Page 33 of The Tapes
It does sound as if it could be a misunderstanding – except for the fact I also saw an older woman with a small silver car who was possibly taking photos of my dad’s house.
‘Why did you think it looked like your gran?’ I ask.
‘Dunno. I was looking through some of those photos you sent me at the weekend, so maybe she was on my mind. We were doing improv in class for how we’d react if a long-lost relative turned up. It was weird.’
After Dad died, Faith asked if I’d send her some pictures of her grandparents, so it does explain that she has a visual reference. That doesn’t mean this woman was my mother, though. More likely wishful thinking on Faith’s part, prompted by Dad’s death and the coincidence of the long-lost relative improv.
I decide not to tell my daughter that I saw a similar vehicle earlier in the day.
Faith continues going through the cupboards, though I’ve already cleared anything that had been opened.
‘Didn’t Granddad have any real food?’ Faith asks.
‘He thought rice was exotic, so not really.’
Faith lives off a diet that mainly seems to be eggs and yoghurt. It feels like the sort of thing someone on social media has recommended.
‘Can Shannon come over tomorrow?’ Faith asks, as she reaches Dad’s largely empty fridge.
‘Of course.’ I wait, and when the explanation doesn’t come: ‘Problems?’
‘The usual. Her mum’s arguing with Shannon’s stepdad ’cos he keeps getting home late from work. She’s convinced he’s having an affair.’
Faith closes the fridge and then props herself on the counter. I think for a moment, largely about Nicola and her jealousy. She scared off her first husband, Shannon’s father, for the same reason. She seemingly finds it impossible to trust any of her partners.
‘Doyouknow if Ethan’s having an affair?’ Faith asks.
‘How would I know?’
‘Maybe Nicola had said something to you?’
‘We don’t really talk about things like that – but you know what she’s like. Probably thinks he is.’
Faith swings her legs and shrugs. ‘I quite like him. Shannon does too but she says her mum is trying to get him to give up being a personal trainer and take a proper job somewhere.’
‘What does she mean by “proper”?’
‘Something that means he’s not visiting people in their homes…’
We catch each other’s eye because we’ve had conversations about this before.
‘Is there anything I can do around here…?’ Faith asks.
I know that type of phrasing, because we’ve all been seventeen once. Offering to do something with a clear indication we’d prefer not to. But there’s something I need to tell her.
‘I talked to the police earlier,’ I say.
‘Why?’
‘About the gun you found yesterday. They said your grandmother’s fingerprints are on it.’
My daughter’s legs stop swinging. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘I’m not sure. They didn’t seem to know what it meant, and I definitely don’t. At some point, Mum must’ve held that gun.’
Faith has a self-confidence I’m not sure I’ve ever had. It probably comes from having a solid group of friends over a course of years. That, or her father. She’s concerned now, as she stares unmovingly for a couple of seconds. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘I’m not sure anybody does.’
