Page 94 of Dead to Me

Which meant it could only be one of three people, didn’t it?The three older men who Kit would go ballistic about her seeing.

‘You weren’t aware it was someone known to you?’Reid asked him, as though he hadn’t just put all this together.‘Someone much older than Esther?’

Kit’s expression went slack once again, for a moment, and it was almost satisfying.Kit was clearly– despite initial impressions– in the loop about a lot of things, but this was a total shock to him.

‘I… what?’Kit gave a short laugh.‘She said it was nobody I knew.Seriously.Why would she lie about it?’

‘For good reasons, I think,’ Reid said, quietly, to himself.He got to his feet.‘Thank you for all the help, Mr Frankland.I’d appreciate it if you’d stay here and not contact anyone just for now.’

Once Dom Davies had followed him through the door Reid said, ‘We need to look at all the images on Ryan Jaffett’s phone asap.And if that’s not going to be possible in the next half-hour, I need Anna’s father back here.’

37.Seaton

Monday, 23 June– two hours before the ball

Seaton raised the knocker with a feeling of almost out-of-body anxiety.This was the kind of situation he dreaded beyond almost any other: a situation where he put himself at risk of humiliation, rejection and an emotional scene.

He’d almost convinced himself that he could leave it, letting Anna go to the ball without making any effort to fix this.He had, after all, only been reacting out of shock when he’d said those things.

But Seaton was familiar with the sense of shame that had descended on him after his daughter had left.It was one rooted in having let his family down over and over.

It was the shame of not being capable of proper familial emotions.Of being cold or judgemental when he should have been warm or loving.And onto this shame piled the increasing wretchedness of hours passing without being able to tell her the right words, even in a message.

He’d tried to salve his guilt by sending her money, but he knew it wasn’t enough.That it would probably revolt her.He’d found himself pacing around his big, immaculately cared-for garden, wishing he knew what to do, so that at least he’d feel he was caring for something.Tending to something.

He’d found himself halting in front of the big, pink peonies close to the tennis court he rarely used.

Albert Crousse,he thought with a sudden smile.

They were the only flowers he knew the name of, and thatwas down to Anna.She’d buried her face in one of the wide-open blooms what must have been three years before and told him peonies were her favourite flowers on earth.

‘What kind are they?’she’d asked.‘I want to get some for my balcony.’

Seaton, of course, hadn’t known and had gone to fetch ever patient Martin, who actually cared for these living things.And Martin had told her.

‘Oh my god, Albert Crousse?They sound like a curmudgeonly next-door neighbour,’ Anna had said, delighted.‘How can they look so pretty?I love it.’

They were almost in bloom once again now, those big pink peonies.They always flowered late in their shaded position.All those pale pink Alberts just waiting to burst into flower, but Anna not here to see them.And maybe never here to see them again, because he’d been inexcusably vile to her.

You need to fix this,he’d thought, and hurried to the shed to find a pair of secateurs.You can’t keep avoiding all the hard parts of being a father.

He’d cut five of the blooms and wrapped them in paper towel.And then, as an afterthought, he’d gone to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Roederer out of the fridge.They’d probably need a drink if they were going to talk about the tough stuff.

He’d packed them both into a bag (with the champagne in an ice pack) and set off for Anna’s house before he had time to give in to his anxiety.Though it had plenty of time to hit him as he waited for her to answer the door.

He was taken aback by the sight of her.She was already dressed for the ball, her hair curled and piled up until it looked like there was twice as much of it, and the black-and-silver dress he’d bought for her fitting her brilliantly.Though, in many ways, it was the make-up that was the most striking.Itchanged the shape of her face, somehow, making her seem untouchably glamorous.No longer quite his daughter.

The two of them looked at each other for a beat, and then she gave a small nod and a smile.

‘Would I… be able to come in?’he asked.

He held the flowers out, and she gave a half-smile as she took them.

‘Sure,’ she said, and let him through into the kitchen.The house smelled overwhelmingly of nail polish, but Seaton was too relieved that she’d let him in to say anything.‘These are amazing… thank you,’ his daughter added, and he felt a strange note of pleasure in having given her something that she actually liked.

‘Look,’ he said, hovering awkwardly while she retreated to the kitchen to fill a vase with water.‘I understand why you’ve not wanted to talk to me.I just wanted to make sure you knew how… how sorry I am about what I said.’He cleared his throat.‘I should probably explain why I did.It was more about Philip than anything else.’He couldn’t help the pleading tone that crept into his voice.‘He’s always been so incredibly supportive of me, in every way.At difficult times in my life.And we’re… close.We’ve always been close.’He gave a frustrated sigh.‘I felt like I’d let him down.And I was so busy thinking about that that I then letyoudown, and much more badly.’

Anna fiddled with the flowers.He found himself wishing, intensely, that he knew her better.That he could read the nuances of her expressions.He didn’t know whether she was angry with him, or sad for him, or just taking this in.

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