I’d planned to spend a few minutes going through my notes before returning to the interview room, but Liv was waiting for me outside.
‘All done?’
‘No, having a break because Georgia spilled tea all over the table.’
Liv grinned. ‘And you thought she couldn’t mess up an interview.’
‘What’s up?’
‘I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were interviewing him but there’s a lady in reception waiting for Luke Gibson. Any idea what time you might be finished?’
‘Soon, I think. He did tell me someone was waiting for him. I’m wrapping things up.’
‘Oh good, I’ll tell her. Poor thing, she looks absolutely terrified.’
‘Terrified? Why?’
‘It’s natural, isn’t it? It must be awful to know your son is being questioned in a murder investigation.’
Understanding dawned on me. ‘His mother is waiting for him? I assumed it was yet another girlfriend.’
‘Nope. His poor devoted mum.’ Liv stretched her back and winced. ‘I’ll go and tell her he’ll be a while longer.’
‘I can go. You look shattered. Go and put your feet up.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘It’ll take me five minutes. Honestly, go.’
I headed off down the corridor, reflecting that I’d misjudged Luke Gibson. Then again, given the way he’d been flirting with Georgia, maybe I hadn’t. But it wasn’t a crime to have a gaggle of girlfriends at the same time, and Georgia could presumably look after herself …
The only person in reception was a small, slim woman with black hair who was facing away from me. She rocked back and forth as she sat there: the tension that gripped her was obvious a mile away.
‘Mrs Gibson?’
She looked around at the sound of my voice. ‘Oh, no, I’m not. I mean, I am Luke’s mother if that’s who you’re looking for, but we don’t have the same surname. My name is—’
‘Claire Naylor.’ I’d recognised her straight away. If I sounded calm it was because I was experiencing the numbness of pure shock. ‘We’ve met before. Years ago.’ It had been so long ago that I’d forgotten all about her, and now I was wondering how I’d managed that.
She frowned. ‘You do look familiar. I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name.’
‘Maeve Kerrigan.’
She got to her feet and turned to face me properly. She looked surprised, as well she might, I thought. Pretty features, a pale complexion, dyed hair that was a couple of shades too harsh for her skin, bags under her eyes. The overall impression was of an attractive woman who possibly lived on her nerves too much.
‘That’s right. Maeve. It was on the tip of my tongue. You came to my house to interview me about my friend being killed when she was a teenager. You worked with Josh Derwent.’
Josh Derwent, who had been the boyfriend of the murdered girl and the prime suspect in the case until an unbreakable alibi cleared his name. Josh Derwent, who had left home because of the scandal and cut himself off from friends and family. Josh Derwent, who had never really recovered.
‘I still work with him.’
The smile died on her face, replaced by absolute horror. ‘He’s not here, is he?’
‘He’s off today. And he’s not working on this case,’ I added quickly.
‘So he hasn’t met Luke?’
I shook my head. ‘He doesn’t know anything about him.’
‘And you haven’t said anything about – what you found out?’
About the fact that Derwent had unwittingly fathered a child during a one-off fling with Claire, his childhood friend, when they were both sixteen? That he had a grown-up son he didn’t even know about, who I’d just realised was currently sitting in our interview room? No, I hadn’t found myself launching into that particular conversation. ‘I wouldn’t know how to start. Besides, it’s none of my business.’
Relief made her pretty for a moment, the colour sweeping into her face and her eyes bright. ‘Thank God. It’s – well, it’s complicated.’
‘Very.’ The word came out with a lot more emphasis than I’d intended. I moved to sit on a chair, feeling distinctly shaken. ‘I thought Luke reminded me of someone. I didn’t realise – he’s very like Josh, isn’t he?’
‘Is he? I don’t really remember.’ She sat down opposite me. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘They’re so alike. The way they carry themselves …’ I trailed off. The way they look at women … but I couldn’t say that to his mother …
‘He’s just Luke to me. All that is him. No one else.’ It was as if she was challenging me to say Derwent had given him any of his looks or his charm or his brains. Maybe he hadn’t but he had given him something, even if it was only a glint in his eye and the way he moved – that wholly masculine kind of grace that was all controlled power and economy of effort.
‘Why don’t you have the same surname as your son?’ That would have given me a fighting chance of realising who he was, I felt. Someone wasn’t playing fair here.
‘Luke had a falling out with my dad. He decided to take my mother’s maiden name instead.’ She pulled a face. ‘My dad isn’t the easiest to get along with at the best of times. When Luke got into Cambridge, he should have been proud but he came down on him like a ton of bricks. Said he was getting above himself and he’d never be happy. Said his new friends wouldn’t want to know him when they knew where he came from. Luke put up with it for as long as he could but when my dad was rude to a girl Luke brought home, that was it. They had a big row and now they don’t speak. Luke decided he’d rather be a Gibson than a Naylor.’
‘Tough on you.’
She laughed. ‘My dad deserved it. He needs someone to stand up to him. Luke doesn’t take shit from anyone.’
I knew someone else like that, I thought, and sat on the comment because if Claire Naylor wanted to pretend her son was the product of the second attempt at the Virgin Birth, who was I to disagree? Except that I didn’t think it was fair to Derwent. I couldn’t live with myself if I passed up the opportunity to convince Claire she needed to give him a chance.
‘Does Luke know who his dad is?’
‘No. Absolutely not.’ Her hand shot out to grab my knee, gripping me hard enough to leave a mark. ‘You can’t tell him.’
‘I wouldn’t do that!’ She let go of me, satisfied, but I was puzzled. ‘Isn’t he curious? Doesn’t he ask you about his father?’
‘He used to, from time to time. Not so much any more. He doesn’t need a dad, though. He has me.’ She was sitting very straight now, daring me to argue with her.
‘Josh has changed a lot since I met you before,’ I said tentatively. ‘He’s different. I think if he knew about Luke—’
‘He’s never going to know. You can’t tell Josh anything about Luke either. Not even a hint. Promise me.’ Her eyes were fixed on my face. ‘You haven’t said anything to him up to now. Why don’t you keep saying nothing? Forget you even met Luke.’
Because I had met him now, I thought unhappily. It was one thing for him to be a theoretical child, a stranger I could assume had nothing in common with his accidental sperm donor. I had managed to forget about the Luke I’d imagined quite easily – the academic son of a single mother who had nothing in common with his father. The Luke I’d talked to, laughed with – liked – was a different proposition.
‘But he’d be so proud of him,’ I said lamely.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘He doesn’t get to be proud of him. He had nothing to do with what Luke has become.’
‘He didn’t have a chance to be there for him. You don’t know what kind of dad he might have been if you’d told him about Luke.’
‘Trust me, I do know.’ She gave me a bitter little half-smile. ‘I was his friend, remember. You didn’t know him then. He would have been head over heels in love with Luke, and then bored, and then he’d have fucked off to do whatever he wanted to do with his life. As indeed he did. We wouldn’t have seen him for dust once the novelty had worn off.’
I winced, recognising the Derwent I’d met when we started working together: arrogant, unprincipled, self-indulgent and irresponsible. He was still arrogant, if it came to that, but otherwise I thought he was much improved. Most of the time.
‘Luke and I would have been on our own anyway,’ Claire went on. ‘We didn’t need someone coming and going whenever they felt like it. Luke was better off without him when he was a kid, and he definitely doesn’t need him now that he’s an adult.’
‘I understand what you’re saying – believe me, I do – but please think about telling him. Tell them both. You said it yourself: Luke’s an adult. He has a right to make up his own mind about Josh.’
If anything, she looked more determined not to give in. So much for my persuasive arguments.
‘When are you going to tell Luke he can leave?’ she asked.
‘Soon. We’re almost finished for today.’
‘I don’t understand why you wanted to talk to him. He said it was about this woman he didn’t even know. He’s not a suspect, is he?’
Which was a question I didn’t want to answer. ‘It’s hard to explain. I can’t really tell you any details about the case at the moment. But Luke has been very helpful.’
‘You need to let him go.’ She pulled her sleeves down over her hands nervously. ‘What if Josh comes in and finds him here?’
‘No chance. He has a day off. He never comes in on his day off any more.’
‘Any more?’ She tilted her head, interested, and I found myself wondering if Luke had got his brains from his mother. Like him, she missed nothing. ‘What’s changed?’
‘He’s settled down a lot in the last year.’
‘Family?’
‘Sort of. His girlfriend has a son. They live with him now.’ And he’s a great father figure – even if he doesn’t have a huge amount of competition in that particular boy’s life.
‘How old?’
‘Thomas is six.’
Claire hugged herself, considering it. ‘That’s a nice age.’
‘Josh would do anything for him.’
She understood what I was hinting at immediately and was having none of it. ‘You’re not going to convince me he’s changed by telling me about him playing happy families with someone else’s child. Why doesn’t he have kids of his own if he’s such a great father? Because he doesn’t want the responsibility, that’s why.’
‘I’m not sure if that’s it,’ I said carefully. ‘I mean, we haven’t discussed it. But I think he’s waiting for the right time. I don’t know if he and Melissa are trying, or—’
‘Melissa. Is she pretty?’ Claire laughed. ‘I don’t even know why I’m asking. Of course she is. And of course it doesn’t matter. Josh and I were never … Not properly, I mean. It was only once.’
‘I get the impression he’d like to have children, for what it’s worth.’
‘It’s worth nothing. He must never know. Never.’ She leaned forward. ‘Can’t you let Luke go, now that you know who he is?’
‘It doesn’t work like that. I have to finish interviewing him. But I promise I’ll make it as quick as I can.’
‘And then you can forget all about Luke.’
There was absolutely no chance of that, but I smiled, and said goodbye to her, and hoped like hell I wouldn’t need to arrest him somewhere down the line.