The Shadow of Memory by Connie Berry

Author:Connie Berry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

* * *

“Vivian, we can’t telephone now—it’s after ten o’clock.”

I’d carried my laptop down to the sitting room where Vivian and I sat side by side on the sofa. Thanks to the ever-useful British Telecom directory online—why don’t we have something like that in the States?—we’d found two Mary Diamonds in Norwich. Vivian wanted to call them both immediately.

“She may have gotten married,” I said reasonably. “Her name might not be Diamond.”

“But maybe it is. We’ll never know if we don’t call.”

“Why don’t we look up the two addresses first? Maybe that will tell us something.”

I got busy with Google Street View. The first address turned out to be a small semidetached house in a working-class neighborhood. I couldn’t be sure when the photo had been taken, but children’s toys were visible in the front garden—a bike, a small trampoline, a folded-up stroller. “This doesn’t look like an elder— an older person lives there.”

“Maybe she lives with her son or daughter.”

“But then she likely wouldn’t be called Mary Diamond, would she?”

“Okay, fine. What’s the second address?”

The second address turned out to be a residential care home—Sunny Shores Care Home, located near one of the green zones along the Yar River. That was possible. Mary Diamond had been fifteen in 1963. Which meant she’d be seventy-three now—not old by modern standards. Of course, she could be in poor health. Or then again, she could be married, and this would prove to be another person entirely.

“There’s the phone number.” Vivian pointed at the large numerals under the words Call to Schedule Your Visit.

“I told you—it’s too late.”

“Someone will answer. They’re bound to have people on duty ’round the clock. Besides, that’s a main number. It’s not going to ring in her bedroom, is it?”

“What good will it do if we can’t talk to her?”

“We can find out if she’s able to talk to us. We can ask if she’s in good health—that kind of thing.”

“Oh, all right.” I handed her the phone.

Vivian dialed. Someone must have picked up almost immediately because she said, “Oh, my, I expected to leave a message.” That quavery voice again. “I’m an old, old friend of Mary Diamond, and I was wondering if my daughter could drive me over sometime this weekend to visit.” She gave me a guilty look. “Mary won’t remember me, but I—” She stopped talking. “What did you say? When? I see. Well, yes, I suppose I could. Thank you.”

She hung up and looked at me.

“Well, Mom?” I said.

“Mary died two weeks ago. They want me to collect her things.”

I buried my head in my hands. “Give me the phone. I have to text Tom.”

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