The Dead Tracks by Tim Weaver Page B

see through to what made them
tick. I wasn't sure whether it was a natural talent, or a skill cultivated
through years of watching politicians lie through their teeth. But, either way,
Caroline Carver was different. She wore herself the way you'd expect a grieving
parent to: distant, fragile, the disappearance pulling at the seams. But
sometimes I saw someone else. A woman of strength and steel who could bury her
feelings as deep as they needed to go.
        'How
are things going?' she asked finally, as she led me into the living room. She
touched Leigh's head on the way through and got no reaction in return.
        I
seated myself opposite her. 'At the moment I'm just following the same leads as
the police. I need to make sure they haven't missed anything.'
        I
placed my pad down on the table between us and flipped it open. She looked down
at it, back at me and nodded, seeing I was ready to start.
        'Maybe
you could tell me about those last few weeks.'
        She paused,
shrugged. 'I'm not sure there's a lot to tell. Jim was on a job up in Enfield,
at a new contract there, so I took Meg into school for most of that last
fortnight. Certainly the morning she disappeared.'
        'She
seemed all right to you that day?'
        'Yes,'
she said. 'perfectly fine. She was always such a positive force. I'm not sure
where she got it from, because both Jim and I can be a bit… well,
temperamental, I suppose.' She smiled a little — a proper smile for the first
time since I'd met her. Then it vanished again. 'That was why she was such a
good student, I think. She just maintained an even keel the whole time. Never
got over-excited or depressed. She was just an amazing girl.'
        'What
can you tell me about Charles Bryant?'
        Caroline
glanced at me. I wasn't sure whether she was telling me she never liked him, or
was surprised I had brought him up in the first place.
        'Megan
dated him for a while.'
        'Did
you meet him?'
        'Only
once.'
        'How
long did they go out for?'
        'Not
long. Maybe two or three months.'
        'What
was he like?'
        She
shrugged. 'He seemed okay. It was a tough time for him.'
        'Megan
didn't love him?'
        'Definitely
not,' she said, shaking her head. 'I think that was the problem. She went out with
him because she felt sorry for him. Felt sorry that he had lost his mother like
that. And also because she was a good person. She looked at him and saw that he
needed someone to help him through the grieving process.'
        'How
did he take the split?'
        'What
do you mean?'
        I
looked at her. She wasn't playing ball with me, even though she could see where
I was trying to drive the conversation. Perhaps the idea of her daughter dating
someone wasn't one she liked to think about, especially if it had somehow
initiated her disappearance. 'I mean, I'm trying to work the angles here,' I
said to her.
        'He
was upset.'
        'Did
he try to talk her round?'
        'Not
really. I think, in his heart of hearts, he knew the relationship wasn't built
to last. He knew why Meg was around for him. He definitely had a thing for her,
a very strong affection, but he seemed a level-headed boy. I think…' She
paused, looked at me. 'I think if you're heading down that road with Charlie
Bryant in mind… well, it's the wrong direction.'
        'The
police talked to him?'
        'Yes.
I think they had a similar theory to you.'
        'Did
she start seeing anyone else after that?'
        A
slight hesitation. 'No,' she said, but didn't look at me.
        'Jim
and I talked to her about it and suggested it might be better if she
concentrated on her studies. She was three good grades away from getting a
place at Cambridge. That was worth a little sacrifice.'
        I
nodded, but didn't write anything down.
        Something
was definitely up.
        'What
about the names Anthony Grant, or A. J. Grant — do they