Chapter Sixteen
The book club meander behind me chatting merrily away while I sneak looks in every direction to make sure no one is following us, simple whodunnit guidelines.
You can never be too careful. The sun almost blisters the pavement it’s so hot, and I’m forced to fan my face with a hand which does very little too cool me down.
Our quick getaway is hampered what with old Albert’s bad knees and Zephyr stopping to delight every time we pass a shop selling quirky items, which if you know Porto, is very often.
Now she’s disappeared into a shop selling tinned sardines in retro packaging.
It’s sweet and all but why are we dilly-dallying like this when Lucinda could be in the throes of butchering a bad man?
Tiago senses my worry and gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘She shouldn’t be too long, the line is moving fast.’
‘I’ll hurry her along,’ Thomas says. ‘I’ve got to get home soon myself.’
While he goes to chivvy our Gen Z friend, Tiago leans next to me on the colourful wall and shades his face from the sun. ‘I didn’t expect they’d be on board with this, did you?’
I take a moment to consider the question. ‘The notebook of mysteries is hard to refute. And Lucinda did share with us her goal was to get out of the house more, so not returning to book club is odd.’
Could that be it? Lucinda simply decided that socialising is not for her and I’ve got my wires completely crossed?
But then how do we explain the kill list?
No, I’m just suffering a pang of imposter syndrome, after all, Detective Amber Quill is a tough act to emulate, it’s only natural I’ll face moments of self-doubt.
‘Right.’
‘Look at her face.’ I point to Zephyr, who is awe inspired by the interior of the shop. It’s a sight to behold, with bright bold carnival-like decor, including a striped ceiling resembling the big top in a circus and a vintage train display in the middle of the shop floor.
‘Oh, to be that free of concern.’ I turn to Tiago.
‘It’s nice to be back in Porto. It’s almost feeling like home, like I belong.
’ I’m not sure why I blurt such a thing – blame the blazing sunshine – the fact that I’ve now got friends, friends who haven’t once belittled me.
‘Do you think you’ll stay here long term? ’ I ask.
Tiago twists to face me. ‘It has been nice being back with my family, making friends like this. You know, you said something that really made me think …’ He tucks a stray hair back, exposing the curve of his jaw.
‘I did?’
‘Yeah, I did a deep dive about five-second videos hijacking dopamine and how they’re addictive.
’ He laughs as he shakes his head. ‘I made an app that’s only exacerbated that need for more screen time.
And yeah, sure, gamers loved it. I loved it.
But is it the right way forward? The more I reflect, the more I see how my own world shrank to a small screen, and I realise that it’s not what I want to do.
I don’t want to be the reason people don’t step outside and get fresh air, don’t talk to a human face to face.
Isn’t it strange that when I was building GameCore, I didn’t see what it was doing to my own life.
I had such tunnel vision, to make it a success, to be a great businessman like my dad – but for what? ’
‘But you did make it a success, right? You achieved the objective.’
‘At what cost though?’
‘I’m sorry if I made you feel guilty about it. I don’t have much of a filter.’ I’m mortified that I’ve made Tiago question his passion, stolen the high from what was obviously a success.
He casually waves the apology away. ‘No, no, that’s just it.
You’re the first person who ever raised that side of it with me.
Everyone else was more concerned about the timings, the profitability, me not failing after so many years invested in this crazy idea.
And never once did I consider the negatives, that I’d be designing something that shut people inside, that severed more ties with real people, that cut them off, cut them out, you know?
My goal was to make an app where people could connect with other gamers but should I have focused more on connecting them outside their homes, away from their screens. ’ His eyes are full of angst.
‘It’s not too late, Tiago. And while I’m a fierce defender of an analogue world, maybe that connection, those friends they make on a screen, are a lifeline for some. That might be the only connection they can cope with, have you ever thought of it that way?’
The angst falls away. ‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Books have been like that for me. After—’ I want to tell him about my dad, but this isn’t about me, this is about Tiago’s struggle to make sense of things.
‘—after I went through an upheaval, books became my lifeline, my refuge from the real world and all its chaos. Your app likely provides that for people too.’
He exhales a long breath, thinks it over. ‘Thanks, Viviane. I needed to hear that. You’ve inspired me. I’ve got some ideas about what comes next, so I’m keen to get working on those.’
My heart squeezes. ‘So will you go back to London?’ There’s a tech hub in East London known as Silicon Roundabout, where innovators like Tiago work.
He averts his gaze, rubs the back of his neck. ‘It would be easier to assemble a team there when the time comes.’
I swallow a sudden lump in my throat. ‘Here comes Zephyr and Thomas.’
Zephyr returns with a pretty tote bag. ‘How stunning are these? Like mini artwork.’ She brandishes a vintage tin featuring an Alice in Wonderland design. ‘Some of the tins have trivia questions and fun historical facts. My family back home will love these.’
‘Can we get out of this infernal sunshine?’ old Albert grumbles.
We continue to the Chapel of Souls, arguably the most beautiful church in all of Porto.
The facade is covered in striking blue and white porcelain tiles known as azulejos, depicting scenes from the life of Saint Catherine.
It’s a stunning piece of architecture, no matter how many times I lay eyes on it, it still takes my breath away.
It’s a feast for the soul but my heart is strangely heavy.
If Tiago leaves, which seems inevitable, this shiny new life will surely pale.
The pendulum of friendship is a gnarly ride.
‘Wow,’ Zephyr says. ‘I love the azulejos artwork all over Porto, but this display might be the best.’
‘This and the azulejos inside S?o Bento Train Station,’ Tiago says, with pride in his voice. ‘Stunning.’ His gaze lands on me, so I’m quick to agree.
We head inside and take a pew at the very back, as we let out a quiet chorus of sighs at the change in temperature.
‘I haven’t stepped in a chapel for almost a year,’ Thomas says softly, almost reverential. ‘Maybe I need to fix that.’ I debate with whether to ask why but his face closes, becomes tight, so I let it go.
‘That was a bit of a trek,’ old Albert says, puffing. ‘And why convene in a chapel of all places?’ There are a few people milling about, lighting candles and taking in the solemn atmosphere, but they’re all up front so our whispers won’t interfere with their visit.
‘Well, meeting in a chapel is unexpected and photography is forbidden, so I figured if anyone was following us, this is a safe bet.’
‘Followed?’ Fear dashes across Zephyr’s face.
‘In the interest of safety, that’s all.’ I press on, we have a lot to get through. ‘So, as I see it, we each have a very particular set of skills and between us we can solve this case, if we harness our special strengths.’
‘Yes!’ old Albert says. ‘This is just like being in a movie. What are our skills though? Our strengths? I know my weakness and that’s walking. From now on I’ll have to remain more … static.’ He wrinkles his nose as he pulls a knee up to stretch, his joints crackling like a spitting fire.
‘Yes, we should keep that in mind. I’m sorry, I thought a walk would help in case we were tailed, but sadly, we weren’t.’ It’s disappointing, even The Man in the Blue Beret wasn’t shadowing us, but there’s not much I can do about it.
‘Tailed?’ Thomas laughs quietly, shaking his head with what looks suspiciously like disbelief. There’s always a sceptic in every whodunnit, so I’m thrilled we’ve got our very own in sad-eyed Thomas. Maybe a little whodunnit distraction might be good for whatever ails him.
Still, I keep a poker face, so he doesn’t know my ploy is to bring him into the fold more.
As a person who is well acquainted with being on the outside looking in, I can spot loneliness a mile away.
It’s written all over every line of his face, in the stooping of his shoulders.
‘Yes, tailed. It’s always best to take precautions, which brings me back to the matter at hand.
I have keen observational skills and a brilliantly strategic mind.
Tiago is my ever-faithful sidekick and can be relied on for boosting morale. ’
‘Oh, shucks,’ Tiago says with a hand on his heart.
‘Also, tech is Tiago’s forte, so he’ll be our go-to for online investigations, digging into the dark depths of the notorious world wide web when, and if, needed.
Thomas is our reality check, sensible and practical, offering a well-timed sigh and maybe a groan or two to let us know we’re in danger of going off-piste. ’
Thomas duly offers a well-timed sigh to which Tiago sends me a look of amazement at my reading of our fellow book club member turned sceptic.
‘What about me?’ Zephyr’s forehead crinkles with worry. ‘I can’t think of any skill I have that might help.’
I spin to face my Gen Z friend. It strikes me that I’m not the only one in our group who lacks confidence or at least faces some level of self-doubt. How to make her feel understood?