call me Jack.’
Astrid held back her laughter. Jack Kennedy, indeed.
Evie’s eyes blinked rapidly. ‘What bad news, Jack?’
‘The publisher I sent your stories to, well, they said they weren’t what they were looking for. I hate to say this, but they said they were too immature, and perhaps you should think about writing for children.’ He waited while she took in his words. ‘Writing for children can be quite lucrative.’
Astrid watched Evie as the younger woman’s hands shook and her eyes shrank into her skull. She turned around without saying another word and stormed out of the shop.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jack Kennedy said. ‘I did try my best for her.’
Astrid thanked him and left the bookshop. She found Evie outside, banging her fist against a tree. Her skin was torn, and blood stuck to the bark. Astrid put her hand on her arm and stopped the physical damage. When she peered into Evie’s eyes, she knew the emotional harm would be harder to quell.
‘Do you want to tell me what this is about?’
Evie trembled as her face welled up with tears and pain. She ran her fingers across her cheeks.
‘It’s stupid. Adam’s locked up, and I’m upset about some silly stories.’
Astrid led her to an empty bench where they sat together. ‘What stories?’
Evie scratched underneath her eye. ‘I’ve always wanted to write, but my parents forbade it. Unless it was to praise God, which it wasn’t, everything I put on to paper was blasphemy. And I was already blasphemous enough without adding to it.’
‘Is this blasphemy something to do with the obsessions you mentioned?’
A smirk crept over Evie’s face. ‘Yes, but that’s nothing to do with my writing.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘But, then again, I suppose it is. Without my so-called obsession, my parents’ word, I wouldn’t have admitted myself into that place, and without the isolation, I wouldn’t have started writing properly.’
‘What did you write?’
Life returned to Evie’s face, and Astrid guessed it was because someone was taking a genuine interest in her for once.
‘It was only short stories at first, a whole load of things I’d had inside my head since I was a kid; stuff I thought was rubbish when I read it back. But then some staff at the home read them and said they were great and I should get an agent or publisher to look at them. I didn’t know what to do until I emailed a few to Mr Kennedy, Jack, at the bookshop. I didn’t think he’d reply, but he did and said he liked them and I should send some more. Eventually, he mentioned he’d get a publisher he knew to read them. That was about a month ago, and I’d heard nothing since. Until now.’ There were no more tears, but Astrid recognised the pain in Evie’s face. ‘I know, it’s silly, really.’
Astrid reached out and took her hand. ‘No, it’s not. And one opinion doesn’t mean much of anything.’ She squeezed her fingers. She’d never been great at giving comfort to others, but decided she’d gotten better at it over the last year.
Evie stopped shaking and smiled at her. ‘You’re right. Now let’s go to my house and see what my brother has been up to.’ They stood together and, to Astrid’s surprise, Evie hugged her. ‘Then I’ll tell you all about the terrible obsessions of the Church children.’
They headed back to the car and Astrid started the engine. As she pulled away from the kerb, she wondered where her hunger had gone.