Page 103 of The Impossible Fortune
Ibrahim brings in a tray with three mugs on it. Kendrick and Tia are lying on the floor, colouring in planets in Kendrick’s book.
‘I said it would be too babyish,’ says Kendrick, looking up. ‘But Tia said she didn’t mind.’
‘They had colouring-in books in prison,’ says Tia. ‘They were very popular.’
‘I have made myself three hot chocolates,’ says Ibrahim. ‘But three is too many for one man. I suppose I could share them if one of you is thirsty?’
Kendrick and Tia both leap to their feet. Tia looks so much younger than she did when she arrived. Seeing her with Kendrick reminds Ibrahim that she is just a child. Whatever Connie wants to turn her into, Ibrahim is determined he won’t allow it. What a life this girl might have.
Ibrahim sits down on the sofa, and Kendrick sits next to him. Tia sits in his armchair, tucks her legs underneath her and reaches for a mug.
‘Elizabeth was very clever to work out Holly’s code,’ says Kendrick.
‘I like to think I helped,’ says Ibrahim.
‘And Grandad,’ says Kendrick. ‘You all helped. The Thursday Murder Club.’
‘There was a murder club in prison too,’ says Tia. ‘They murdered people. What does your murder club do?’
‘We investigate things,’ says Ibrahim. ‘And with some success.’
‘Like Holly’s murder?’ Tia asks.
‘Mmm hmm,’ says Ibrahim. He doesn’t really want to be talking to Tia about murders; it seems to rub against his plan of turning her away from that sort of life. But at the same time he does enjoy talking about them, and the cat is well and truly out of the bag now. She knows about the explosion, the money, the codes.
‘So Holly had a code,’ says Tia. ‘And this guy Nick Silver has the other six digits.’
‘There you have it,’ says Ibrahim. ‘On the nose.’
‘So Nick Silver killed her,’ says Tia. ‘Case closed. This hot chocolate is amazing.’
‘Either that, or someone killed them both,’ says Ibrahim. ‘No one has heard from Nick Silver since the wedding, except for some texts that clearly weren’t from him.’
‘She dies; he disappears,’ says Tia. ‘I bet he killed her.’
‘Yeah, I bet too,’ says Kendrick.
‘Do you agree with everything Tia says now, Kendrick?’ Ibrahim teases.
‘Yes,’ says Kendrick, unteasable.
Ibrahim feels sleepy and happy. This feels like a family.
‘How do you know the texts weren’t from him?’ Tia asks.
‘I’ll show you,’ says Ibrahim. ‘And you’ll see.’
He fetches one of his printouts of the text exchange and hands it to Tia. She starts to read.
‘The language doesn’t sound like him,’ says Ibrahim.‘And he doesn’t know simple information about his best friend.’
As Tia is reading, Kendrick gets up from the sofa and slides onto the armchair beside her. It fits them both. Two children. One running from something Ibrahim has yet to discover, the other being protected from something Ibrahim knows only too well. Kendrick puts his head on Tia’s shoulder as they read. How much longer does he have as a child, this clever boy? How much longer before life makes him an adult? Until his shoes have laces and his heart has scars? Until his shame deepens alongside his voice and he no longer wants to lie on the floor and colour in the planets?
‘No one talks like this,’ says Tia, rereading the messages, and Kendrick nods.
‘I told you so,’ says Ibrahim. ‘Elizabeth and I have combed them this way and that. We can’t say who sent them, but we can certainly say that it wasn’t Nick Silver.’
Tia nods and goes back to reading. Right at this moment Ibrahim wants to save these two from the world. To save them from Kendrick’s dad, and from Tia’s trouble. Tia is pointing something out to Kendrick. They could be brother and sister, the two of them. Ibrahim feels himself falling asleep. Ibrahim, Kendrick and Tia, three lost children. Of course you can’t save people from the world, all you can do is –
