Page 41 of The Diary at the Last House Before the Sea

‘I did, at first. Then it all kind of faded as I built a new life in a foreign country.’

‘What did you and your mum do when you first arrived in Australia?’

‘I think I mentioned that we lived in a couple of communes, which were, basically, people living off the land and sharing produce.’

‘Your mum always was a bit of a hippy.’

‘That’s true. She still is, only now her cause is saving the planet. She’s become something of an eco-warrior.’

Clara smiled. ‘Yeah, I can see your mum doing that.’ She paused. ‘So, were the communes all right?’

River nodded. ‘I guess so. Mostly I remember them as being unbearably hot.’

‘I bet.’

‘But then Mum got a job in Sydney after a couple of years so we moved to the city and we’ve been there ever since.’

‘So were you too busy building your new life to give a monkey’s about the people you’d left behind?’

River suppressed a smile. This was awkward but it reminded him so much of young Clara, who would say exactly what was on her mind. He’d presumed she would develop more of a filter as she got older, but apparently not – and, in spite of the awkwardness, he was glad of it.

‘I did give a monkey’s. I…’ He swallowed, remembering how isolated and lonely he’d felt at first. ‘I did miss Brellasham Manor.’

And you, he wanted to say, but an image of Bartie lying on top of Clara, his hand snaking beneath her T-shirt, sprang into his mind.

So he said instead, ‘But I didn’t realise just how much I’d missed the manor and my father until I came back.’

‘How long do you think you’ll stay?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he said, distracted by the flecks of amber in her eyes. Had they always been that beautiful colour? ‘I was going to book a return flight but I haven’t got round to it yet.’

‘Right.’ Clara nodded and stared to her right, at the moors stretching away into a smudgy purple haze. Then, she suddenly turned towards him. ‘I forgot to say, Bartie has had a brilliant idea about Mum’s cottage. He said the gardens and grounds will remain intact so he’s going to do his best to get the developer to allow us to stay on.’

‘Is he now? That’s great.’

River raised an eyebrow because it had been his idea, actually, but saying so might make him sound petty. And the most important thing was that Clara and her mum could stay put once the manor was sold. That was all that mattered.

So, remembering why he’d been looking for Clara in the first place, he moved on.

‘I wanted to ask if you’re still trying to find out information about Audrey.’

‘Why?’ Clara’s gaze turned on him. ‘Do you want to tell me again not to bother? Only apparently Audrey was never seen around Heaven’s Cove, even though her husband was out and about, lording it up, and Claude reckons a body would usually wash up after someone had drowned.’

‘Claude?’ River blinked. ‘Scary Claude?’

‘He’s not so scary once you get to know him properly. He’s just a one-off.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ said River, remembering how he’d avoided the fisherman with wild hair who glared at teenagers and always had an air of melancholy about him. ‘But I’m not here to tell you not to bother. I’m here to give you this.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded marriage certificate and the photos he’d found on the drawing room floor. ‘I thought they might be useful.’

Clara took them and studied them intently for a moment. ‘Where did you get these?’ she asked, lifting her face towards him.

‘I found them in the house. I thought Audrey’s maiden name might help if you’re searching online for her. And the photos are interesting.’

Clara peered at the picture of Audrey in the library. ‘What book is she staring at so intently? It looks like the dictionary that’s on her lap in her portrait. Don’t you think?’

‘I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. Possibly.’

Clara put the photo down. ‘Thanks for these, but I thought you were against me delving more into Audrey’s past.’

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