Page 23 of Deep Blue Lies
“This is me. I worked there for some years. I was part of the gardening team.” He watches me closely. He seems very confused, almost suspicious. “What is it you want to know?”
But it’s the first success I’ve had, and it thrills me. Finally I’m getting somewhere. “I wondered if you might remember my mother. She’s the blonde one,” I say again, trying to keep my hopes low but feeling them soar. But he doesn’t react again, he just examines the photograph, scowling at it some more.
“Do you…do you remember her?”
It looks as though he’s trying hard to remember something, or work something out. I’m not sure which.
“She came back the year after as well, in 2001, and she was pregnant then, and obviously…” I smile, because maybe it’s only obvious to me. “She would have given birth, in May. To me. That’s why I’m trying to find out about it. I don’t know much about that time. I don’t know if she was still working at the resort.”
I don’t notice exactly when he does it – because I’m gabbling now – but at some point he must have looked up at me, because when I’ve finished he’s still staring at me.
“You saidpregnant?”
“Yes.”
He stares at the photograph again, seemingly lost in thought.
“Has she…passed away, this woman? Your mother?”
“No it’s…” I stop. “It’s complicated, but I can’t ask her about it.”
I feel him examining me. Eventually he nods, as if he understands. Or it’s not his problem. Again I’m not sure which.
“So…do you remember her at all? Like I said, her name is Karen Whitaker, I think she worked in the pool bar at the resort, and the other woman is an American, Imogen?—”
“No.” Just with one word he completely cuts me off. My mouth hangs open a moment, until Iquietly shut it.
“I am very busy this morning. Safety registration. Everything has to be put into this…very irritating website, no?” He takes a deep breath into his broad chest. I wait, not sure how this is relevant to me. “But I cannot help you. I do not know these people.” He stops again, and he studies me a while longer, like there’s something about me he’s trying to understand. But whatever he’s thinking, he doesn’t tell me. He holds the photograph out for me to take, dismissive now.
I hesitate though. Something makes me want to push, yet there’s no way to do so. Instead I take the photo, thank him and find my feet taking me outside, pulling the door shut behind me. As I do so I glance across, and see him scowling at me again. I take a moment, staring at the closed door. I feel somehow humiliated. I’ve never done diving, but this feels a bit like walking out of a pressure chamber.
Sophia is back behind her desk but watching with interest.
“How’d it go?”
I think a second, then shrug. “Not so good. He didn’t know anything.”
Her face falls, as if she’s somehow become personally invested in my quest.
“Well, who are you trying next?”
It’s a good question, and I hold out my arms in a shrug. “I don’t know. Kostas was like, my only good lead.”
She smiles again, like this is her idea of fun. “Why did you think Kostas might know your mother anyway?”
I tell her about the photograph, and because she looks so intrigued, I show it to her too, even though she’d be way too young to know anyone from that time.
“The ADR?” she says at once, seeing the sign that Mum and Imogen are standing under.
“That’s right. She used to work there.”
Sophia replies at once. “OK, well I know who you should speak to next then.”
“Who?”
“There’s a writer guy, he lives up on the mountain. He’s kind of a creep, but he used to work at the ADR, right up until it closed. So he’ll definitely know something.”
FIFTEEN
