business,” Michael said, “is to find Rupert.”
His words had buoyed me. Perhaps he was right—we could sort this out together and keep the spotlight off Dad. But I remembered there was more than just the two of us concerned. “No,” I said, pulling my phone out. “Not the first.” I studied the screen, getting up my nerve before ringing.
“Julia?” Beryl answered, her voice full of anticipation. “Have you heard from Rupert?”
“No, Beryl, I haven’t. I just thought I would…see how you are.”
Michael shot me a questioning look. I shook my head at him. I was a coward—I couldn’t tell her about Kersey. But whether it was to spare her worry or to protect my dad, I didn’t know.
“Oh. Thank you,” she said politely. “I’m fine, really. After all, we know how your father is. Just off on a project.”
I balked at being swept up in her familial “we”—I wanted no part of her. And yet, I heard a thinness to her voice, as if she was a millimeter away from cracking.
“Yes, well. You’ll let me know when he rings?”
“Of course, Julia. And you will, too—you’ll give me any news?”
“Yes,” I said, the word fairly choking in my throat.
I dropped the phone on the table and stared into nothing. After a moment, Michael said, “So, Beryl’s had no word from Rupert?”
“Nothing.”
“It was probably better you didn’t tell her about Kersey.”
I frowned. “Was it? I suppose. Yes—no sense in worrying her.”
Michael watched me for a moment. “What’s between you and Beryl?”
I sat up straight but wouldn’t meet his eye. I pushed the packet of crackers away as I spoke. “Nothing. She’s my dad’s wife. What could there be between us?”
Michael bent his head to catch my gaze, and when I at last looked up at him, he said, “Your mum died last year, didn’t she?”
I crossed my arms. “Last summer.”
“My dad died more than twenty years ago, and my mum has never found anyone else. I always hoped she would—you know, so she wouldn’t be so lonely.”
“If you’re telling me to be thankful my dad remarried before we were even finished mourning my mum, then you can…” The steam was building up in me, and my voice shot up an octave before I could catch it, but I caught myself in time, taking a sharp breath. “Is your mum…does she live round here?”
Michael smiled. “She lives with one of my sisters in Glen Parva near Leicester. Works nonstop—volunteering, you know. Parish council, garden club, Women’s Institute.”
He said it proudly, and I responded in kind. “WI—my mum tried to get me to join, but I never did.”
“Still could,” Michael said.
I rolled my eyes. “All that jam, I don’t know.”
We lapsed into a pleasant silence, a small break in the harsh reality pressing on us. But my mind drifted back to the subject at hand, and I searched for something that would help.
“I may not know where Dad is, but I know someone who might.”
Michael frowned. “Who?”
“A family friend,” I said. “Tomorrow, I’ll go have a chat.”
“I’ll go with you.”
He fairly jumped at the opportunity, and for some reason I didn’t try to identify, it made me back away. “No, it would be better if I went alone. But I’ll be sure to ring you later if I hear anything,” I said.
“And how will you get there?” Michael asked. “You’ve no car.”
Yes, how would I get to Cambridge the next day? Again, I’d forgotten about my nicked Fiat. Must ring the police. Must ring insurance. And again, a niggling thought tried to work its way to the surface. I pushed it back down in order to stay in control. Must not give in to Michael—I’m the one to sort out any difficulty Dad may be in. “I’ll manage.”
—
When we left Marshy End, Michael drove slowly past the spot where the footpath took off from the road. Two unmarked cars were parked on the verge, but we could see nothing else.
We continued in silence, except for the noises my stomach
His words had buoyed me. Perhaps he was right—we could sort this out together and keep the spotlight off Dad. But I remembered there was more than just the two of us concerned. “No,” I said, pulling my phone out. “Not the first.” I studied the screen, getting up my nerve before ringing.
“Julia?” Beryl answered, her voice full of anticipation. “Have you heard from Rupert?”
“No, Beryl, I haven’t. I just thought I would…see how you are.”
Michael shot me a questioning look. I shook my head at him. I was a coward—I couldn’t tell her about Kersey. But whether it was to spare her worry or to protect my dad, I didn’t know.
“Oh. Thank you,” she said politely. “I’m fine, really. After all, we know how your father is. Just off on a project.”
I balked at being swept up in her familial “we”—I wanted no part of her. And yet, I heard a thinness to her voice, as if she was a millimeter away from cracking.
“Yes, well. You’ll let me know when he rings?”
“Of course, Julia. And you will, too—you’ll give me any news?”
“Yes,” I said, the word fairly choking in my throat.
I dropped the phone on the table and stared into nothing. After a moment, Michael said, “So, Beryl’s had no word from Rupert?”
“Nothing.”
“It was probably better you didn’t tell her about Kersey.”
I frowned. “Was it? I suppose. Yes—no sense in worrying her.”
Michael watched me for a moment. “What’s between you and Beryl?”
I sat up straight but wouldn’t meet his eye. I pushed the packet of crackers away as I spoke. “Nothing. She’s my dad’s wife. What could there be between us?”
Michael bent his head to catch my gaze, and when I at last looked up at him, he said, “Your mum died last year, didn’t she?”
I crossed my arms. “Last summer.”
“My dad died more than twenty years ago, and my mum has never found anyone else. I always hoped she would—you know, so she wouldn’t be so lonely.”
“If you’re telling me to be thankful my dad remarried before we were even finished mourning my mum, then you can…” The steam was building up in me, and my voice shot up an octave before I could catch it, but I caught myself in time, taking a sharp breath. “Is your mum…does she live round here?”
Michael smiled. “She lives with one of my sisters in Glen Parva near Leicester. Works nonstop—volunteering, you know. Parish council, garden club, Women’s Institute.”
He said it proudly, and I responded in kind. “WI—my mum tried to get me to join, but I never did.”
“Still could,” Michael said.
I rolled my eyes. “All that jam, I don’t know.”
We lapsed into a pleasant silence, a small break in the harsh reality pressing on us. But my mind drifted back to the subject at hand, and I searched for something that would help.
“I may not know where Dad is, but I know someone who might.”
Michael frowned. “Who?”
“A family friend,” I said. “Tomorrow, I’ll go have a chat.”
“I’ll go with you.”
He fairly jumped at the opportunity, and for some reason I didn’t try to identify, it made me back away. “No, it would be better if I went alone. But I’ll be sure to ring you later if I hear anything,” I said.
“And how will you get there?” Michael asked. “You’ve no car.”
Yes, how would I get to Cambridge the next day? Again, I’d forgotten about my nicked Fiat. Must ring the police. Must ring insurance. And again, a niggling thought tried to work its way to the surface. I pushed it back down in order to stay in control. Must not give in to Michael—I’m the one to sort out any difficulty Dad may be in. “I’ll manage.”
—
When we left Marshy End, Michael drove slowly past the spot where the footpath took off from the road. Two unmarked cars were parked on the verge, but we could see nothing else.
We continued in silence, except for the noises my stomach
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