Page 130 of Inbetweeners
Phoenix reached across and took his hand. Emmett felt a swell of emotion that he had to fight to push back.
“Maybe that will be us.” Emmett gave a short laugh. “Our last day before… whatever, but we’re not going to get mountains and snow and warm sea. We might manage a beach on a cloudy day. I’d go for that.”
“I used to love the beach. Orion and I used to cycle to Beltinge. That’s a couple of miles from Herne Bay. There’s this spit of rough land that stretches out into the sea and it can only be accessed at low tide. We collected sharks’ teeth and all sort of other stuff. Dinosaur poop, fish spines, fossilised wood. Most of the teeth were from sand sharks. We had quite a collection until our father threw it away.”
“Did your brother never move from where you were brought up?”
“He lived in Surrey when he was in care, but he went back to Herne Bay when he was older.”
“So you kept an eye on him.”
Phoenix glanced at him. “I might have done. Every now and again.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s a nurse.”
“Good for him.”
“Yeah.”
“Do we pass Malcolm Patrick’s home on the way to the fancy-dress shop?”
“We could.”
“Let’s go there first. If there is a link between Malcolm and Greyson, it might be useful to know it. Do you need me to put it in the satnav?”
“No, I can find it. You do realise that his wife will recognise us.”
“I know.”
The door was opened by an older woman. “Yes?”
“I wondered if we could speak to Tricia? We knew Malcolm.”
“Briefly,” Phoenix added.
“What are your names?”
“Emmett and Phoenix.”
“I’ll ask her.” She closed the door.
When it opened, Tricia was standing there. Her face was pale, but she was composed. Though when she looked at them, she gulped and lost the little colour she had. “You exist then. I thought I’d imagined you.”
“We exist…temporarily,” Phoenix said.
“What do you want?”
Emmett cleared his throat. “Malcolm isn’t the only one who was stabbed. We’re trying to catch those responsible.”
“But you’re not the police.”
“No,” Phoenix said. “Not regular police anyway. Do you know anyone called Simon Greyson or Sophie Russell?”
She frowned. “Simon Greyson used to work for Malcolm until Malcolm suspected him of stealing artefacts from the British Library. Malcolm couldn’t prove it, but he got rid of Greyson as soon as he could. You think he had something to do with Malcolm’s death?”
“Yes,” Emmett said. “What were the artefacts he took, do you know?”
