‘Shit.’ He made as if to rise, then slumped back into his seat. ‘Shit.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I ventured.
His jaw muscles clenched as he bit down hard. His fist pressing against his mouth. ‘You know anything about this guy?’
‘No,’ I answered.
‘I asked her,’ he said, ‘last night, whether anything had happened, what she’d done with the day. She’d been bored, she said, she’d rung her mum to arrange to go over for the weekend. She was thinking of taking up another class, something to do. Shit.’
I passed him the photos of the man. Jimmy looked at the top one, his hand trembling.
‘Do you know him?’
He shook his head. Breathed in sharply and sat upright. ‘OK, can I take this?’
‘They’re yours.’
‘And the money?’
I passed him the bill, he read it and drew out some notes from his pocket. ‘There’s sixty there, I can pay the rest next week.’
‘Fine. I’ll give you a receipt.’
He brushed the offer aside. He stood up, his whole body tense. I wanted to make it better but this wasn’t a child with a grazed knee. Jimmy and Tina were adults and only they could sort this out, for better or worse. I passed him the photo he’d given me of Tina. I felt a flicker of fear for her. ‘If you and Tina want any help…’ I held out a leaflet from Relate. I keep a pile to give out. If I have to go around uncovering betrayal and adultery then at least I can hand out a lifeline to those couples who might not want instant divorce.
He snorted and stuck his hands firmly in his pockets.
‘I’ll see you out.’
He bounded up the stairs to the door.
‘Hey,’ I said, as he made to leave. He turned to me, his face taut, his eyes bright with anger.
What could I say? Don’t do anything daft? ‘I’m sorry.’
He wheeled away to the van at the gate, hands fumbling in his pocket for his cigarettes.
It was Tuesday of the following week. Temperatures had plummeted and black ice glassed the roads and pavements. I was in the office with the little convector heater blasting out hot air. The phone rang. I picked it up, automatically pulling pen and paper towards me. Agnes introduced herself.
‘I wanted to speak to you about Lily,’ she said. ‘They’ve moved her. When I went to visit yesterday Mrs Valley-Brown saw me. They transferred her during the night.’
‘To Kingsfield?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, I am sorry.’ I waited for her to carry on. I sympathised with Agnes but what was she ringing me for? Was I the only person she could tell? I had a sudden chill as I imagined Agnes becoming dependent on me, investing me with the role of social worker as she herself became less independent, ringing me in the night, turning up on the doorstep…’