OUTSIDE ANNA’S I TAKE A DEEP BREATH BEFORE RINGING the bell. I hear her footsteps, then the door opens. She stoops to pat the dog, then opens the door wider to let us in. In the kitchen she pours water into a plastic tub. Her hand shakes as she puts it on the floor so that it splashes on to the floorboards and dribbles through the gaps. Toffee sniffs around, whines, and comes to sit right up close to me, leaning against my leg. I rest my hand on his shoulder to settle him.
Anna holds the kettle under the stream of water. To her left a regiment of different-sized black knife handles stick out of a bleached wood block. I try not to look at it. When she turns to me, she’s smiling.
‘Good timing. I needed a break.’
‘You’re not painting this morning?’ She isn’t wearing her overalls.
‘No. Paperwork, damn it.’ She screws up her face in an expression of disgust.
I look around. Anna’s kitchen smells of paint and linseed oil. In the small glass extension there are four child-sized wooden chairs – they look like IKEA – two of them completed, one not started, and the one she’s currently working on, sitting on a paint-spattered trestle table. It’s painted with the name Thomas and a selection of rockets and stars. The completed pair are for Sammy and Jenna. They’ve been painstakingly done, the images delicate and detailed.
‘What’s happened to this one?’ I ask, picking up a broken chair.
She takes it off me and inspects it, pushes the loosened rail back into its hole. ‘I tripped over it. Nearly broke my leg. It just needs a bit of glue and a hammer.’
‘I wish I was as practical as you.’
She smiles. ‘I didn’t use to be. I’ve surprised myself. It’s a good feeling, knowing that I can manage on my own.’
The kettle clicks, and Anna fills two mugs. She adds milk and puts them on the table. We sit down.
‘So, how are you?’ she asks. She pulls her hair back, twists it and lets it fall.
I keep my hands on my knees because they’re shaking so much. I’m scared of what comes next. On the way over, I scripted what I wanted to say, but I can’t remember how I proposed starting.
‘Not so good. It’s the not knowing that’s the worst thing. How can someone disappear without leaving a trace?’ I pick up my coffee and blow on it, then sip carefully, watching her over the rim. Toffee barks sharply. I press my hand on his muzzle to shush him.
‘Sorry, he’s been nervy since Nick went.’
‘I’ve got mice,’ Anna says. ‘I expect he can smell them.’
‘Probably.’ I drink some more of the coffee. She watches me, a question in her eyes. She wants to know what I’m doing here. I put my mug down and take a deep breath.
‘Anna, you remember I asked you if you’d happened to bump into Nick the Thursday before he disappeared?’
She frowns, but I don’t believe she’s forgotten. I wait, my eyebrows raised, until a red tinge begins to creep up her neck. I take a deep breath. I need her to believe I know more than I do. I decide to lie; after all, it may be the truth. ‘You were seen, Anna.’
‘What?’ Her mouth stays open. That and her flushed face tell me all I need to know.
‘Cassie’s husband saw you arguing with Nick.’
There’s a long silence, and I don’t fill it. I understand that she needs time to adjust.
‘OK. Yes. I did see Nick. We recognized each other from the school and said hello. We weren’t arguing. I don’t know what gave him that idea.’
Finally. I look directly into her eyes. ‘Did something happen between you two? Are you having an affair?’
She looks genuinely baffled. ‘No! Absolutely not. God, people are such gossips.’
‘So you do know him?’
The silence is long and painful. I can see the conflict in her face.
‘All right,’ she sighs. ‘Yes. I knew him a long time ago, but I hadn’t seen him in years, I swear. I wasn’t even sure if he was who I thought he was. I’d seen you two together and heard you refer to him as Nick, but I was confused because Lottie’s surname is Trelawney-Parr. I had no idea she wasn’t his daughter until Cassie told me.’ She holds my gaze. She seems sincere.
I push my fingers through my hair and groan. ‘How long have you known each other?’
‘Since I was two. But the last time I saw him, I was in my teens.’
‘Brilliant. Jesus, all these people crawling out of Nick’s past. Why don’t I know any of this?’
‘Why would you? We hadn’t been in touch since 2000. Does he tell you about all his old school friends?’
‘Sorry, that was a stupid question. Listen, do you know an Alex Wells? He would have been a little younger than you, but he went to Nick’s school too.’
‘No.’ She answers too quickly. ‘Well, I don’t think so. It was a big school. I wouldn’t have known the names of the boys in the years below me. Would you?’
I laugh. ‘Certainly not.’ We’re OK again.
Toffee starts to whine so I pick him up, looking round as I do so. A photograph on the dresser snags my attention. I get up for a closer look and feel a cold trickle down my spine. I’ve seen it before; or at least, I’ve seen part of it. This one is uncropped, and the person whose arms are so fondly draped around Izzy Wells’ shoulders is Anna. Younger but, unmistakably, her. I turn to find her staring.
‘I don’t understand,’ I say. ‘Alex Wells showed me this picture. Why do you have it?’
She takes the frame from me and sets it back on the shelf. ‘You’re going to find out sooner or later,’ she says.
I tense. ‘Find out what?’ But I think I already know.
‘Alex is my brother. It was my sister who drowned. It was Izzy.’
My mouth drops open. ‘Why did you lie to me?’
Her face is stiff. ‘I don’t know. Habit, I suppose. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t know my family. I haven’t spoken to any of them in years.’
I try to imagine what it would feel like if Lottie refused to speak to me. It would be devastating. Anna must feel the same about Kai; and yet she’s cut her mother out of her life, and her grandchild’s life. She had been through a trauma, but still, why add to their pain?
‘What happened?’
I go back to my chair and sit down, lean on my elbows and watch her. She pulls her eyes from mine and looks down, scratching a dried blob of paint from the knuckle of her thumb.
‘Do you want the short version, or the long one?’ she asks.
‘I have plenty of time.’
Finally, she looks up and shrugs. ‘Well, OK. I’m the oldest of four. Two girls, two boys. Alex, obviously, and Rory. It’s the typical thing, all the pressure on the first baby to be perfect, to speak early, to walk early, to achieve more than the other babies popped out by the women you’ve met at the NCT. Then two years later Izzy comes along, premature and fighting for life. I was a stroppy, spiky little thing, who didn’t like to be cuddled for too long, but Izzy, when she was tiny, would lie on Mum’s chest, like she was still inside her. Alex and Rory were princes and Izzy was Mum’s little warrior. I slipped between the cracks. So, anyway, I became a disgustingly attention-seeking child, and a filthy-tempered, equally attention-seeking adolescent and when the terrible things started happening – did Alex tell you that Dad lost his money thanks to Tim Ritchie?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yeah, well. After what happened to Izzy, it almost killed him. I started counting the days till I could go. I finished my GCSEs, packed my bags and went back to London.’
‘Where did you stay?’
‘With my godmother in Hackney, while I did my A levels. Then I moved out. So what else did Alex say? I suppose he told you all about that holiday?’
‘Not much. Just what happened to your sister. It’s Nick I want to know about.’
She tilts her head, squeezes her eyes shut and rubs her fingers across the bridge of her nose. She takes a deep breath. ‘I gave Nick a really hard time.’
‘Why?’
‘He’d upset me. I’d caught him kissing a friend of mine and I wanted to punish him. It was one of the reasons I was so keen to talk to him. I wanted to apologize for being such a bitch that summer. It backfired on me big-time. Everyone started to hate me. I would have stopped it all and made friends with Nick again.’ She draws a long sigh. ‘But then Izzy died, and our family fell apart. I didn’t want to talk to any of them. I avoided Nick. I had little to do with my brothers – there was too big a gap between us.’
‘What else did you talk to Nick about?’
‘This and that. Our children and the school. I told him that I’d been married and was a widow. He was sweet about that. He said I should come for supper some time. He said you were always having little supper parties.’
‘Oh, not that often,’ I say quickly. Would Nick have said those things? I suppose he might have done. But then why baulk when I suggest exactly that? It makes no sense.
Her phone buzzes; she swipes and reads the message then glances at me. ‘It’s Susanna wanting to know how many cakes she can put me down for.’
I nod, not interested. ‘I wish you’d told me.’
She fiddles with her hair, rubbing the ends between her finger and thumb, pulling a strand taut across her lips, then curling it behind her ear. ‘I do, too. I just didn’t want that summer rehashed, to have to explain how appallingly I behaved. Meeting Nick brought it all back.’
‘For him, too, I’d imagine.’
‘Yes.’ She looks as worn out as I feel. ‘All I can tell you is that Izzy had a thing about him. She followed him round and she was the only one who refused to obey my rules.’
‘What rules?’
‘We pretended he didn’t exist. Didn’t Alex say?’
I think back and shake my head. ‘No, he didn’t.’
‘That is so like him. Well, it went on for days. But Izzy wouldn’t stick to the plan. Whenever she thought I wasn’t looking, she’d smile at him. She would talk to him if I wasn’t in the room. I’m glad of that now. My sister was a kinder person than me. She should still be here.’
‘Why was everyone so pathetic? Why didn’t they tell you to stop it or ignore you?’
‘Have you forgotten what it’s like being a teenager? Weren’t you ever so in thrall to someone that you’d do anything to be in favour? I’m not proud of how I behaved, but back then the sense of power it gave me was extraordinary. I look back, and I don’t recognize that girl as me; but it was. We do bad things when we’re young and ignorant, but it doesn’t necessarily make us bad adults. Stronger children gang up on weaker children; it’s human nature. And down in Devon, in that huge old house, cut off from London and real life, it was like we were on an island. Different rules applied. Nick began to rely on Izzy.’ There’s a glint in her eye when she says this. ‘Maybe the age gap between them became distorted or blurred around the edges.’
I stiffen. ‘What’re you saying?’
‘I’m not saying anything. I’m trying to explain what the atmosphere was like.’
‘Were you jealous of Izzy?’
Her eyes cloud. ‘No. Not at all.’
‘You get him away from your rival and suddenly he’s cosy with your little sister.’
She scowls. ‘Only because I wouldn’t talk to him.’
I press my linked hands against my mouth and look at her over the weave of my fingers. She avoids my gaze.
‘Afterwards, I felt so bad about everything, you know. I wanted to forget the whole thing, not mention it. Izzy was dead, so what did it matter how Nick was feeling? But it did matter, and I was ashamed, but too proud to admit it or apologize. Nick looked awful at the funeral, like he hadn’t slept or eaten properly since. We had to acknowledge each other, but there was no real communication.’
She closes her eyes. I wait patiently, feeling desperately sorry for her, or for that screwed-up teenager at least. She behaved badly, but it all feels so familiar. Usually we can leave our self-obsessed adolescence behind us, but not Anna. She’s locked in Taisie’s world because of her sister. She’ll never escape that summer.
Anna lowers her hands to the table. ‘He didn’t come back to school in September, and after the fiasco with Tim’s restaurant, we moved away. Dad and Mum said it was because they needed a fresh start, somewhere they wouldn’t be reminded of Izzy, but really it was because we had to sell up. I didn’t hear any more about Nick, and our parents had fallen out big-time, so there was no contact. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve tried my best to move on.’
It’s cold in her kitchen. I rub my arms, and shiver. ‘Are you asking me to believe that it’s a coincidence that Alex contacted Nick the day after you confronted him in the street?’
‘I didn’t confront him.’
I shrug. ‘According to Cassie, Evan described it as an intense conversation.’
‘That was his perception, then. He was wrong.’
‘Really?’
She doesn’t elaborate. She doesn’t need to. It’s Evan’s word against hers.
‘Did you and Alex plan this?’
She frowns. ‘Don’t be silly.’
The cogs of my mind are turning slowly. ‘But you understand why I might wonder, don’t you? Alex was looking to heal by getting in touch with the other people who were there that summer. If he managed to get hold of Nick’s number, I doubt he’d have had much trouble finding you.’
‘Maybe not. But he didn’t.’
I watch her closely. ‘How do you feel, knowing that he’s been in touch with Nick, talking about the past?’
She looks me straight in the eye. ‘I feel sorry for both of them.’
‘Was there something odd about Izzy’s death? Did Nick know something?’
She laughs. ‘Oh my God, Grace. Do you have any idea what you sound like? I don’t have a clue why Alex chose now to deal with his demons. As for me, bumping into Nick has brought back some unwelcome memories and I’d imagine the same applies to him. We were a shock to each other. Maybe he felt responsible, or guilty, and seeing me triggered a breakdown. I don’t know. You’re the one who lives with him. What do you think?’
I swallow. ‘It seems a little fishy.’
‘I’m sure it does. I hope he comes back.’
‘When you spoke to the police, why didn’t you tell them you knew Nick?’
She blushes. ‘I thought I could avoid it.’
‘You know that I will.’
‘Of course, but there’s no need. I’ll do it myself.’ She presses her fingers into the corners of her eyes, as if she’s trying to block her tear ducts. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come clean before. I was thrown. I’ve had a tough time since Ben died, and it’s made me secretive.’
‘Is it because you don’t want anyone to know your husband killed himself?’
She gasps. She might have been ready for questions about Nick, but she wasn’t ready for that.
‘How the hell did you know?’
‘Alex told me.’
She slumps back in her chair and covers her face with her hands. We sit in silence. It’s so quiet I can hear the wind rustling the leaves of the tree that overhangs Anna’s garden from next door.
‘You really know how to drive the nail in, don’t you?’ She removes her hands to reveal eyes welling with tears. ‘I don’t tell people my husband killed himself. It’s too personal, OK? I’m ashamed that he didn’t love me or his son enough to stay. I’m ashamed that I couldn’t help him. I’m not going to talk to new friends about that. Why the hell should I? It’s my business. My pain.’
The tears are falling hard. She slashes them away with her fist. She’s angry and I feel terrible. I move around the table to sit beside her.
‘I’m sorry. That was incredibly insensitive.’
She sniffs and swallows. ‘Yes, it was. Please can you go.’
‘I don’t like to leave you like this.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ She jumps up, pulls a sheet from the roll of kitchen towel and dabs her eyes. ‘I’d better get back to work.’
At the door I hug her. Her body is slim and warm, but stiff with tension. Her hair smells of grapefruit.
‘Wait,’ she says. ‘How was he? How was Alex?’
‘He seemed fine. He’s a lawyer.’ No need to tell her what I actually thought of him. ‘Maybe you should get in contact. I can give you his email address.’
‘Maybe. Oh, and Grace? Please don’t tell Nick’s family about me.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I made the break with the past for my own sanity. It’s taken me a long time to recover and I honestly don’t think I could stand seeing them.’
‘I don’t know.’ It doesn’t seem logical to me. This is a villagey sort of place. She won’t be able to avoid them for long. ‘Cora can be difficult, but Tim’s OK. Why don’t I speak to him, so that it’s not such a big deal if you do happen to bump into each other.’
‘No! For Christ’s sake, Grace. Don’t you understand? I do not want to talk to them.’
I hold my hands up, bewildered by her reaction. ‘OK. OK. Sorry. I won’t say a word. But, Anna, you do realize that once you’ve told the police about your connection to Nick, they’re going to ask them about you. I can’t do anything about that.’
She looks uncertain, but then she nods, adding to my feeling that she’s making this up as she goes along, that events are catching up with her, the ripples of what happened to her sister eighteen years ago finally breaking at her feet.
‘It’s all right. It’s my problem, not yours. Leave it for as long as possible, so I can prepare myself.’
‘Is it really that bad?’
She lowers her head and I don’t hear what she whispers, so I ask her to repeat it.
‘Tim seduced me when I was fifteen.’
‘Shit. Oh my God, Anna, that’s awful. Did you tell anyone?’
She shakes her head. ‘No, and you mustn’t. But you understand why I don’t want him knowing I’m here?’
‘OK,’ I say quietly. ‘It won’t come from me.’
As I walk back, my head is spinning. Part of me can’t believe that the man I’ve known all this time could be capable of something like that. But the haunted look in Anna’s eyes convinced me she was telling the truth. Douglas could clearly see something dark in Tim that I couldn’t.