at his daughter in her black scooped-neck dress. She was even wearing high heels.
‘You look beautiful, Moss,’ he said in genuine admiration. ‘I’ve got a taxi waiting. Let’s go.’
Finn ordered wine, and Moss was surprised to see that he tasted it and allowed the waiter to fill his glass.
‘Special occasion, Moss. I’m not an alcoholic. I just choose not to drink most of the time. But with a good meal and good company . . .’
They touched glasses. The restaurant was in the old assay building, and the renovators had kept the mosaic floor tiles, the intricate timber panelling and Art Nouveau stained glass. A fire was burning in the grate and individual lamps cast a glow on fine glasses and silver.
Moss was impressed. ‘What a wonderful place, Finn.’ She was even more impressed by the ease with which her father ordered. Clearly, he’d been used to this at some time in his life.
Finn’s response to his surroundings came from the subliminal impulse of memory. He didn’t stop to think about how he should act, and his natural courtesy gave him a dignity that charmed his daughter. As they waited for their soup, he lifted his glass again.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘happy birthday, Moss.’
‘It’s not . . .’ Moss began.
‘I know,’ her father said gently. ‘But I’ve missed so many; you’ll have to allow me this one.’
Moss grinned to cover her emotion. ‘As long as I don’t have to age another year.’
Finn reddened and fished in his pocket. ‘I’ve got a present. For your birthday.’ He looked on apprehensively as Moss fumbled with the now awkwardly tied parcel. ‘I hope you like it.’
Moss was embarrassed and took longer than necessary to unwrap the gift. Presents always made her feel uncomfortable, and a gift from the undemonstrative Finn would take them a step further in their relationship. She finally opened the box and took out the pendant, which caught the light of the table lamp. Her eyes widened. It was exquisite.
‘Finn, you shouldn’t have . . .’ She saw the disappointment in his eyes. ‘But it’s wonderful. Beautiful. Truly, I love it.’ She took off the silver chain she was wearing and clasped the pendant around her neck. ‘There. What do you think?’
The old charm surfaced as Finn smiled at his daughter. ‘You look like a princess,’ he said.
As the meal progressed, Finn ventured a question about her plans. ‘Did you catch up with your course supervisor?’
‘I’ve got till February to decide,’ Moss replied shortly.
‘I’m sorry, Moss. I didn’t mean to pry.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘It’s Linsey, Finn. I know I should continue for her sake as well as my own, but I feel so bad about the way I treated her and—I don’t know . . . I went to the memorial wall and . . . She asked for me to sing, you know? That’s a good sign, don’t you think?’ She looked at her father hopefully.
Finn was appalled to see her tears. This outing was supposed to cheer her up. He searched his mind for things to say: wise, compassionate things that would smooth the tension from her face and, most of all, stop her from crying. But he’d always been at a loss when women cried.
‘I’m sure you’ll get back to your singing,’ he said, ignoring her last question. ‘Let’s talk about something more cheerful. You’ll never guess what Sandy’s been up to.’
Moss sighed and brushed her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me we’re getting a giant cockatoo as well!’
16
Lily Pargetter and her baby
EAGER AS USUAL TO GET his plans underway, Sandy asked Moss and Finn to meet him at the pub for lunch. ‘I don’t want Aunt Lily to know for now,’ he said. ‘I’ve got some information, and I need to discuss where to go from here.’
‘It’s like this,’ he said after they’d ordered their meal. ‘There are identifiable places where babies were buried, but there’s no record of Aunt Lily’s baby anywhere. The woman from SANDS suggests taking her to the Church of England section of the cemetery. It might comfort her to see the burial place and the memorial—give her another focus. What do you think?’
‘All I know is that she needs some sort of help,’ said Moss. ‘She’s in pain, Sandy. She hides it well enough, but I’ve seen her with her defences down.’
Sandy sipped his beer thoughtfully, and they sat in silence while the pub noise rose and fell around them.
Finn finally spoke. ‘So you don’t know whether to tell Mrs Pargetter that