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Hard Evidence. Emma Page
Читать онлайн.Название Hard Evidence
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008171858
Автор произведения Emma Page
Издательство HarperCollins
‘I was always fond of Julie,’ she said as she made the tea. ‘She was in and out of here a lot when she was a child. She was a bright, happy little girl, always lively and imaginative. I was very friendly with her mother, she was the same age as me – Julie’s father was a lot older. He died about ten years ago, he’d been retired five years by then.’
She got out a tin of biscuits. ‘Julie’s mother died three years ago.’ She sighed. ‘I still miss her. Julie was only seventeen at the time. She’d left school a year before, she was halfway through a secretarial course. Her mother wasn’t ill very long. It must have been a terrible shock for Julie when she died, though she seemed to take it quite well.
‘She made up her mind what she was going to do very quickly. I thought she ought to take more time to think it over. My husband was alive then. He tried to advise her; he thought it most unwise to decide in such a hurry.’ She shook her head. ‘But there was no changing her mind. She knew what she wanted to do and she did it. There was no one to stop her, no aunt or uncle, no grandparents.’
She poured the tea and sat down opposite Lambert. ‘She sold the furniture – there wasn’t a great deal but there were some nice pieces. It gave her something in the bank to start her off. And of course she had what money her mother left. It wasn’t a fortune but her parents had always been careful.’
She drank her tea. ‘I suggested she moved in here with us, she could finish her secretarial course at the college.’ She shook her head. ‘She was very polite, very grateful, but she’d come to her own decisions. She was going to make a new start, leave the area, find herself a job, finish her secretarial course at evening classes.’
She pressed Lambert to biscuits. ‘I must say she managed everything very efficiently. My husband tried to help but she would do it all on her own. In no time at all she was off. She told me she’d got a job in Millbourne, on one of those free newspapers.’ She never heard from Julie after she left, never got a letter or a Christmas card. ‘I must admit I was rather hurt by that, but I could understand it in a way. I think she was pretty well knocked sideways when her mother died, however little she tried to show it. I think she felt the only way she could get to grips with things, make a life for herself on her own, was to plunge right in, sink or swim by her own efforts. It was a brave thing to do, when you come to think about it, a girl just seventeen, all on her own. I don’t know if I’d have had the gumption at her age, to do what she did.’
She poured more tea. ‘I was really surprised, I can tell you, that day back in April when there was a ring at the door and there she stood, smiling at me. I’d never expected to see her again; I’d often wondered how she was getting on. I always felt sure she’d make out all right, she’d been so competent and independent after her mother died.’
She sighed. ‘She didn’t know about my husband, of course; she was very upset when I told her he’d passed away. She told me she was here just for the weekend. She said: “You’ll never guess where I’m staying – Calcott House.” I said she must be doing well if she could afford their prices. She laughed and said she’d always dreamed of staying there when she was a child – and she was enjoying it just as much as she’d imagined she would. She liked it so much she’d decided to come back soon for a longer break, a week or two.
‘I told her she was welcome to call at any time and that Simon – he’s my grandson – would be coming in May for two weeks, when the school would be on holiday. Julie had just missed him. He’d been staying with me over Easter; he’d gone back to school a few days earlier. Julie knew Simon from when she lived next door and Simon used to come here on visits with his parents. He’s eleven, my one and only grandchild, my son’s boy. His mother was killed in a road accident four years ago; my son’s never had any thought of marrying again. He’s an engineer. He’s out in Turkey just now, working on a big construction project. He’s got a two-year contract, he went out there six months ago. Simon’s at a prep school. He’s a boarder; he’s very happy there.’
She took another biscuit. ‘Julie did call again when she came back for a longer holiday. She’d left the hotel and moved into a caravan a few days before she called here. Simon had arrived from school the day before. Of course he’d grown a lot since the last time she’d seen him, she hardly knew him for a moment. But they got friendly again very quickly. Simon was laid up when she came.’ She laughed. ‘He’d gone running round the garden just after he got here. He climbed up into a tree and jumped down again.’ She spread her hands. ‘He twisted his ankle. That was a fine start to his holiday. The doctor said it wasn’t a bad sprain but he’d have to rest it for at least a week. It was bandaged up and I put him on the sofa in the sitting room during the day.
‘Fortunately he’s never been a child that’s easily bored so it wasn’t too bad for him, he had his books and his woodcarving. That was my husband’s hobby, woodcarving, he taught Simon a lot. After he died I kept all his tools, all his wood, for Simon. He’s really quite good at it, when you think how young he is.
‘And then, of course, there was Julie. She came to see him a few times. She played chess with him – she used to play chess with her father. I left the two of them while I got on with my chores or popped into the village. I used to hear them laughing together, as if they were both children. Simon really looked forward to seeing her.’
She fell silent for a moment. ‘It made me remember the lad Julie was so friendly with when she was a child. He was the only close playmate she ever had. She didn’t go to the village school; her parents sent her to a private day school in the town. Her father used to take her in every day, he was a clerk in an office. None of the other pupils in her class came from the village. The lad she was so friendly with, he went to the village school but he lived quite near here, and he was an only child too. He was the same age as Julie. They played together from when they were small. They were both full of fun and adventurous, though they never got up to any real mischief.’
She looked across at Lambert. ‘One summer when they were about eleven years old, the lad went off to the seaside with his parents for a holiday. He got carried out to sea on one of those rubber floats and he was drowned. It was a terrible blow for Julie. She couldn’t seem to accept that he was dead. It was quite a time before his body was washed up and she’d half convinced herself he’d turn up again safe and sound, it had all been some silly prank.’ She sighed. ‘She never palled up again with any other youngster, not in the same way.’
She fell silent again, then she said, ‘The second time Julie called here to see Simon – that was the very next day – I could hardly believe my eyes when I opened the door to her. She’d had all her beautiful hair cut off.’ She pulled a little face. ‘I made out I liked it short. I said I thought it suited her, but I didn’t like it at all. I thought it was a terrible shame to cut it off. She was still nice-looking, of course, but nowhere near as pretty. It made her features look very sharp, and she’d left off all her make-up. She’d got jeans and a T-shirt on. She looked just like a mischievous lad or one of those actresses playing Peter Pan. She didn’t say why she’d done it and I didn’t ask her.’ She moved her head. ‘But it did just cross my mind it could have been on account of Simon. He’s the same age now as that other lad was when he was drowned. I did wonder if she was making believe she was a child again, making believe Simon was that other boy come back to life.’
She stood up and began to clear the cups from the table. ‘Julie called again early the next week.’ She cast her mind back. ‘That was on the Tuesday. I remember because I popped into the village while she was here, to go to the butcher’s – I always go to the butcher’s on a Tuesday.’ She consulted a wall calendar. ‘May 23rd, that would be.’ She returned to the sink and began to wash up the cups. ‘That was the last time she called.’
‘Did she say it was going to be the last time?’ Lambert asked.
‘No, she didn’t. I knew she’d have to move out of the caravan on the Saturday. She didn’t actually say she’d be going back to Millbourne,