face. ‘Yeah. It’s not the best breakfast I’ve ever had.’
Paul smiled at her again. ‘Perhaps I can take you to a hotel sometime where they do fantastic breakfasts. In the Lake District. Views to die for, and four poster beds.’
‘Sounds good,’ she said, trying to keep her voice level. ‘I do love a good breakfast.’
There was one Evergreen listed in the Salisbury phone directory. The initials were wrong, but after all this time Sarah was probably married and living somewhere else. It was almost certainly a relative though – hopefully her parents.
‘Assuming they’re the right Evergreens, of course,’ Paul said.
‘Should we call first?’ Kate asked doubtfully. ‘Jack, don’t do that, honey, you might get your fingers trapped.’ Jack, bored, had been playing with the heavy fire door leading up to the hotel bedrooms, as Kate and Paul leafed through the directory beside the payphone in Reception.
‘No. We’ve got plenty of time. Let’s just drive over there and see if they’re in. And if it’s them, of course. You can just say you’re an old friend of Sarah’s.’
‘What about Jack? Jack – stop it!’
Paul looked over at Jack, who was now kicking the door disconsolately.
‘Yeah. A bit boring for him, really,’ Paul said. ‘I don’t think he should come in with us. I’ll buy a ball and take him for a kick around in their garden, if they’ve got one, while you’re chatting.’
Kate hoped the Evergreens would be accommodating. It seemed a bit cheeky to turn up invited and then ask that Jack could go and play football in their back garden. ‘Or in a local park.’
‘Whatever. Let’s go.’ Paul called to Jack: ‘Come on mate, we’re going to buy a football!’
Football duly purchased from a newsagent’s near the hotel, the three of them set off in the car, heading for a village on the other side of Salisbury called Quidhampton. According to their map, the Evergreens lived on the main road through the village.
‘Although I wouldn’t really call this a main road,’ Kate said, as Paul drove slowly down what was more like a narrow country lane.
‘There! Primrose Cottage,’ Paul cried, pointing at a low, Thirties-style bungalow.
‘Wouldn’t really call that a cottage, either,’ she said, trying to swallow down the nerves in her belly at what she was about to have to do.
‘Where are we going? Can we play football now?’ Jack had undone his seatbelt before the car had pulled to a halt.
‘Hang on, mate. We just have to go and see if these people are the mum and dad of someone your Mummy used to know, a lady called Sarah.’
‘Why?’
Paul and Kate looked at one another. ‘Bit tricky to explain,’ said Paul. ‘It’s a long story.’ He turned back to Kate. ‘She might even still live at home. That would be handy, wouldn’t it? Save a bit of time.’
‘Mmm,’ Kate said, not at all sure if she was ready for this. Jack opened his mouth to demand more explanations, so she added hastily: ‘You’re being a very good boy, Jack. Promise you’ll be good a little while longer, while I talk to them, OK?’
‘OK. As long as I can have an ice-cream afterwards,’ Jack said moodily.
Kate had imagined that Sarah’s parents would be an elderly couple, and so when a very attractive, youthful woman in her fifties opened the door, Kate initially assumed that they had the wrong Evergreens.
‘Um – hello,’ she said. ‘I’m really sorry to bother you. I’m looking for Sarah Evergreen’s parents? I’m an old friend of hers.’
The woman was silent for a moment, and the look on her face told Kate that she hadn’t come to the wrong place after all. She wondered if Sarah and her family might be estranged – Sarah had been a stroppy madam when Kate knew her.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I am Sarah’s mother.’ She smiled then, and stuck out her hand. ‘Any friends of Sarah’s are welcome here. I don’t recognise you, do I? Have we met before? I’m Angela.’
‘Kate.’ Kate shook Angela’s hand, and smiled back. ‘I knew Sarah from the Cold Research Unit. This is my friend Paul, and my son, Jack.’
Angela flinched at the mention of the CRU. Both Kate and Paul noticed, and Paul raised his eyebrows at Kate when Angela wasn’t looking.
‘Come in, come in, I’ll put the kettle on. Hello, Jack, I like your robot, he’s rather super, isn’t he?’
‘He’s called Billy,’ Jack said, hiding behind Kate’s legs.
They processed into the small house, taking up too much room in the cramped living room. There was a huge painting of Sarah, a photograph which had been rendered in oil on canvas, hanging over the fireplace, and Kate recognised her immediately.
‘How is Sarah?’ Kate asked, thinking how attractive she looked in that picture. ‘It’s been ages since I saw her. We meant to keep in touch, but . . .’ Her voice petered out at Angela’s expression.
‘You don’t know? I thought you said you were at the CRU with her?’
Kate glanced at Paul. ‘I was. We were room-mates. What . . .?’
‘So you were there the night of the fire?’
‘Yes.’ Kate had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. She reached out and took hold of Paul’s hand. Even Jack was quiet, sensing the atmosphere. He’d retreated to an armchair, where he was tinkering with Billy.
Angela swallowed hard, and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m so sorry to have to tell you this. I assumed you’d already know. But Sarah – she died in the fire.’
‘No she didn’t!’ Kate blurted, without thinking.
‘Kate!’ Paul squeezed her hand.
‘I know this must come as a shock to you, but I’m afraid it’s true. She became trapped in the burning building and . . . didn’t manage to escape.’
Kate shook her head. ‘No. No.’
Angela thought she was upset at the news, and ushered her over to the sofa, pressing her shoulder gently to make her sit down. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t read about it in the papers afterwards?’
Paul sidled over to Jack, and began chatting quietly to him about Billy’s myriad functions.
‘I’m not from Salisbury. Anyway, I was in hospital for some time after the fire, and then I went away to the States. That’s why I didn’t know.’
‘Were you and Sarah very good friends?’
Kate blushed. ‘Um. Well. We hadn’t known each other long. We had a few laughs together.’ She avoided Paul’s eye.
‘Let me make
