“We’re... we were separated. Getting divorced.”
“There doesn’t appear to be anyone else we can ask, Mr. Rose.”
•••
She looked so young; a pale, sleeping girl, and Harry’s heart broke all over again. How alone must she have felt? His conscience whispered terrible things. He shut out the voice, but he couldn’t stop the tears.
That night, in the restless half sleep before the pain woke him, the ghosts came back, and he knew that, this time, they wanted revenge.
•••
WHY DID CAITLYN JUMP?screamed the headlines. Her bubbly personality had won her many fans, and opinion columns were full of speculation as to why someone so full of life could have wanted to end it all. Was it her split with Harry that had pushed her over the edge?
Harry went to ground, working from home. When Eliza quizzed him, he tried to fudge the truth about Caitlyn’s death, but she was thirteen now, and it was impossible. Her stepmother’s death was the hottest topic of gossip at school.
Once again, Eliza astonished him with her insight and maturity. “People who really want to be famous are usually insecure, Dad,” she said. “I bet she had an unhappy childhood.”
For a moment he couldn’t speak, remembering what Caitlyn hadtold him. “She did,” he said finally, giving her a hug. “When did you get to be so wise?”
“I was sad for some of my childhood too. I missed Mum, and it was horrible that she died. Then Janette died too. But I always had you, so I don’t feel like I want to be famous. Poor Caitlyn, I liked her a lot.”
Harry left the funeral arrangements to Cranwell, instructing him to make it small and discreet. No colleagues fromRock GodorDirty Rascals. He couldn’t stomach the thought of actor tears.
The police managed to track down Caitlyn’s father, Howie. Harry remembered her describing him as a “waste of space,” always broke, begging for handouts from relatives, and giving “precisely zero amounts of shit” about his children. Eventually he’d moved to Thailand to avoid his creditors.
One didn’t have to be Poirot to work out what had brought him home. When Howie pleaded insufficient funds for a plane ticket, Cranwell had wired him the money plus more for his expenses. The sorry wretch had touted his story around the tabloids, in spite of the fact that he hadn’t seen his daughter since she was five years old. On the morning of the funeral, the headline in theSunread,CAITLYN’S DAD: I’LL NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF.
•••
It was two months after the funeral, and the long, miserable winter was dragging on. Harry had spent a quiet Christmas at home with Charles, Megan, and the children. He’d drunk far too much and had carried on doing the same since. He wasn’t going to the gym anymore—too many Caitlyn-related memories—and was taking more pills than ever.
It was eight thirty in the morning, and Harry was waiting for Maria in a Thames-side café close to the Rose offices. She’d asked to meet him, and he’d suggested breakfast. He’d only recently started eating out again, but was still aware of the eyes focused on him. “Suicide” was an easy word to pick up when people were whispering about you.
He ordered a full English and opened theTimes.
“Father.”
“Hello, Maria.” He stood and kissed her cheek. It was cold from the chill February air. She had a new short haircut; it was fittingly severe.
As she took off her coat, he was filled with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. Fondness for the little girl he’d known before she went to Wales. Exasperation for this humorless creature who judged everyone and found them wanting. Especially him.
She ordered eggs and tea without looking the waitress in the face. How did that attitude go down in the human resources department?
“There are two things I want to talk about,” she said.
“Fire away.” There was no point in attempting preliminary small talk.
“Tom Cranwell.”
“What about him?”
“We’ve had a complaint. More than one, actually. I can’t go into detail because of staff confidentiality, but the general picture is sexual harassment. And verbal harassment—innuendo.”
“You have proof?”
“The reports are stacking up. It can’t be tolerated. Incidentally, Suvarna, the receptionist on your floor, saw him assault your ex-wife as she was leaving. And... I saw Caitlyn that day. I regret being a little short with her now.”
“What? HeassaultedCaitlyn?”