‘Why not?’ James said.
Catriona didn’t want Spencer anywhere near her husband, let alone Sebastian. There was no guarantee that five years in prison had changed him from the manipulative person he had been before he was arrested. But, as James continued to beseech her, she knew she would have to agree.
‘Four weeks max,’ she told James. ‘And we’re not leaving him alone with Sebastian. He’d better spend every day he’s here trying to find work and an apartment. I refuse to let him treat our place like a hotel.’
Relief lit up James’s face. ‘He won’t, babe, I promise. Thank you, you’re an angel.’
• • •
Spencer arrived at their door a week later. He was an hour earlier than expected. James had taken Sebastian to the park, so Catriona let him in.
Spencer’s appearance shocked Catriona. She had expected to see a skinny, gaunt-faced man with pale skin from lack of sunlight and perhaps a hunched posture indicating his former confidence had been beaten out of him during his incarceration. But the Spencer who walked through her front door was the same man she remembered: a tall, tanned, handsome man whose presence immediately filled the room. He had certainly lost some weight, and there was more grey in his shortly cropped hair than she remembered, but from looking at him a stranger would never guess that he had spent the past five years of his life in prison.
‘Catriona, thanks for this. I really appreciate your help.’ Spencer was carrying a small overnight bag, which he placed in the corner of the living room. As Catriona realised it contained all the belongings he had now she felt a pang of sympathy for him against her will.
She remembered the promise she had made to James that she would be nice to Spencer, so she resisted the urge to lecture him about how she expected him to behave while he was staying with them. ‘It’s fine, really. Can I get you a coffee?’
‘White with one, please, that’d be great.’
As she busied herself with the coffee machine, Catriona stole a glance at Spencer. He had obviously spent a lot of time working out while he was in prison, because his torso and arms under his ill-fitting striped shirt revealed a toned physique. The material strained across his back and shoulders.
Spencer picked up a recent photo of Sebastian from the mantelpiece and smiled. Catriona had forgotten he had always had an alluring smile.
‘Wow, he’s a cutie, isn’t he?’ he said to Catriona over the groan of the coffee machine. ‘I can’t wait to meet him.’
She walked over carrying two cups and set them on the table.
Spencer sat on the couch and crossed his right ankle over his left knee, revealing socks that didn’t match. ‘How old is he now?’
‘Eighteen months. He’ll be two in February. James will be back soon.’
She wasn’t sure why she added that last bit. Maybe it was just the thought that Spencer hadn’t been around women in a long time, or the knowledge that he had been in the company of criminals for the past five years, but she felt overly conscious of them being alone together. She tried to think of something to say, but her mind wasn’t cooperating with her.
Spencer studied Catriona for a few seconds, which made her uncomfortable. ‘I know you’re probably not thrilled with me being here, and I completely understand that.’
‘No, not at all,’ she said. She meant to come across as genuine, but she was sure her protest had sounded weak. ‘James really wanted you to stay . . .’
As she trailed off, Spencer smiled gently at her. ‘Catriona, it’s fine. If I was in your shoes I wouldn’t want a felon around my son either. But I can promise you that being in prison has changed me. I really do want to make an honest go of things this time.’
He paused to take a sip of his coffee. ‘Wow, that’s good. You wouldn’t believe the washing-up water that passes for coffee in prison.’
Catriona turned the corners of her mouth up into a smile, but her expression remained wary. ‘It’s a good machine. James and I have become total coffee snobs since we got it. We can’t stand the taste of instant now.’
‘I would have killed for a decent cup of instant in prison.’
On seeing her reaction, Spencer laughed. ‘Just an expression, I didn’t mean that literally. A six pack of Boag’s on the other hand . . .’
They sipped their coffee in silence, looking in opposite directions, until Spencer put down his cup and spoke again. ‘Please don’t worry that I’m going to lead James astray.’ He indicated the photos of Sebastian on the mantelpiece. ‘He’s obviously made a great life for himself and I feel terrible that I nearly ruined that for him. I really appreciate you giving me a place to stay for the next few weeks and I promise you I’ll get on my feet as quickly as possible.’
Catriona considered Spencer’s comments as she finished her coffee. He certainly seemed earnest and sincere, but then he had always been skilled at telling people what they wanted to hear. Maybe this was just more of the same.
When James arrived home a few minutes later he walked over to Spencer and hugged him while Sebastian hid behind his leg. ‘Mate, how’s things? What have you been up to?’
‘Oh, you know, prison and all.’ Spencer laughed at his own joke and then crouched down to look at Sebastian. ‘Hey, little fella. You’re pretty cute, aren’t you?’
Catriona couldn’t help but smile when she saw how happy it made James to have his friend with him. But Spencer’s politeness and gratitude didn’t convince her that he had changed. As James and Spencer chatted, Catriona surreptitiously picked up an expensive crystal vase from the end table, a wedding present from her parents, and hid it in a kitchen cupboard behind the pots and pans.
• • •
Catriona couldn’t shake the feeling that Spencer and James were plotting something they didn’t want her to know about. He had been with them for four weeks, the maximum time she had been assured he would stay, but he seemed no closer to finding a job and moving out than he had been the day he arrived. Several times she had arrived home from work to find James and Spencer talking in low voices, their heads bent close together. As soon as they noticed her they would break apart and straighten up. When she asked what they had been talking about she was given a sketchy response, followed by a quick change of topic in conversation.
After it happened a fourth time, Catriona had had enough. That night, as they cleaned up the kitchen after dinner, she decided to question James. Spencer had gone upstairs a few minutes earlier, saying that he was going to read in bed for a while. He was sleeping in the nursery, on a blow-up mattress, so they had moved Sebastian’s cot into their bedroom. Spencer had protested taking over Sebastian’s room and said he would be more than happy on the couch, but James insisted.
‘What were you and Spencer talking about when I got home tonight?’ Catriona asked as she handed a plate to James to stack in the dishwasher.
He turned to look at her. ‘What do you mean? I can’t remember what we were talking about.’
‘When I walked in I heard you talking about hiding something from me, then you stopped as soon as you heard me walking down the hallway.’
James furrowed his brow. ‘Hiding something? That doesn’t make any sense. Are you sure you heard right?’
‘Don’t patronise me, I know what I heard. What were you talking about? What are you two up to?’
James’s mouth tightened. ‘I don’t like what you’re implying. I told you Spencer’s straight now, he’s not going to go off and start one of his dodgy schemes again.’
‘So, what’s he going to do, then?’ she asked. ‘Four weeks and he hasn’t found a job yet.’
‘It’s hard for him. No-one’s willing to take on a guy who has spent time in prison.’
‘Surely someone will. He could work at McDonald’s, or clean office buildings.’
‘And how the hell do you expect him to pay rent on a cleaner’s salary?’ James said, his cheeks slowly turning red. ‘How demeaning would that be for him? He’s an intelligent guy and you expec
t him to clean toilets for a living? Hasn’t prison been enough of a punishment? Does he have to spend a whole lifetime paying for what he did? It was just marijuana anyway, for God’s sake, it’s not like he killed someone.’
‘I know you idolise him, but you can’t honestly think that he’s just going to walk into a great job.’
James’s cheeks turned a darker shade of red. ‘And why shouldn’t he? He’s done his time, he deserves another chance. He’d do a much better job than some kid straight out of school.’
‘All right, all right, calm down. You look like your head’s going to explode. All I’m saying is that any job is better than nothing. He’s better off taking whatever he can get for now and then I’m sure it will be easier for him to find a better job once he starts working again.’
‘He’s trying. Give him a break. And why does it matter if he stays with us a bit longer anyway? He fixed that dodgy light you’ve been going on about for ages, and replaced the laundry door. And you can’t say he isn’t good with Sebastian. He’s a natural with kids.’
‘So, what . . . you want him to live with us permanently, then? In our two-bedroom house? I’m not sure this house is big enough for three people, let alone four.’
When James didn’t reply Catriona set the rest of the dishes in the sink, rinsed her hands under the tap and wiped them dry on a tea towel. ‘I didn’t mean to make you angry, but you know he can’t stay with us forever. I’ll put up with it for a few more weeks, but that’s it.’
She left James in the kitchen and went to bed.
When Catriona got up the next morning and went downstairs to make breakfast she found Spencer already up and in the kitchen, cooking scrambled eggs.
‘What’s this?’ she asked him.
‘I thought I’d be a good house guest and make you breakfast. I don’t want you thinking I’m taking advantage of your hospitality.’
She eyed him suspiciously. ‘But what made you decide to do that today? You’ve been here for four weeks.’
Spencer looked up from the frying pan. ‘I overheard what you said to James last night about me needing to get my act together and get a job.’
Catriona tried to get the words out to apologise.
Spencer stopped her. ‘It’s fine, really. You were right. I can’t expect to just walk into any job. I probably wouldn’t hire someone who’s been in prison, so why would anyone else be any different?’
When the toast popped up Spencer took a piece, covered it in a mound of perfectly scrambled eggs and passed it to the other side of the breakfast bar where Catriona sat watching him.
‘You look really pretty today,’ he said. ‘That colour suits you. It matches your eyes.’
Catriona suddenly felt self-conscious in her emerald green shirt-dress.
‘It’s one of the only things not covered in food,’ she said, tugging at the dress. ‘Sebastian splatters everyone within a five-metre radius when he eats.’
‘I’ve noticed,’ Spencer said. ‘Well, you look great anyway. James is a lucky guy.’
Catriona smiled as she directed a forkful of eggs towards her mouth. ‘Don’t waste your flattery on me. Save it up for some unsuspecting girl you meet in a bar.’
Spencer prepared a plate of eggs for himself and then joined Catriona at the breakfast bar, bringing a cup of coffee for each of them.
‘None for James?’ she asked.
‘No, that lazy sod can get his own if he’s still asleep.’
They sat in silence for a few minutes, eating their breakfast. Catriona was aware of how close Spencer was sitting to her. Their knees touched a couple of times as one of them changed position on their stool. She felt a repeat of the initial nervousness she had felt on the day he arrived.
‘So,’ she said lightly, in an attempt to break the tension. ‘Enough about finding a job, we need to concentrate on something much more important. How are we going to find you a girlfriend?’
Spencer let out a throaty laugh. ‘A girlfriend? I’m not sure I have much to offer anyone at the moment.’
‘Don’t be silly, of course you do. You’re a charming, good-looking guy. I’m sure a lot of girls would give their right arm to be with you.’
‘Is that right?’ Spencer asked, looking intensely at Catriona and leaving her momentarily breathless. ‘You’ve never said that to me before.’
‘Haven’t I?’ she asked, scrambling to think of what to say to diffuse what had become another tense moment. ‘Well, you’re not my type, of course – I mean, just look at James – but plenty of girls would find you attractive.’
Spencer smiled. ‘That’s nice of you to say.’ He looked down at his plate. ‘Just so you know, I’ve always thought the same about you.’
James walked into the kitchen wearing pyjama pants and holding Sebastian.
‘Well, this looks cosy,’ he said. ‘Glad to see you two are getting along.’
‘I should be off, actually,’ Catriona said as she climbed down from the stool and adjusted her dress. ‘I have an early meeting.’
She dumped her dishes into the sink and picked up her handbag from the kitchen bench.
‘Thanks for breakfast,’ she said to Spencer before she kissed James and brushed her hand over Sebastian’s hair.
‘Catriona?’ Spencer said.
She turned to face him. ‘Yes?’
‘You certainly keep your vases in interesting spots.’
As the front door closed behind her, Catriona let out a deep breath. What was that? Last night she had been ready to throw Spencer out of the house, but this morning she had practically swooned while he was talking to her. As she walked towards the bus stop, an intense embarrassment set in. What would James have thought if he had overheard their conversation? She remained flustered for the rest of the day, struggling to maintain conversations and concentrate on her work. That evening she said little to James or Spencer and went to bed early so she didn’t have to question why being around Spencer suddenly made her feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.
14
DIANA
Tuesday, 13 August 2013
When Diana hadn’t heard from Sergeant Thomas for two days after she sent the email about her encounter with the child in the department store, she decided to pay him another visit.
The receptionist at the police station greeted Diana before she had a chance to announce herself. They had all become used to her presence at the station. She was the woman with the missing son, the one who would wait for hours for Sergeant Thomas to return, often holding a blue shoebox on her lap. She would stare at the wall, not reading, not looking at her phone, for as long as it took for the receptionist to call her. This was the third receptionist who had worked at the station since Diana had first started to visit. Her name was Jenny. She had always been friendly to Diana, not like the previous woman who had regarded her as she would a homeless person off the street. Diana knew how she looked to people. She saw the woman in the mirror with crumpled clothes and bloodshot eyes, a complexion that had turned grey from lack of sunlight. But she didn’t care. Her appearance no longer meant anything to her.
Diana stared at Jenny’s pink-painted fingernails, which held on to the phone receiver. She spoke too quietly for Diana to hear, but after a few seconds Jenny hung up the phone and smiled at her. ‘He’s free, you can go back and see him.’
Diana walked through the familiar hallways until she reached the closed door of Sergeant Thomas’s office. She knocked once out of courtesy but didn’t wait for a response before she turned the handle and walked in.
Sergeant Thomas stood up as she entered the room. ‘Diana, how have you been?’
‘I’m good,’ she responded automatically, before she realised how false it sounded.
He gestured to the chairs facing his desk and she sat in the one closest to the door.
‘You’ve come about the email?’ Sergeant Thomas asked as he sat back down.
‘I really think it’s him this time,’ she said, leaning forwar
d, her hands on her knees. ‘That last one I sent you, where the boy is on the woman’s hip. I saw him up close and the resemblance was uncanny.’
Sergeant Thomas rubbed his eyes. ‘You have to stop doing this to yourself. I promise you we haven’t given up on Noah, not even a little bit. It’s taking a long time, I know, but we’ll find him for you.’
‘Did you even look at the photo? Can’t you see how much it looks like Noah?’ Diana’s fingers were clenched so hard on her knees that her knuckles had turned white. ‘You have to look into this for me. I think it’s him, you can’t let him get away.’
Sergeant Thomas stood up and walked around his desk so he was standing in front of her. She had to sit back in her chair to look up at his face.
‘I did look at the photo,’ he said. ‘And I agree there’s a strong resemblance. But Noah was only two months old when he was taken from you, so we have no way of knowing exactly how he would look now.’
She opened the locket around her neck. Each side now held a photo of Noah. ‘Look at this photo,’ she said, pointing to the one on the left. ‘Look at his eyes. Then look at the photo I sent you. It’s Noah, it has to be.’
Sergeant Thomas let the locket rest on his fingertips while he looked at the photos. As she watched him, Diana considered how much he had aged over the nearly two years she had known him. The ruddiness in his cheeks had morphed into a pallid complexion not dissimilar to hers, heavy bags darkening the skin under his eyes. It seemed like searching for Noah had taken its toll on Sergeant Thomas almost as much as it had on her.
‘We just can’t be sure,’ he said, letting the locket drop from his fingers. ‘He was so young.’
As Diana opened her mouth to protest, Sergeant Thomas stopped her. ‘But I’ll look into it, I promise. Just like I’ve looked into the other photos you’ve come to me with.’
‘Thank you, Sergeant Thomas, I really appreciate—’
‘But,’ he said, ‘I will look into this on one condition: that you stop torturing yourself with these photos and these supposed leads. Please just try to concentrate on yourself, and your husband. How is Liam?’
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