Alf watched while she evicted a seed catalogue from its polythene envelope, and slipped the photograph in its place.
‘You won’t be throwing that book away?’ he asked indignantly. ‘Not with the state the garden’s in!’
She shook her head. ‘Fancy a coffee? I reckon I could use one.’ She tapped the photograph as an excuse. Perhaps it wasn’t an excuse.
They stared at the frozen images of the man and the boy. At last Alf turned it face down. ‘That coffee,’ he said.
He swilled mugs under the outside tap and poured from his flask.
‘I guess the front room’s the most civilised,’ she said. It was the second time this morning she was having difficulty making her mouth work.
He raised an eyebrow, but followed.
‘That Paul’s done a decent job,’ he said, running a critical thumb down the window frame. ‘Mind you, he ought to have done, the amount of time he’s taken. Must have used a brush with two bristles.’
‘He’s been here a lot, then?’
‘Afternoons, mostly. Some dinner times. Thought he’d got a job to go to.’
Kate nodded. ‘Works slowly, you said?’
‘Glad he’s not one of my lads. He’d take a month of Sundays to finish a job. Mind you, he says he’ll be back to do your ceiling. Arse-ended way of doing things.’
‘Right.’ She couldn’t think of anything she wanted to say aloud. Her head, on the other hand, was ringing with things she didn’t want to hear.
‘You all right? Fancy a biscuit?’ He produced some from the bib of his overalls.
She sank on to a flat-pack ‘Thanks.’
‘Don’t want to let that sort of thing get to you. Saw a lot worse in the Army. Mind you, that was pictures of men and women.’
She nodded.
‘Makes you wonder what goes on in these people’s minds.’
She nodded. What went on in the mind of someone who’d give up lunch-time and afternoons to paint a front window frame slowly; to sort out a front but not a back garden.
‘What sort of time would he come to do his painting?’ she asked.
‘Funny. No one in their right mind’d come then. Parent-time. You know, this morning, it took me twenty minutes to get into your road, let alone park. Just as bad in the afternoon. The mothers start arriving before three: want to chafe the fat, I suppose. And he comes then. God knows where he parks. It’s like the bloody dodgems. Someone smashed into my ute the other day. Well, did her more damage than me.’
‘Mine’s got a few scars.’
‘Nice little motor like that? That’s a shame. Look, the wife’s brother knows a bit about cars – might be able to tidy it up a bit.’
‘Would you ask him? It’s nothing serious –’
‘Don’t want to let it rust. I’ll have a word.’
‘So you’ll have to talk to Paul after all,’ Maz said. ‘Giles turned over the whole of the loft – got absolutely filthy. My goodness, it’s time we threw some of it away – the ceiling’ll be coming down if we’re not careful. Then he remembered: Paul had this idea of writing a history of the Brayfield Baptists BB. Golly: what do they call that? Alliteration?’
Kate’s smile was perfunctory. Or was it just that her face still wasn’t working?
‘Fancy some lunch?’
‘No, thanks. I’d better be getting back. We’ve got this bug at work – half the squad’s off sick.’
‘Tell you what, I’ll get on the phone to Paul – get him to drop it round to you. That’d save you some time.’
‘No – honestly, it’s all right. I can pop into his college and see him there.’
‘If you can find him! Seriously, you mustn’t interrupt his classes. It’s almost as bad as interrupting a service! And he never answers his college phone – he says he’s tied up with students all the time. I might as well have a direct line to his answerphone. I’ve got to talk to him about this weekend – he’s coming over to look after the kids while Giles and I have a sinful break. I won this prize, did I tell you? In Manchester, of all places! I’ll tell him then.’
‘Does he need to? I shall still be here, after all.’
‘No arguments. You look washed out enough as it is without looking for extra work.’
‘I’m sorry, Gaffer. I’ve really let you down.’
‘I don’t see why you’re making such a song and dance about it, Kate. So what if she phones him? All you’ve got is a busy-body knowing a bit more than we’d like him to know. I’d much rather he didn’t go shoving his oar in. But I have been known to put the fear of God into people.’ He smiled. She suspected this was his way of apologising.
She shook her head. ‘There’s much more, Graham. It was Paul who scrabbled round under the floorboards to fish out Cassie’s diamonds lying flat. I thought I heard something fall then. In fact, he even checked his organiser to see if he’d lost anything. Alf found this under the same floorboards when he put in the wiring for my security light.’ She laid the photograph on his desk. ‘And before you say any one of Alf’s lads could have left it there, you ought to know something else. Paul’s turned his attention from my front garden to my front window. And the times he finds it most convenient to appear at my house are lunch break and the end of afternoon school.’
He nodded. ‘Go on.’
She shook her head. ‘I’d rather you worked it out. Maz is my friend.’
‘We’re not talking about Maz, here. We’re talking about Paul. Come on, spit it out.’
‘If we’re looking for a paedophile, Graham – I think Paul might just fit our bill.’
He’d taken charge of her, making her coffee and feeding her sandwiches from the neat little lunch-box his wife had packed.
‘We’ll go and get something else in a few minutes. Not from the canteen. But you’re like a ghost, Kate – I don’t want you passing out all over me.’
‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me these days.’
‘Seen the shrink yet? It’s all right. I’ve a full report on that item in your post. Cope had prioritised it. Not that any of us expect to get much from it. God knows we’ve got little enough so far.’
‘Not even a box of files.’
‘Not even a box of files. But I’ll get Selby and Roper round there – a pleasant little reception committee. Unless you want to be involved?’
‘I’ve started so I’ll finish, like the man said. All he needs to know is that we’re conducting a possibly routine enquiry into something that happened ten years ago. I’d like to take Colin along with me, if I may.’ She ran through the scenario in her head. It didn’t seem unmanageable. And then she remembered what Maz had been saying. She put her sandwich down, half got to her feet.
‘Kate?’ His hand on her arm, he gently pushed her back into the chair.
‘It’s now one-thirty on Friday,’ she said. ‘And Paul’s looking after the three Manse children all weekend.’