Chapter 40
Walking into Moira’s house, Skye didn’t remove her shoes or coat, just muttered about getting her bag and leaving.
Cal and Emma were still sitting at the kitchen table, bottles of beer in front of them.
“How did it go?” Emma asked. “Have you destroyed all the evidence?”
“Think we got them all,” Jamie said.
“I thought we were playing board games,” Cal said when Skye plucked her bag from the back of his chair.
“I’m going home. Can you drive me?”
“I wasn’t planning on driving again today.” He lifted his beer. “I’ll walk you home later.”
“I don’t need you to walk me. I’m just going to go.”
“What’s up?” Emma asked, following her with her eyes.
“Nothing.” She hefted her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’m just an idiot.”
Both Cal and Emma switched their attention to Jamie. If he were a nervous person, their death stares might have been intimidating. As it was, he was more concerned about Skye.
“Are you leaving because of what you said before?” he asked.
She dropped her chin to her chest. “This is why I like to check with Cal before I say stuff.”
“I don’t even care about what you said.”
Emma moved around the table. Jamie expected her to put an arm around Skye, but she just stood solidly beside her.
“What happened?” she asked, the question directed at Jamie, as though he’d done something wrong.
“Nothing. She made a comment about some guy’s scar, that’s all.”
“A really horrible comment,” Skye said. “I don’t know why I said it. I must have sounded like a total bitch.”
Confusion wrinkled Emma’s brow until Jamie helped her out and pointed at his face. She nodded her understanding.
“I’m sorry,” Skye said again. “I’m really embarrassed.”
“I didn’t even think anything of it,” Jamie said, but his words didn’t seem to reassure her.
Emma looked thoughtful. “It’s kind of funny that you feel bad about that, when all I can think is that I could’ve been calling him Scarface this whole time.” Her eyebrows twitched. “Missed opportunity.”
Cal covered a laugh with a cough, but Emma held Jamie’s gaze. He almost laughed too – she might not be good at hugs and physical reassurance, but she clearly had her own particular way of looking out for those close to her.
He’d play along.
“And I don’t think you need to worry about looking like a bitch,” he said to Skye. “Not given the company you keep.”
Another cough from Cal.
Emma held his gaze, the fierceness of her features making it unclear whether she got the joke. He winked in case and was rewarded with a gentle eye roll and the slightest twitch of her lips.
“Sit down,” Emma said, giving Skye a nudge. “Who wants a drink?”
“I’ll have a cuppa,” she said. “Anything from the list that I haven’t tried yet.”
“By the way, who moved my list?” Jamie asked, a prickle of annoyance lacing his words. “I was enjoying rating the teas.”
“That was Skye,” Cal said flatly.
Jamie’s eyebrows shot up. He’d have bet money on it being Cal, and felt a jolt of disappointment at Skye. “What did you do with it?”
“Put it in the bin,” she said slowly. There was no remorse in her features and she even looked slightly puzzled as to why it was an issue.
“Why would you put it in the bin?”
She pointed at the fridge. “I added all your scores to our list.”
He drifted to the fridge, eyes on the list which now included his name.
“I thought you’d have seen it,” Skye said.
Emma scoffed. “I reckon you severely overestimated his observational skills. Remember he failed to find a cat even when it was sitting in his lap!”
“I’m never going to live that down, am I?
” He was okay with the joke though – it distracted him from the rush of emotions he’d felt at having his name added to the paper on the fridge.
After flashing Skye a grateful smile, he looked at Emma.
“I think I should get to choose the first board game since I’ve had to put up with so much teasing. Where are they?”
“Living room,” Emma told him as she filled the kettle. “Bottom cupboard near the window.”
“Not Scrabble!” Cal shouted as he left the room.
The quiet of the living room was noticeable after the rowdy kitchen. Jamie opened the cupboard and was confronted with a variety of board games and card games. Some familiar to him and some not.
He picked up Uno, but knocked the lid off a shoebox at the same time.
A photo of Cal and Emma when they were younger caught his eye and he picked up a handful of photographs.
One of Skye and Cal pulling faces either side of Emma made him smile.
Moira was in several of the pictures as he flicked through.
Cal and Emma featured heavily, along with a lot of unfamiliar faces, presumably the teenagers Moira had taken in.
He was about to put them back when a photograph made him pause.
In this one Moira was a lot younger and wearing her police uniform. That wasn’t what made his heart beat faster, though. It was the little boy sitting on her lap.
“Can’t you decide?” Emma asked, arriving beside him and breaking his trance. “Just take Scrabble. It’ll be fun to beat Cal again.”
“I was looking at these photos,” Jamie said, holding up the stack in his hand.
“That’s embarrassing,” she said, plucking the one of her.
“This is Moira’s stash of favourite photos.
Every six months she swaps out all the framed photos in here.
She says if you always have the same pictures up, you stop seeing them.
So she rotates them. Sometimes new ones get added, but not very often. ”
“It’s a good idea,” Jamie said, then held out the one which had stopped him in his tracks. “Who’s this?”
“That’s Moira,” she said with a frown. “She used to be a police officer.”
“Yeah, I know. I meant who’s the kid?”
“Her friend’s kid, I think. There are a lot of people here who I have no idea who they are.” She flicked through a few more photographs, then put them aside and grabbed Scrabble. “Come on.”
“I’ll join you in a bit,” he said. “I need to make a quick phone call.”
“Okay. Whatever. You probably don’t want to miss me beating Cal at Scrabble, though.”
“I won’t be long,” he said, forcing a smile as he returned the photos to the cupboard. Emma had already gone, so he didn’t even have to disguise the fact that he hadn’t put all of them back.
He kept the photo in his hand when he went upstairs and sank onto the edge of the bed.
His gaze was fixed on the window and the darkness outside, then he forced himself to look down at the picture in his hand. His chest felt as though it were being crushed and he couldn’t make sense of what he was looking at.
The vibration of his phone in his pocket made him move to pull it out. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to speak to Violet or not.
After a moment’s hesitation he declined the call. He couldn’t speak to her now. There was no way he could have a rational conversation. Not while he was trying to figure out why Moira had a photo of him when he was a kid.
Again, his eyes went to the picture. His brain flicked between telling him he was mistaken and then insisting it was definitely him.
It wasn’t only that he recognised himself – the clothes he was wearing were familiar too.
He didn’t have his scar in the photo, but that would make sense if they were still living in Scotland.
What didn’t make sense was the fact that he was now living in the house of a woman who’d been friends with his mum. Which wouldn’t be such a big deal if Moira had mentioned it. Or if his mum had ever mentioned Moira.
It couldn’t be a coincidence, though. Moira must have known when she hired him to house-sit.
His brain wouldn’t focus enough to calculate the time in New Zealand, but he was fairly sure he’d be able to get hold of her if he called now. With his phone in his hand, he tried to figure out what he’d say. He had so many questions.
“Jamie!” Cal bellowed up the stairs. “Get down here. The women are picking on me and I’m outnumbered!”
A small smile tugged at Jamie’s mouth, and he set the photo aside. For the first time in a long time he knew exactly what he wanted. And that was to go downstairs and laugh with Cal and Skye and Emma.
He could figure the rest out later.