The Trawlerman, стр. 38
‘Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you?’
‘Sort of. I want to know more about this. I need something rational to hold on to right now. Are there books you can recommend?’
He took a while to answer. ‘Can I give you a bit of advice?’ he said. ‘I’m a scientist, Alex. Like you, I tend to think if I understand the mechanisms behind things, then I am in control. Trauma isn’t like that. There’s a danger you’re using science to push away the unpleasantness of it rather than dealing with the problem itself. Your brain has rewired itself in a way that is harming you. It’s one thing to know that, it’s another to deal with it. I’m a big believer in counsellors. You should talk to him about this.’
‘That’s what my daughter says.’
He raised his glass. ‘Here’s to her. I would like to meet her properly one day. How was her starfish dissection?’
‘Utterly gross.’
‘Good. What about her father? Where is he?’
Always beware men who ask your marital status, she thought. ‘Amicably divorced. He lives in Cornwall.’
‘Why doesn’t Zoë live with him?’
‘I used to think that she stayed with me because she liked me more, or that she didn’t like his wife, which wouldn’t have surprised me at all. His wife runs a business making handmade herbal beauty products. But now I realise that she stays with me because she thinks she has to look after me.’
He whistled. ‘Self-pity?’
‘I’m not sure I am capable of it. Maybe she just prefers it here. He’s a university lecturer at Falmouth.’
‘Poor bastard.’
‘Because he has a wife who makes herbal beauty products?’
‘Because he’s a university lecturer. Universities are doomed. I’m lucky to be out with a pension.’
‘You’re young. I thought university people stayed in the job until they died. How come you got out?’
He smiled a little sadly again. ‘It was not a choice I made. They asked me to retire, if I’m honest.’
‘Oh.’
He put down the wine and interlocked his fingers. ‘I had a problem with drugs. I don’t try and keep it a secret. It became an issue. We worked out a severance package and though I thought I’d be miserable, the change made me happier than you can imagine. I’m clean now, by the way. Alcohol is still a vice, obviously.’
‘That’s why you’re a fan of counsellors?’ She heard crickets in the marram grass.
‘Everything I knew about the physiology of addiction was just an excuse not to quit. But yes, I had a good counsellor. In fact, one of the things he encouraged me to do was to take some exercise. I took up golf. You should try it.’
‘God, no. So you shifted one addiction for another?’
‘Exactly so. And Ayman took me under his wing here. He was kind to me when I needed it the most. He helped teach me. And he was genuinely delighted when I started to beat him at the game. And I am obsessed, now, unfortunately, though very healthy.’
Other people’s lives were always so various and strange, she thought to herself. ‘I have a question. It’s about Ayman. Do you mind if I ask? Did you ever hear about Ayman arguing with anyone?’
‘No . . . Your colleague asked me that. They say he argued with the homeless man who killed him.’
‘But you never heard about it. He never talked about it?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’ Another smile. ‘I’m glad you came, actually. I was hoping to invite you round. I’m quite a good cook,’ he said.
‘I bet you say that to all of the lady golfers.’
‘Most of them. Look, I know I’m sounding like a bit of an arse, but cut me a little slack.’
‘You’re desperate?’
He nodded. ‘I suppose I am, really. How would tomorrow be?’
She stood. ‘No. I’m sorry. I actually have to be somewhere tomorrow evening.’ Tomorrow evening it would be two weeks exactly since the deaths of Ayman and Mary Younis.
‘But another day then. Saturday?’
‘I don’t think so, Terry. I’m not really in the right place for this.’
‘What about the weekend after?’ he asked.
Irritated at his persistence, she replied, ‘I’ll promise to think about it. OK?’ in a tone that was supposed to imply ‘no’.
On the way home she passed Bill’s house and noticed there were no lights on again, and she realised, with a start, that she had not talked to Bill at all this week. In fact, she thought, she had not even seen him. They were friends; they might not talk to each other every day, but she was normally conscious of his presence, and yet she had been so wrapped up with disliking her new job that she hadn’t reached out to him once.
She stopped the car, got out and banged on the door. There was no answer.
She walked around the back in case he was there, but the bench was empty, so she peered in through the rear window into the main room. The place was deserted.
She dug out her phone and called Zoë in Folkestone. The first time she didn’t answer. The second time she picked up. Alex could hear music in the background.
‘Did Bill say he was going away anywhere?’
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘Think. Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure, Mum.’
‘Have you seen anything of him?’
‘No. Not for a few days in fact.’
‘Me neither.’ She was suddenly worried. ‘Do you think something might have happened to him?’
In the background she heard Stella and Tina’s chattering. Some laughter. ‘Maybe he’s trying to get away from that bird bath,’ joked Zoë.
‘He liked it.’
‘So you say.’
‘I’m serious. Do you think something happened to him? I’m worried, Zoë.’
Zoë sounded suddenly concerned too. ‘Are you all right, Mum? Do you want me to come home?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, making an effort to sound less anxious.
‘I mean, I can. If you want. I don’t mind.’
‘It’s OK.