Person or Persons Unknown (7 page)

‘Oh, I shall. Now, that's enough about me. Where's Magda swanned off to?'

‘Paris,' he replied, refilling her glass. ‘Some people have all the luck.'

‘Is she still planning on putting cafés into her boutiques?'

‘In principle, yes; there are a few where it wouldn't be practicable, but she's doing some market research.'

‘The one in Buckford was great.'

Gavin smiled. ‘That's her flagship.'

The waiter approached to enquire if they'd like a dessert, but they settled for coffee and the accompanying amaretti.

‘And separate bills, please,' Rona added as he moved away.

‘Oh, now look—' Gavin began, but Rona cut in.

‘No, Gavin, I mean it. The last time we met here, with Magda, you insisted on paying, which was very generous, but I can't let you make a habit of it. This is one of my favourite haunts, and I can't run the risk, every time I come, of someone I know trying to treat me. It was great having your company, but I pay my own way. OK?'

‘Far be it for me to argue,
Ms
Parish.'

‘Good,' she said, and purposefully took out her credit card.

Minutes later they were on the pavement outside. Gavin's car was parked in the small yard behind the restaurant. ‘Can I run you home?' he offered, but she shook her head.

‘As you know, it's just round the corner, and Gus will protect me from any bogeymen.'

‘As long as you're sure. It was good to see you, Rona. Mind how you go.'

‘I will. Love to Magda. Goodnight, Gavin.'

With Gus's lead tightly in her hand, she walked swiftly down the pavement and rounded the corner without looking back. Where Gavin was concerned, she thought, it was a policy she'd be well advised to follow.

T
he next morning, Rona was still wondering how best to put the proposal to Barnie when Dinah phoned.

‘Rona – ages since I saw you! How about you and Max coming over and meeting the family? Melissa would love to see you again, and I don't think you've ever met Sam, have you, let alone little Martha?'

‘That would be great, Dinah.'

‘Lunch time would be better than evening, from the children's point of view. How about Sunday? Are you free?'

Fleetingly, Rona thought of her parents, but no invitation had been forthcoming. ‘Yes, that'd be fine, thanks.'

‘Come over about twelve, then – and pray for a fine, warm day! Indoors, the noise level can be excruciating if they let rip together. The cats flee to the top of my wardrobe!'

The Trents had three Siamese, who had long ago formed a non-aggression pact with Gus.

As soon as Dinah rang off, Rona pressed the button for
Chiltern Life
and asked to be put through to Barnie.

‘Telepathy!' he greeted her. ‘We were talking about you at breakfast; you'll be getting a call from Dinah later.'

‘I already have,' Rona told him. ‘Lunch on Sunday.'

‘Well, she doesn't waste time, I'll say that for her! What can I do for you?'

Quickly and as succinctly as possible, Rona outlined her proposal. When she finished, there was a lengthy silence.

‘What do you think?' she asked, when the suspense became unbearable.

‘Not too keen, to be honest. Principally because I don't want to be responsible for you getting into deep water, and it seems to me that's the way you're heading.'

‘But surely it would be interesting to follow someone's search for her birth parents?'

‘Don't be naïve, Rona; you know as well as I do it's the murder angle that interests you. Oh, I know you've been there before, but at least on those occasions you stumbled into it unknowingly.'

‘Surely being aware of it would give me an advantage? Quite apart from that, though, I'd like to have a go at running the father to earth. OK, so he went to Oz twenty-five years ago, but he might have come back since. If I could find
one
parent for her, it would be something.'

There was another pause. ‘If I said no, would you still go ahead?'

Rona considered the question. ‘Possibly. I was saying to Max that, either way, I'd set myself a time limit to come up with something. If there was absolutely nothing after six weeks, I'd give up. And I reckon, if I have to, I can afford to waste six weeks.'

‘And if something
did
come up?'

‘Well—'

‘I take that as a “yes”. Tell you what: I'm not going to commission this article, and if you write it, I might not publish it. We may need the lawyers to look at it, for one thing. But if you produce something interesting and I feel it's appropriate to the magazine, then I'll certainly consider it. Will that do?'

Rona sighed. ‘I suppose it'll have to,' she said.

That evening, she phoned Zara.

‘Rona! I wasn't expecting – you said the end of the week.'

‘I know, but I've reached my decision.' No need to tell her of Barnie's reservations. ‘I'm prepared to spend six weeks looking into your family, on the understanding that if I can't find anything in that time, I'll give up. Are you agreeable to that?'

‘Oh.' Pause. ‘I suppose so.'

Take it or leave it
, Rona thought. ‘If you want me to go ahead on those terms, I'll need quite a lot more information.'

‘Of course – such as what?'

‘For a start, photocopies of your birth and your mother's death certificates. And I could do with
her
birth certificate, too; that would give your grandparents' full names and address.'

‘Oh, yes! I never—'

‘Did you check for a marriage certificate, by the way?'

‘I checked, but I never expected to find one.'

‘And you didn't?'

‘No.'

‘The next thing is, did you by any chance take copies of the write-ups in the papers?'

‘Yes – every mention we could find.'

‘That's great – could I borrow them? There's no point in duplicating the work.'

Selina Someone
's proper name might appear in the reports, Rona reckoned; failing that, she'd turn up the electoral register. The girl was sharing with Gemma, dammit; it was inconceivable that she hadn't known more than she'd said.

Now for the tricky bit. ‘There's one thing more, Zara. If I find what we're looking for, or any part of it, I must have complete freedom in writing it up. You can read it before I submit it, but on the understanding that the only changes I'll agree to are errors of fact. In other words, even if there are parts you'd rather I left out, they'd have to stand.'

‘You mean, once you've started, I can't change my mind?'

‘Not without very good reason.'

‘OK, I suppose that's fair enough.'

‘Fine. Well, once you have Gemma's birth certificate, we can arrange a meeting to hand over all the relevant papers.' She hesitated, then added gently, ‘It's still not too late to withdraw, if you're having second thoughts.'

Zara gave a little laugh. ‘It just seems so – official, all of a sudden. But no, I've set my heart on finding out as much as I can, and you're my best bet. I'd like you to go ahead.'

‘Fine. We'll be in touch, then.'

The phone rang immediately she put it down, and as she lifted it again, her mother's voice said, ‘Lunch on Sunday all right?'

‘Oh Mum, I'm sorry! You're about twelve hours too late!' Thank goodness! Rona thought involuntarily, hating herself.

‘I didn't realize you required so much notice,' Avril said stiffly.

‘Mel and the children are over from the States – the Trents' daughter, you know – and Dinah's invited us to meet them.'

‘But Sunday's a family day; surely she knows that? Why can't you go on Saturday?'

‘We weren't invited for Saturday,' Rona said, an edge creeping into her voice. Then, against her better judgement, ‘Could we come to you then?'

‘No, that won't do; I've already got something on.'

I
,
not
we
?

‘Sounds interesting; what are you doing?'

‘Playing in a bridge tournament, as it happens.'

‘At the weekend?' A pause. ‘What about Pops?'

‘What about him?'

‘What's he doing while you're out playing bridge?'

‘I've no idea,' Avril said coldly, ‘but don't concern yourself on his account; he spends more time out than in these days – I'm sure he'll think of something.'

Rona drew in her breath, but Avril was continuing: ‘Since you won't even
try
to alter your arrangements, I suppose there's no more to be said. Visits home seem to be a low priority these days.'

‘Oh, for God's sake, Mum!'

‘Perhaps you'll consult your diary and let me know when you're free.' And she rang off.

Rona sat for several minutes before, with deliberation, she put the phone back on its rest. Her irritation with her mother – a more or less permanent state at the moment – was overlaid by acute anxiety about her father.
He spends more time out than in these days.
With Catherine Bishop?

And the thought of Catherine reminded her she still hadn't returned James Latymer's manifesto. Added to which, if she wanted a clear slate by the time she started on her next project, the sooner she obtained his permission to quote from it, the better. There remained, however, the problem of the best way to approach him; she didn't want to butt in on one of his sittings with Max, yet on the other hand, it hardly seemed worth attending one of his surgeries.

The solution was presented to her half an hour later, when Max made his nightly call.

‘Dust off your tiara,' he told her. ‘The Conservatives are having a fundraising cheese and wine party next week, and we've received a personal invitation, courtesy of James Latymer. When I say “invitation”, I am, of course, using the word loosely; we have to pay for the privilege, but you were wanting to meet him, weren't you?'

‘I was indeed; in fact, I'd just been wondering how to wangle it. The invitation went to Farthings?'

‘It's the only address he has for me.'

‘So when is it?'

‘Next Wednesday, six to eight p.m., at the Clarendon.'

‘Lucky it's one of your free evenings. I've had two invitations myself today, both for Sunday lunch.'

‘Uh-oh!'

‘You can relax – Dinah got in first!'

‘The other was presumably your parents?'

‘Yes, and Mamma was not best pleased at being pre-empted.'

‘Another black mark, then. We're building up quite a stockpile.'

Rona said heatedly, ‘And we've done nothing to deserve any of them!'

‘OK, sweetie, don't let it get to you.'

She drew a steadying breath. ‘Sorry.'

‘Any more thoughts on this parent search?'

‘I spoke to Barnie and he wasn't too keen. He's hedging his bets.'

‘I'm not too keen either, in case it escaped your notice.'

‘It'll be all right, Max, honestly.'

‘From which I deduce you're going ahead?'

‘I phoned Zara this evening and said I'll give it six weeks. We'll see how it goes.'

‘Well, if you're going to publicize it, for God's sake only admit to searching for the father. I don't want yet another hitherto undetected murderer coming after you.'

She smiled bleakly. ‘I can't say I do, either. Don't worry, I'll be discreet.'

His sigh reached her down the phone. ‘I thought I was married to a biographer, not a private detective.'

‘You are. And I promise, after this, I really will embark on another. My publishers are getting restive, for one thing, and I have some possibilities in mind.'

The fact that murder had put paid to her last attempt at biography was not mentioned by either of them.

The following morning, before she could find an excuse to delay, she phoned Catherine Bishop.

‘I was wondering when it would be convenient to return the manifesto,' she began brightly.

‘Oh – there's really no hurry. Keep it as long as you need it.'

‘Actually, I don't need it any more; I've made photocopies.'

‘I see. Well, don't make a special journey out here; I'm coming into town this morning to do some shopping. Could we meet for a coffee, say at the Gallery?'

‘That would be fine, thanks.'

‘Eleven o'clock?'

‘I'll be there.'

Rona was thoughtful as she made her way up Fullers Walk towards Guild Street, Gus trotting at her side. She'd been wondering if there was any casual way she could introduce her father into the conversation, in order to gauge Catherine's reactions. On reflection, though, it was an undertaking fraught with peril; if there was any sounding out to do, much better to pick on Pops; at least she knew where she was with him.

The Gallery Café was approached up a wrought-iron staircase between two shopfronts on Guild Street, and led to a walkway above the pavement containing a few boutiques, an art shop, and the café itself, which straddled the corner of Guild Street and Fullers Walk, offering a choice of viewpoint from its window tables.

Catherine was already seated at one of them as Rona and Gus walked in. Gus went straight to her, tail wagging, and accepted a pat before settling himself under the table, careful to avoid the stack of carrier bags propped against the wall.

‘What a pleasure it is to see a well-trained dog!' Catherine remarked, as she picked up the menu. ‘Now, I've decided to be wicked and indulge in a Danish pastry. Can I tempt you?'

Rona smiled. ‘I don't need much tempting.'

‘Fine.' She signalled the waitress and gave the order, checking Rona's preference from the dozen or so types of coffee listed.