‘Quite often. I saw him even before Dorothea died.’
‘Really? Do you think it’s Sidney Crane?’
He frowns. ‘What makes you say that?’
I explain about my visit to Clayton Rocks and what Scarlett told me.
‘Well, I mean, it’s possible. I never thought of that. I can ask my colleague tomorrow if he has any photos ofSidney. I really thought I saw him walk onto Dennis’s driveway that day but when I went to investigate he wasn’t there. I thought I was being stealthy.’ He smiles sadly. ‘But I’ve never been very good at that.’ He tosses the cloth aside and I take a closer look at his motorbike. I know nothing about bikes, but this looks more like a moped than the kind of powerful bike that drove at me the other day. ‘You know,’ he says carefully, ‘Dennis has lived next door to my parents for the last ten or so years, and yet we don’t know much about him. Not really.’
I step back, puzzled. ‘What do you mean? That we should be suspicious of Dennis?’ I laugh incredulously. ‘He’s a lovely old gentleman.Iknow quite a lot about him. Maybe you should take the time to ask him some questions instead of lurking around his house.’ I realize I sound harsher than I intended and Harry looks taken aback.
‘I don’t know what I’m saying really. You’re right. I’ve never really had any deep and meaningfuls with Dennis,’ he replies stiffly.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out like that.’ Heat travels up my throat. This was not how I envisaged our reunion going.
‘It’s fine. It’s just … the attack, it’s … well, it’s odd, don’t you think?’
I recall the note that came with the delivered package. Vindicta.Revenge. ‘I suppose it is. The same guy who attacked Dennis tried to run me over. So it has to be linked somehow to Dorothea.’
He eyes me warily, opens his mouth and then closes it again. I get the impression he wants to say more.
‘What is it? Last week you told me you wanted to talk about Dorothea. What did you want to say?’
He sighs heavily. ‘Only how I saw that smartly dressed man hanging around her house before she died.’ He lowers his eyes. ‘I told the police at the time.’
‘Is there something else?’
‘No. I’ve told you everything I know.’ His glance rests beyond my shoulder and then he turns away from me to pick up his cloth. It’s a gesture I recognize from when we were teenagers – he’d literally turn his back on me when he didn’t want to answer difficult questions. I remember him doing just this at the end of the summer when I asked him if we’d see each other again.
He kneels down and continues to clean around the wheel arch of his bike.
‘I’ll see you later then,’ I say, puzzled.
‘Yeah. See you.’
38
Alison
‘Blimey,’ exclaims Gareth as he pulls the car up in front of the wrought-iron gates. ‘This is much fancier than I was imagining.’
‘Fancy!’ echoes Lila in awe.
A heavy feeling presses down on Alison. The stone wall is inscribed with the name Villa Oiseau. Through the gates she can see that the front of the villa has a portico and she takes in the creamy stone walls and the sash windows with a stab of envy. It looks like a manor house. She can’t believe Imogen owns all of this. She feels suddenly uncertain. It had seemed like a good idea when she and Gareth discussed driving over to see Imogen. It worries her that Imogen hasn’t returned her phone call. Despite being very different people, they have rarely argued over the years and, since Lila was born, Imogen has been a devoted aunty, travelling over to Cardiff for Lila’s birthdays and school plays, sending texts asking after her niece.
‘It must have been hard on you both,’ Gareth had said once regarding their complex history. ‘You went frombeing Imogen’s sister to effectively being her parent overnight. You had to take on that role when you were only twenty-one.’ And even now, all these years later, Alison still can’t shake that feeling of responsibility towards her sister. That she’s somehow failed her. Failed their mum. At twenty-one she hadn’t known how to be a mother and the two of them had just rubbed along side by side, until Imogen met Josh and ran off to university over three hours’ drive away. At the time Alison had felt relieved that she finally had her freedom back. She’d helped Imogen reach adulthood, get into university. She’d been nearly twenty-five by then, her life had been on hold for the last few years, but she’d done what she said she would. She’d kept her promise to her mum. It was finally her turn to have fun, so she’d returned to Cardiff and the two sisters had settled into a more grown-up relationship.
Gareth leans out of the car window to press the intercom. Alison clocks Josh’s car on the driveway and hopes they haven’t gone anywhere on foot. But then Josh’s disembodied voice floats towards them. Alison can hear the shock in his tone. Alison has never turned up unannounced before. The grand gates slowly creak open to reveal the house in all its Bath stone splendour. Alison experiences another kick of jealousy.
‘Wow,’ says Lila. ‘Is Aunty Immy rich now?’
‘Seems that way,’ says Alison. ‘I bet it’s a nightmare to maintain.’
‘Absolutely,’ agrees Gareth as he pulls in next to Josh’s car. ‘I don’t envy them that.’
She glances at him to see if he’s taking the piss, but he doesn’t seem to be, and the thought warms her.
‘I can’t believe this is Aunty Immy’s house,’ gushes Lila. ‘I want to see the fairy wood.’
