‘I think she lives upstairs at the pub. You don’t see hide nor hair of her all day, mind. She only comes out at night.’
‘Like a vampire.’
Kathy laughed, wearily, at that. ‘Yeah, you could be right, love. Perhaps she’s a vampire.’
‘Was he still living with you, when he disappeared?’
‘No, duck, no. He was sofa-surfing, as they call it. I couldn’t cope with him. I wasn’t the best mother to him, I’ll hold me hands up. I suppose he was what you could call neglected. But I love him, and I miss him, every day and I keep thinking he’ll walk through that door with his big, cheeky smile …’
She broke off, and Jenna put a hand on her shoulder, feeling it shake beneath the lint-covered vest top.
‘You know, I think he’s all right, Kathy. Don’t ask me how I know but I just have this feeling that he’s fine.’
‘You’re very kind, love. I hope you’re right.’ She choked back a sob. ‘He was such a gorgeous little boy.’
‘Thank you for talking to me about him. Would you mind very much if I borrowed some of his artwork? I’d like to show it to a friend of mine who owns a gallery?’
‘For real?’
‘For real. It’s
so good. I think she’d like to see it.’
‘Well, OK, duck. I’ll go and get a few bits together. I can’t give you any of these in here because you can see how I’m fixed – it’s my wallpaper.’
While Kathy shuffled off to a bedroom to gather up some more of what seemed to be an extensive collection of Jason’s work, Jenna had a surreptitious search of the living room. She could find nothing that might help Jason out of his predicament, though, so she took the armful of teenage masterpieces, thanked Kathy for her hospitality and determined to try Mia at the pub.
‘She won’t be up,’ warned the landlord. ‘What do you want with her, anyway?’
‘It’s business. She does karaoke, doesn’t she? I was thinking of hiring her for my Gala, up at Harville Hall.’
‘You’re bringing back the Gala? Blimey, that’s a blast from the past. Won’t be the same, though, will it? Too much water under the bridge.’
‘I thought it might cheer everyone up a bit. Bledburn’s got that miserable since I left.’
‘Well, you’re not wrong there. I’ll give her a shout, but she’ll be dead to the world, I can guarantee it.’
The landlord disappeared upstairs, leaving Jenna with two inquisitive Staffies to look after. They panted and circled her legs, barking at each other, until the landlord returned, his face giving away the answer to her request before he had to speak it.
‘No chance,’ he said. ‘She’s not getting out of her pit for anyone till six this evening.’
‘OK, well, could you pass on my number, then? Ask her to call me. Jenna Myatt. About the karaoke.’
‘Will do.’
The landlord looked after her with bemusement as she left the pub. The people of the estate had got used to having a celebrity on their midst, and barely turned a hair when she appeared on the scene now. They had never been easily impressed, mind you. This estate was for people who could prove themselves in a hard world.
Hardly any of them even asked after Deano any more, although she was still regularly quizzed about whether Colin Samson, her nasty co-host, was ‘really like that’.
She thought about Deano as she drove home. How was he, now? Did he miss her? Did he have regrets?
Only one man was on her mind when she arrived at the Hall, though, especially when she went out into the garden to find him hacking at the dead and overgrown rosebushes in nothing but his tight jeans.
She didn’t tell him she was back, at first, but stood at a distance, behind some brown greenery, watching him. His upper arms were tight and strong, and his back and shoulder blades flexed as he sheared. He hadn’t forgotten to put sunscreen on and his skin shone, taking on the beginnings of a tan. He could probably do with a haircut, she thought, watching him smooth it back when it fell in his face, but it wasn’t in a terrible state. Unlike those rosebushes.
He dropped the shears and picked up a water bottle from the grass, tipping his head back to let it splash all over his face and glug into his mouth.
She crept up behind him, but he heard the crackle of the grass and spun around, the bottle held in his hand like a weapon.