Page 68 of Right Place, Right Time
‘Some of them. But most were my grandmother’s. She used to read them to me and my sister when we were younger and we came to visit her and my grandfather.’
‘That’s nice. Happy memories?’
‘Of course. I loved coming here to Cambridge to visit them.’
‘Did you live far away?’
‘Brighton.’
Adam nods, but still presses on with his questions. ‘Big family other than your sister?’
‘No, not really.’ I can feel myself beginning to close up as I always do when my family is mentioned. Like a turtle retreating into its shell for protection when it senses danger, my instinct is to immediately hide away from this difficult subject. But at the same time, I also want to confide in Adam as he confided in me yesterday. ‘There was only my mum, my dad, my sister and me,’ I say, remaining out of my shell for a tad longer than usual. ‘We were very close.’
Adam nods. ‘You were lucky. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters to be close with. It was just Mum and me. I was never that close to my father when he was actually around. But I’m sensing you don’t like discussing your family too much – am I right?’
I nod. ‘Sorry, I know you’ve shared a lot with me, but I just find it really difficult.’
‘That’s OK. I understand. It takes time.’ Adam looks around the room for something else to talk about. ‘So, of those children’s books upstairs, what’s your favourite?’ He’s deftly changed the subject and I’m grateful to him.
‘Hmm… good question,’ I say, relieved. ‘I don’t know… I was always quite keen on Enid Blyton as a child.’
‘Lashings of ginger beer and all that!’ Adam says, smiling. ‘Yes, I remember them fondly too. I used to read them with my mother.’
‘What was your favourite to read with her?’
‘You’ll laugh,’ Adam says, looking a little sheepish.
‘No, I won’t.’
‘It wasThe Hundred and One Dalmatians. I loved it. I remember asking my mother constantly if we could have a Dalmatian dog after that. I used to watch the Disney movie, too, on repeat. That was in the days of VHS, of course, and it was changed to101 Dalmatians. Why they thought the original title wasn’t good enough, I’m not sure … Eve, what’s wrong?
I blink at Adam as my mind spins.
‘My grandmother had a copy of that book too,’ I reply slowly, my brow furrowing as I remember. ‘But she wouldn’t let me look at it for some reason. It always sat up on a high shelf, annoyingly just out of my reach – which was odd because both my grandparents always let me touch stuff. I helped out in their antiques shop, for goodness’ sake, so they knew I could be trusted with delicate things.’
‘Why didn’t your grandmother hide the book away if she didn’t want you to touch it? It seems a bit harsh tohave something on display teasing you like that if she didn’t want you to read it.’
‘Unless shewantedme to know it was there – to be aware of it so I’d remember it.’
‘Like my grandfather did with the painting from his study. He was always pointing that out to me for some reason too. But why would they do that?’
My brain races. ‘There has to be a reason why both these things were made known to us. We know why the painting was now, but why the book …?’ This is so frustrating. I just can’t put my finger on the answer … ‘Oh, my God!’ I stand up, just catching my plate in time before the toast crumbs go everywhere. I shake my head. ‘No … it can’t be …’ I stare blankly in front of me.
‘What can’t be?’ Adam asks. ‘What are you talking about, Eve?’
I turn and look at Adam. ‘I think we might have found our missing book.’
‘What missing book?’
‘The books with the hidden notes inside. The books with titles numbered one to twelve?’ I say to remind him. ‘We’re still missing eleven, aren’t we?’
‘Yes?’ Adam says, not understanding.
‘The Hundred and One Dalmatians, Adam. Or more commonly known these days as101. That’s two ones …’
‘But I don’t have a copy of that book any more and neither did my grandfather. I know what I put in my children’s section in the shop and Dodie Smith was definitely not one of the authors.’
‘You might not have a copy of it,’ I say, smiling triumphantly. ‘But I do …’
