‘Do you know how they met?’
‘Oh, she was his secretary, back in the day. That building firm of his? I used to work there too, until I had Jamie, at which point he hired her. I turned up one afternoon with the baby in the stroller to find this bimbo in stilettos and a short skirt and earrings the size of hubcaps. I said to Barry, she’d be quite pretty if she didn’t try so damned hard. She was supposed to be engaged to someone back then. A mechanic – Terry or Darren or some such. But he clearly wasn’t going to deliver the lifestyle she was after, and I think she set her sights on Barry the minute she clapped eyes on him. It was Barry this, Barry that – in fact, we used to joke about it. But she must have got him into bed eventually because the next thing I know she’s claiming to be pregnant and Barry’s being led by his you-know-what straight into the divorce courts. I made him pay though. For the company, I mean. He’d put it all in my name in case he ever went bust, and I forced him to buy me out at the top of the market. He had to take out the most enormous loan.’
And what with that and the child support, no wonder money is tight. I make a note to myself and then look up at her again. I’m sure the tan is fake. The tits certainly are.
I gesture round the room. ‘You seem to have moved on very successfully.’
She laughs, a little self-consciously. ‘Oh, Marcus is much better husband material than Barry ever was. He’s not that interested in sex.’
She smooths her skirt over her rather too visible thighs, and eyes me, an unspoken question hanging in the air. But I have a type too, and believe me, Moira Northam’s not even close.
She stares at her manicure, and then at me. ‘And Marcus already had the requisite son and heir so I didn’t need to ruin my figure having any more.’
I smile. It seems called for. ‘You said “claimed”.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Just now, you said Sharon “claimed” to be pregnant. Wasn’t she?’
She opens her hands and the bangles jangle again. ‘Who knows? It’s the oldest trick in the book, after all, and men never seem to know any different. Lord, you’d think they’d have learned to keep it in their pants by now. All I do know is, nine months later, no baby. And they had to have IVF to have Daisy. Or at least that’s what someone told me.’
And that probably cost them too.
‘And as far as you know, Daisy didn’t know she had a half-brother – she didn’t know about Jamie?’
‘Not unless Sharon or Barry told her, and I think that’s highly unlikely. As far as Sharon’s concerned, Barry’s life before her has been entirely – what’s that word? Redacted. That’s it. Even to the extent of claiming that she only started seeing him after we divorced, which is obviously completely untrue.’
‘And did Jamie know about Daisy?’
She flushes, just a little, under the tan. ‘I can assure you I never mentioned her. I have no idea how Jamie can possibly have found out. I’m afraid you will have to ask him.’
‘I’ll do that. I will also be asking him – again – about where he was when Daisy Mason disappeared. Because until we can confirm his whereabouts I’m afraid we can’t eliminate him from our inquiries.’
She smiles. ‘That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t know why Jamie is being so stubborn – perhaps he thinks a spell in the cells will do wonders for his street cred with those insalubrious associates of his. Anyway, the point is this: I know precisely where he was on Tuesday afternoon. He was with me.’
‘That’s easy to say, Mrs Northam – ’
‘Very possibly. But I happen to have proof. Marcus’s niece is getting married next week, and we were at my ghastly sister-in-law’s for the rehearsal. There are even pictures, though Jamie won’t thank me for showing them to you. He doesn’t like to be seen in proper trousers. Lord knows how I’m ever going to shoe-horn him into morning dress.’
She takes out her phone, finds the photos and passes the handset over to me. I notice, in passing, how easily her hands give her away. Her face is botox-bland but her hands are veining and blotching with age. She reaches for a tissue in her handbag and I see it’s exactly the same as Sharon’s. Only I’m prepared to bet this is one thing about her that’s the genuine article.
‘So,’ she says, giving me the full force of her smile, ‘can you release Jamie now?’
I pass her back the phone and get to my feet. ‘I need to ask him a few final questions. I imagine you’d want to be there for that. I can give you a lift back now or you can meet me at the station. And after that we can release him into your charge. You can have him back here tonight.’
She glances at her watch – more gold. ‘We have the Andersons coming this evening. I can’t cancel that – Nicholas Anderson is our local councillor. Perhaps you could get that social worker person to step in again?’
Like I said, Barry Mason has a type.
*
When I eventually get home, Alex has already gone to bed. The bottle of sleeping pills is open on the bedside table. I pick it up – mechanically – to check the weight. Alex has always been the strong one of the two of us. Or at least I always thought so. I remember my best man calling her my rock, and everyone at the reception smiling and nodding, recognizing the Alex they knew. It was the Alex I knew too, even though I hated the cliché. It’s only in the last few months that I’ve realized how terrifyingly apt it can be. Because rocks aren’t flexible, rocks don’t give. Alex’s sort of strength, faced with the unbearable – it just splinters. That’s why I check her sleeping pills. And why I make sure she never sees me do it. I can’t let her think I see a connection. I can’t let her think she’s to blame. She feels responsible enough already, without that.
Downstairs, I pour myself a large glass of Merlot and take the DVD into the sitting room. The image on the case is of Daisy. Daisy in a swimming pool, smiling up into the camera. It’s a DVD sent to her mother, and it should – for that reason alone – be completely innocent. But all I can think of is that chilling fairy story. And that birthday card. As the machine loads, I read the note that came with it.
Havenview Care Home
Yeading Road
Carshalton
20th July 2016
Dear Mrs Mason,
Thank you for sending your contribution to Sadie’s ‘treasure chest’. Collecting items that have a special memory attached to them, or which recall times gone by, is proving to be a very effective way to stimulate our residents with Alzheimer’s, and help them keep a connection with their past.
Sadly, I’m afraid this particular item has not been as successful as we had hoped. We showed Sadie the film, and at first there was very little reaction, but when we got to the section featuring your little girl she became extremely distressed and started to talk about someone called ‘Jessica’. She was so upset that we decided, with regret, the film was doing more harm than good. I am very sorry. I am returning the DVD in case you have another use for it.
Yours sincerely,
Monica Hapgood (Care Manager)
So Sharon Mason hasn’t told her mother’s carers she had had two daughters, not one.
I pick up the remote and press Play. There’s a blank blue screen, and then a title: To Mum, From Sharon, Barry, Leo and Daisy. Then