Sister Sister(71)

The neighbour appraises me once more. ‘Yeah, the kid was called Nathaniel. If you’re trying get hold of them, why don’t you message him back on Facebook?’

Bloody hell, she’s proving quite a match for me. Why wouldn’t I do that? From nowhere I manage a fast response. ‘We weren’t friends on Facebook and I can’t find him again. You know, all those privacy settings. You don’t happen to have their address or a phone number?’

I get another long, hard look from her before she makes up her mind. ‘Wait there.’ She disappears and comes back a few minutes later. She waves a piece of paper over the fence. ‘That’s their address and phone number. You may wanna ring first. She’s up in Jacksonville.’

‘Okay, thanks,’ I say, reaching to take the piece of paper.

She snatches it away. ‘First, though, you can do me a favour and put those bins out.’

I suppose I can’t complain. It’s a fair exchange and I really want that address and phone number.

The neighbour watches while I put the two wheelie bins out and then, once I’ve done that and she’s satisfied that I’ve fulfilled my part of the bargain, she hands over the slip of paper.

I retreat to the car and drive out of the cul-de-sac, making my way back to Jasmine Street. I’m probably not supposed to pull over and stop, but I do anyway. I’ll plead tourist ignorance and use my best English accent, flutter my eyelashes and offer sincere apologies if the police come by.

I call the number on the paper and it’s answered on the fourth ring.

‘Hello.’ The voice is female but that is all I can tell from the one-word answer.

‘Hi. Is Roma Kendrick there please?’

‘Speaking.’

‘Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m trying to get in touch with Alice Kendrick and I’ve been given your number. You don’t happen to know where she is, do you?’

‘Er … who is this please?’

‘I’m Clare Tennison.’ I wait for any recognition. There’s a silence and now I’m wishing I was speaking face to face. At least that way Roma wouldn’t be able to hang up on me, something which, the longer the silence, the more it seems likely.

‘I’m sorry. Do I know you?’ she says at last. ‘And why do you want to get in touch with Alice?’

‘No, you don’t know me. Before I was Clare Tennison I was Clare Kennedy. My father was Patrick Kennedy, although you will probably have known him as Patrick Kendrick. I’m trying to get in touch with Alice because … she’s … she’s my sister.’I hear the small intake of breath. ‘Her sister?’

‘Yes. I grew up in England with my mother. We didn’t have contact with Alice for a long time.’

‘Yes, I know that. Well, I mean I know about Patrick moving over here with his daughter but not about the name-change. Are you sure you have this right?’

‘Yes, I’m positive.’

‘I’m sorry, you’ve taken me completely by surprise,’ says Roma.

‘I expect I have. Sorry.’

‘It’s okay. Er, how did you get my number?’ asks Roma.

‘Alice’s neighbour gave it to me. An older lady, at number 25.’

‘Mrs Karvowski,’ says Roma. ‘She’s quite a character, that one. What did she say about Ali?’

It seems an odd question, but I run with it for now. ‘Nothing, really. Just that she hadn’t seen her for a few weeks.’ I hesitate, wondering whether to add a further explanation and decide there would be no point not telling Roma. ‘The neighbour, Mrs Karvowski, said Alice had decided to go travelling. In Europe.’

‘Really? Just like that?’

‘I got the impression from the neighbour that things had been getting on top of Alice recently. She hadn’t told you that, then?’

‘No. She hadn’t.’

‘Have you seen or spoken to her recently?’ I press.

I don’t know whether it’s the hesitation or the tone of Roma’s voice when she replies, but she sounds distant and pensive. ‘No. No, I haven’t. Not for a while now.’

‘Mrs Kendrick, is there any chance we could have a chat in person, you know, face to face? Over a coffee, maybe?’ I’m sure I’d be able to gauge Alice’s stepmother a lot better if I could see her face to face.

‘Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.’

‘Please, Mrs Kendrick. I’d really appreciate it. I won’t take up much of your time and I can drive to you.’ I look at my watch. ‘I could be with you within an hour.’ I realise I’m almost bullying her into agreeing, but I’m desperate. I’m sure I can get more information out of her once I have her as a captive audience, so to speak. ‘Please …’