Page 8 of The Unseen
“Of course. And I’m glad she’s finally come to a decision. Odd timing, though.”
“Not really. She’s already signed with an estate agent and the property has been listed. There probably won’t be much activity before the New Year, but hopefully after the holidays, things will pick up.”
“There’ll be much to do. You’ll need to decide what to do with the contents of the house. Your mum will only be able to take a few pieces with her once she moves into the retirement community. Is there anything you might want to hold on to?” Quinn asked.
“I think Mum’s already decided what she wants to take with her. She’d like to move as soon as possible.”
“I can’t say I blame her. After learning about Catherine de Rosel, I can’t say I look forward to returning to that house either. What a sad story.” Quinn sighed. “I’m glad you’ve arranged to have her buried properly after all this time. It’s the least we could do for her.”
“She’ll be interred as soon as Rhys releases the remains and the artefacts.”
Catherine de Rosel would be buried at the parish church, next to her husband, Hugh de Rosel, and her lover, Guy de Rosel, who had fallen at the Battle of Bosworth Field. She’d be interred with her amber rosary and Guy’s sword, his most prized possession, which he had laid to rest with Kate and what he’d assumed were the remains of his unborn child in an unmarked grave in the family chapel.
“They’re almost done filming the episode. We’ll be able to take Kate with us when we drive up to Berwick for Christmas,” Quinn said as she reached for an egg and watercress sandwich.
“Who’s Kate?” Emma piped in as she reached for another sandwich.
“She was someone who died a long time ago,” Gabe replied, not wishing to get into the details of Kate’s murder.
“I’m glad we’ll be having Christmas in Berwick. I miss Buster. And Grandma Phoebe. When are we going to see Grandma Sylvia? And Jude?” Emma asked.
Quinn and Gabe exchanged glances over Emma’s head. How could they explain to a five-year-old that her uncle Jude was now in a rehab facility, battling his heroin addiction, while Quinn and Sylvia hadn’t seen each other since the day of Emma’s birthday party in August when Jude had dropped a heroin fold that Emma picked up, mistaking it for a sticker?
“We’ll see Grandma Sylvia soon,” Gabe replied vaguely.
“Can I bring Emme when we go to Berwick?”
“If you like,” Quinn replied. She secretly felt sad for Mr. Rabbit, who’d been ruthlessly replaced in Emma’s affections. “What about Mr. Rabbit?”
“He can stay at home. Stuffed rabbits are for babies. Alex can have him,” Emma replied.
“I’m sure he’ll love him as much as you did,” Gabe said.
“Yeah. Whatever.”
FOUR
Quinn pushed Alex’s pram down the corridor of the mortuary, disregarding people’s curious glances. Alex was asleep after their walk, and she saw no harm in bringing him along to her meeting with Dr. Colin Scott. The door to his office stood wide open, making it easier for her to maneuver the pram inside.
“It is Bring Your Child to Work Day?” Colin joked. He sat behind his desk, a surgical mask hanging around his neck and his sandy hair twisted into an artful man-bun.
“I don’t have a child minder,” Quinn explained. She’d have to find someone eventually if she planned to keep working, but she wasn’t ready to leave Alex just yet. He was only ten weeks old, not nearly old enough to entrust to a stranger, and her hours were flexible enough that she could work around Gabe’s schedule, making sure that one of them was always there to look after the baby.
“Well, if he doesn’t mind, I don’t mind,” Colin replied. “Come through.”
Quinn followed Colin into the lab where the skeleton was laid out on a slab. Now that it was lying flat, Quinn was sure it had been a man, and a powerfully built one at that. Colin’s assistant, Dr. Sarita Dhawan, stood bent over the skelly as she worked on extracting a tooth.
“Good morning, Dr. Allenby,” Sarita called out as she dropped the tooth into a plastic container. “Congratulations. May I take a peek?” she asked, smiling at Alex.
“Of course.”
Sarita pulled off her latex gloves and came to peer into the pram. Alex was still sleeping peacefully. His face looked as round as a full moon and his mouth was slightly ajar. His lashes brushed his rosy cheeks and several dark strands of hair had escaped from his knitted hat.
“Oh, he’s lovely. He looks just like your husband.”
“Don’t I know it? Not a trace of me in there,” Quinn said, shaking her head in mock dismay.
“You’ll just have to have another one,” Colin quipped as he smiled at the sleeping child.
