The real benefit of a visit from Dad became apparent the moment Laurie walked through the door. It was amazing how delicious fried onions could smell. He was cooking one of his special omelettes using entirely homegrown ingredients, and had only been waiting for Laurie’s arrival to add the eggs to the pan. Within minutes, they were sitting down with Jess around the little kitchen table in a threesome that was immediately very comfortable.
Jess certainly seemed to have benefited from having Dad around, unless it was all a front she was putting on for his benefit. Of course they’d always got on well; that was why Jess had kept in touch after Mum’s death, and why she’d invited Laurie to come to live with her. In any case, it was good to see someone else enjoying the dry way in which Dad told his stories of village doings. Afterwards, he let ‘you girls’ clear up, while he did the crossword. Guiltily, Laurie noticed that he’d already emptied the fridge: no chance of hiding from him that she’d never used half the provisions he’d sent down with her ten days earlier.
Only then could Laurie snatch a few moments with Dad’s laptop. There was her user account, its password unchanged for five years. Laurie logged on, entered the Wi-Fi code, logged onto Gmail and downloaded the contacts file she’d spotted that afternoon, saving it onto her account as ‘old laptop’. Then she started up Outlook and opened the file. Yes! There were all her old contacts and there was Paul, filed under ‘P’; she’d never got around to adding his surname. Laurie keyed the number into her new handset.
‘I’m just popping out for a walk.’ Laurie might as well have been talking to an empty room for the reaction she got. Dad nodded vaguely while Jess didn’t even look up from her own newly acquired iPhone.
Laurie was dialling Paul’s number as she walked down the stairs. He picked up after three rings: ‘Laurie?’
Laurie could hear the uncertainty in his voice, and her heart skipped: ‘Paul. It’s great to hear your voice. I’m so sorry you haven’t been able to get me, but I lost my phone. And then, would you believe it? My computer was stolen.’
Laurie added a little laugh to this last statement, as if to emphasise the triviality of the occurrence, but it was clear she wasn’t fooling Paul in the slightest.
‘Stolen? What, like you were mugged? Are you OK?’
On this point at least, Laurie could be reassuring. ‘Oh no, nothing like that. We just had a break-in. The computer was all I had that was worth stealing; my flatmate lost a bit more. Anyway, it took me a while to track down your number, but I eventually found it in the cloud, so to speak.’
Laurie paused to give Paul a chance to reply, but she heard him take a couple of breaths before he did: ‘The cloud? You mean you’ve got everything backed up?’
‘Yes, Dad set it up for me on my Gmail account when I came to London. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up soon?’
‘Laurie, it would be great to see you, but I’m afraid this is a kids week again. During the holidays we alternate. Can I call you back next Monday, when I’m a free agent?’
Laurie tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. In any case, she reminded herself, she’d probably be tied up most of the week with Dad. ‘Oh, OK, I’ll call you next Monday. See you soon. Bye.’ Determined to keep it casual, Laurie disconnected without waiting to hear Paul’s reply.
All in all, it had not been a terribly satisfactory conversation. And it would be days before she could have another go. What was she thinking of? Laurie was walking round the block, brooding, when a ping announced the arrival of a text from Paul: Text me when you get the chance. Px.
Hmm, only one x? Laurie laughed at herself for what she recognised was a different kind of worry. Still, she could show him: Xoxoxoxoxoxox. When had she last done that? On a get-well card for Mum? Laurie found she could entertain the thought without wincing. It was good to be childish occasionally.
Back in the flat, Dad was sitting alone, waiting for her. ‘So tell me what’s been going on since we last saw each other.’
Laurie didn’t tell him everything – it was just as well Jess wasn’t there to catch her eye when she skated over some of the details – but she told him enough: about finding the key (which she described as being close to the platform; again there was no point in worrying Dad unnecessarily with the details of her night underground), about how the locker it fitted at the British Library was empty, about work, about the jogger who crashed into her two mornings before, about the breakin. She said nothing, of course, about going to the police, but was half-expecting Dad not to let her off the subject as lightly as he had Jess. Instead, he asked an entirely unrelated question. ‘What do you know about the man that fell under the train?’
‘Nothing except what the key told me: that he liked to hang out at the British Library. I don’t even know his name. I’ve tried looking on the internet, but that got me nowhere. Why do you ask?’
‘I need something to do while you’re at work; thought I might have a go at following that up, since you seem to have lost interest.’
Laurie was vaguely irritated, partly by the perception Dad had shown in guessing that she had lost interest, and partly by the implication that he thought he could succeed where she had failed. She decided to let some of her feelings show. ‘I’ve always thought I was pretty good at finding things out. I’d hate for you to waste your time.’
‘I have to admit, darling, that you saying that only spurs me on even more. Let’s just say I recognise the challenge you have just issued, and accept.’
Laurie had to laugh. She watched Dad as he rooted around in the kitbag he’d brought up from Somerset, eventually bringing out a much-patched air mattress that she remembered from family camping holidays. Somehow the sight brought home the realisation that had been building all evening: despite all the annoyances, it was good to have him here.