The Green Room by Faith Mortimer

Author:Faith Mortimer [Mortimer, Faith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Topsails Charter
Published: 2015-12-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five - Ella

Michael shifted in his seat, one hand in his lap, the other curled round his beer glass. He held his upper body and face taut and stiff. I had his full attention now. “He said that? Did he mention anyone else he knew in the bar? Was the girl alone all the time, or did anyone approach her? Did your friend say anything to her? Buy her a drink. Did she leave before your father?”

“Whoa! Hold on, Michael. You’re asking too many questions at once. I’m not the one you should interrogate.”

He held up his hands and grinned. “Sorry, habit. Go on. I won’t interrupt again. Promise.”

“Where did I get to? Oh yes. My friend seemed a bit dazed and then shook his head emphatically. He said Dad was wrong and he hadn’t visited the bar that evening. He then went on to explain he’d been to a party that very night, and then he turned to me and asked me to back up his statement, as we’d been at the same party. I thought it a bit strange because he seemed so upset. After all, Dad wasn’t accusing him of anything, just that he remembered his face. My friend seemed to turn it into something much bigger.”

“And was he right? Were you both at the same party?” Michael asked before taking a mouthful of beer. He patted his pockets for a moment before looking sheepish. “Christ, I wish I still smoked…I’d give anything for a ciggie. Why did I ever listen to you? I’ve always enjoyed a smoke.”

I nodded, ignored his mutterings about cigarettes and carried on. “Yes, we were at the same party. I told Dad it must have been another night. On hearing that, he looked puzzled and really dismayed, saying he was so sure, he could see it all in his mind. Then he gave in and said quietly, ‘My mind must be playing up. I got confused over the time.’

I rolled my glass between my hands, remembering how I felt at the time, that something didn’t seem right. I stared Michael full in the face. “I’m sure Dad was correct. He has an amazing ability for remembering things. If he said my friend was there, then I believe him.”

Michael frowned, an expression of exasperation crossing his face. “You’re not making sense, Ella. You just said you were at the same party, and now you’re saying your father didn’t make a mistake. Sorry, sweet pea, but you’re confusing me.”

I shook my head. “I haven’t finished. Both facts are right, I believe. Think about it. We’ve been to the theatre together, and the last act usually finishes no later than around half ten or near eleven at the latest. I’ve no idea what time The Green Room bar closes, but Dad often visits after seeing a play and never gets home later than eleven thirty or thereabouts. I was puzzled until I recalled my friend turning up at the party. It was actually quite late.

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