The House at the End of Hope Street: A Novel by Menna van Praag

Author:Menna van Praag [Praag, Menna van]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780670784639
Amazon: 067078463X
Publisher: Pamela Dorman Books
Published: 2013-04-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

I only know his name,” Alba explains. “And that he lived in a remote Scottish village for sixteen years, and used to be a teacher.”

“Nothing else?”

“I have these letters.” Alba pushes the shoebox across the desk. “But they’re personal. They don’t have any information that’ll help you find him.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” The detective takes the box and opens the lid.

“I went looking for him in Inverie,” Alba says, “but he’d left four years ago and no one knew where he went. Or maybe they did and just wouldn’t tell me. Either way . . .”

“It doesn’t matter,” the detective says. “I’m quite sure I won’t need to go there. But if I do, you’ll cover all expenses, in addition to my time. Are you fine with that?”

Alba nods. She still has the rest of her student loan fund and nothing else to spend it on. Of course, in five weeks she’ll have to find a new place to live and something to do with the rest of her life, so there is that to consider. But for now finding her father is all that matters.

“It’s a shame you don’t have a photograph,” he says, “or a bit more to go on. But I’ll do my best and we’ll see where it takes us.”

“And you’ll give me weekly updates?”

“Yes. Or call you as soon as I get anything concrete.”

—

Yesterday Albert lied his way into King’s College, then tracked down and interrogated Alba’s former supervisor about her whereabouts. Dr. Skinner was suspicious and obtuse, claiming to have no idea where she could be, claiming to hardly remember Alba Ashby at all.

“I don’t know. One day she just up and left—”

“Two months ago,” Albert said, “April thirtieth was the last day I saw her.”

“Yes, something like that. Must have cracked under the pressure. Quite a few of them do. Probably went running home to mummy—”

“No.” Albert suppressed an overwhelming desire to knock Dr. Skinner down. “She didn’t do that. Her mother is dead.” It was the first time he had spoken the words out loud. They tasted black and bitter as soot.

“Well, then, I’m afraid I can’t help you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.” And with that, Dr. Skinner had turned and walked away, leaving Albert standing on the stone path next to the lawn, seething with a fury he’d rarely felt before, a sadness he knew only too well, and wondering what the hell he was going to do now.

—

Carmen heaves her weight against the chapel door and falls through the doorway. Excited laughter floats toward her as she runs down the aisle to Nora and Sue, skidding to a stop in front of the altar, pausing for a split second to cross herself, then joining them. “Sorry I am late,” she gasps, catching her breath. “Stuck at work, I run all the way.”

“Oh, don’t worry . . .” Nora smiles.

“. . . we haven’t started yet, we’ve been too busy . .

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