Rachel’s baths were an important part of her day – a restorative ritual involving candles, books and music that lasted for up to an hour and, much to Garibaldi’s as-yet-unarticulated displeasure, one that used up most of the hot water. He had learned, to his cost, that it was a good idea not to interrupt them so when he came into the flat to find a shut bathroom door and the sound of music beyond it he poured himself a whisky, put on Gillian Welch and lay on the sofa.
His phone rang.
Kay. His heart sank.
‘Jim, it’s me.’
‘Hi.’
‘We need to talk about Alfie.’
So what was new? Had there ever been a time in recent years when they hadn’t needed to talk about Alfie?
‘How was he?’ said Garibaldi, remembering that she’d seen him at the weekend.
‘I’m worried.’
That made two of them, but he knew their worries were different. Alfie’s attendance at QPR games had never been of great concern to his ex-wife.
‘When did you last speak to him?’ asked Kay. 29
‘Yesterday.’
‘How did he seem?’
‘Look, Kay, no need to play games. Why don’t you just tell me what you’re worried about?’
‘I’m not playing games. I just want to know how you found him.’
‘I’ll tell you when you’ve told me what you’re worried about.’
It was like being back in the playground.
‘I don’t think he’s working hard enough. In fact, I don’t think he’s working at all.’
So that was it. No work. Nothing about the company he was keeping, the social reinvention that had caused Garibaldi many a sleepless night.
‘What makes you say that?’
‘He’s partying all the time. Dominic says …’
Garibaldi winced. It was bad enough every time Kay uttered her partner’s name, but when she uttered his name and followed it with ‘says’, he felt his face twitch. It was twitching now as he shut his eyes and listened to Dominic’s analysis of Alfie’s university experience.
‘Alfie should be aiming for a First. Nowadays that’s what employers are really looking for.’
So that was it. The demands of the market. The need for a good job. The assumption that his son would end up in the City. An assumption he had, until recently, dismissed as ridiculous.
‘What he should be doing at Oxford is aiming for a First and making contacts.’
‘Well, he’s making contacts all right,’ said Garibaldi. ‘Dinner parties in the country.’
‘I don’t have any problem with that. It’s the good degree I’m worried about.’130
What had happened to the woman he married all those years ago? Could anyone change so much?
‘Well I do have a problem with that,’ said Garibaldi. ‘Wouldn’t surprise me if he ends up joining one of those drinking clubs, the sort of thing those wankers like Johnson and Cameron and Osborne were in. What was it? The Bullingdon.’
The woman he married would have agreed with him. No son of theirs should be hanging out with that sort of crowd, or even be close to that sort of crowd.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not thinking of joining the Bullingdon.’
‘Not yet he isn’t.’
‘Look, Jim, I don’t have a problem with him making interesting friends.’
‘Interesting?’
‘That’s his choice. It’s what you do when you’re young.’
‘It’s not what I did when I was young.’
‘Yes, well—’
‘Yes well what?’
‘Look, Jim, I don’t want a row. I just want to talk about Alfie.’
Garibaldi tightened his lips. It was impossible to talk to Kay about Alfie and not have a row. And it was difficult not to apportion blame when what to blame was so clear. That move to the private school sixth form. Alfie’s girlfriend and the school’s air of expectation and entitlement. And now that he was at Oxford, hanging out with a load of kids from schools posher than the one his father thought he should never have gone to in the first place.
Of course, he’d been proud when Alfie had got in. And of course, he enjoyed going up to see him. But when he thought of the changes his son was going through he 131couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d have been better off somewhere else.
‘I was ringing,’ said Kay, ‘to ask whether when you see him—’
‘He’ll be OK,’ said Garibaldi, cutting across her, not wanting her to have the chance to tell him what to say. ‘Whatever it is, he’ll get through it.’
He spoke the words with a conviction he knew he lacked.
The bathroom door opened and Rachel, one towel wrapped round her body, another cocooning her hair, emerged.
‘Look, Kay, I’ve got a work call coming in. I’ve got to go.’
‘Maybe we should meet.’
The last thing he wanted.
‘You and me,’ said Kay, adding after a pause. ‘And maybe Dominic and Rachel.’
Correction. That was the last thing he wanted.
‘Let’s think about it,’ he said before saying goodbye as nicely as he could bring himself to.
Rachel sat on an armchair and started to dry her hair. ‘Who was that?’
‘Have a guess. She’s worried that Alfie’s not doing any work. Not at all worried that he’s hanging out with a load of toffs.’
‘And not at all worried that he’s not coming to QPR?’
Garibaldi smiled. She knew him well.
‘Look,’ said Rachel, sounding like she was about to deliver a teacher explanation. ‘These things are always worse when you’re thinking about them at a distance. Maybe you should go up and see him.’
As was so often the case, Rachel was speaking sense.
‘Yeah, maybe I should. Fancy coming with me?’ 132
‘Sure.’
‘OK, let’s try and find a time. Might be difficult with this case.’
Rachel stopped patting her hair and sat up. ‘By the way, I’ve got something for you.’
Garibaldi perked up, thinking that Rachel was about to let her towel slip and call him over.
‘About the case. I went through the records of who came from Forum Tutors to Hillside and guess whose name was in the list? One Giles Gallen.’
‘Gallen? At your school?’
Rachel nodded. ‘Yeah. I only found it today. I was going to ring you—’
‘Why the hell didn’t you?’
He hadn’t meant to sound so aggressive and immediately regretted it. This always happened after conversations with Kay.
‘Sorry, I didn’t have any time.’ She sounded wounded. ‘And I thought it would be OK to tell you this evening.’
‘It’s pretty important, isn’t it?’
‘I know it’s important and I’m sorry I didn’t ring. I thought if I told you as soon as I saw you it would be OK. And I’ve been in the bath and …’
Garibaldi held up his hand. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. And it’s fine. Absolutely fine.’
‘I mean I could have called you, I suppose, but it’s not that easy at school …’
Garibaldi moved towards Rachel and took her hands in his. The last thing he wanted was a row. ‘It’s OK. It really is.’
Rachel nodded and smiled. All was forgiven. Garibaldi reminded himself to look up what was on at the Half Moon.
‘So tell me,’ said Garibaldi, ‘what was Gallen doing at Hillside?’ 133
‘University stuff with Sixth Formers,’ said Rachel. ‘The Head’s desperate for some of our kids to get into Oxbridge. It may not have happened yet but he’s already written the Press Release for when it does. And he’s always banging on about access schemes and the like. That’s why he jumped at Forum’s pro bono offer. And Giles Gallen apparently came in a couple of times in the summer term to talk to some Year 12 kids who were thinking of applying. Gave them some advice and interview practice. Came in again at the beginning of this term as well.’
Why had Forum not mentioned it? When Garibaldi had asked Felicia and Roddy Ireland for a list of who Gallen had been tutoring why had no mention been made of his work at Hillside? Especially given their eagerness to flag up the pro bono work they offered.
‘I think I might need to come in.’
‘Come into school? Will I have to pretend I don’t know you?’
‘Depends whether you’re into that kind of role play.’
Rachel reached for the towel wrapped round her body. Garibaldi wondered whether his luck was in but was disappointed when he saw Rachel pull it tighter and go back into the bathroom.
He lay down on the sofa again, picked his laptop off the floor, turned up Gillian Welch, looked up ‘What’s on at the Half Moon’ and Googled Barnes Old Cemetery again.