some line about my having only just got back from Carla’s when I realised his hair was dark with sweat. He’d been running, at this hour. Reaching his thumbs into the neck of his T-shirt, he hunched and hooked it over his head.
‘How far?’ I asked, trying to disguise my concern.
He got down on the floor, unlaced his trainers and removed his socks.
‘Fifteen miles,’ he said, wincing as he peeled the soaked fabric from his reddening toes. He held out his wrist and nodded at his watch. ‘I did a personal best.’
I looked at the door to the spare room and the files contained inside. Finding something in there to connect Barney’s disappearance with the off-licence was going to be a long-drawn-out process. I’d return to it soon but, in the meanwhile, the boy’s face would continue to gnaw at me.
Jason stretched his arms and yawned.
‘I need a shower.’ He pulled down his shorts and stepped out of them, towards the bathroom. His body was lithe and strong. Clean lines of muscle pulled tight over caramel skin, it seemed to pulse with the after-effects of his run.
‘Wait.’ I took a step forward and cupped my hands around his face. ‘How about some company?’ I brought his mouth to mine. His lips were salty with dried sweat. He returned the kiss but then, seeming to think better of it, he pulled away. Reaching down to the floor for his abandoned shorts and T-shirt, he screwed them into a ball and held them in front of his chest.
‘You go on and get into bed and I’ll join you when I’m done.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise,’ he said, backing towards the shower, and with that he closed the door.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, I was up and dressed before first light. In the end, Jason had taken so long in the shower that I’d fallen asleep. I hadn’t heard him come to bed. Now, while he slept on, his arms surrendered high above his head, I took the alarm clock from the bedside table, perched on the old nursing chair we kept by the window and pulled the curtain to one side. Leaning forward, I placed the clock on the sill and waited for it to reach 6.07 a.m.
6.07 a.m. The time twelve years ago that Lauren, vernix-waxed and mewling, had made her way into this world.
In my hand was an old silver pocket-compass. Lauren’s compass.
A few boxes of books, clothes and pictures aside, as time had gone on I’d gradually come to part with most of her things. Everything except this compass. A small heavy weight at the bottom of my bag, I tended to carry it around with me always, its presence a comfort I couldn’t do without.
While I waited for the minutes to pass, I popped the catch and ran my thumb over the disc’s bevelled glass. Her favourite thing by far – none of her teddies, dolls or gadgets came even close – Lauren had acquired it on one of our weekends at Mum and Dad’s caravan in Whitstable. Trailing us around the town’s junk shops, that day she’d been pouty and restless, impatient to return to the arcades and bags of pink candyfloss that ballooned onto the streets. But then, mooching through a tray of old coins and mariner tat, she’d come across what she’d thought was a watch. Engraved with an elaborate thistle design, it had a flat back, smooth except for a miniscule indented hallmark, and was topped with a metal ring loop that, when spun, gave out an ear-piercing ratchet-and-pawl burr. Clicking open its pull-fit catch, she’d brought it over to show me, fascinated by the mother-of-pearl dial, elaborate wind-rose and triangular degree markings. After I’d explained how it worked and what it was for, she’d stalked off into the far corner of the shop and, pretending to be lost, had flipped it open, her eyes widening as the needle pivoted north.
When it came time to leave, I’d asked her to return the compass to its tray, but she’d refused. Clutching it to her chest, she had pleaded with me to buy it. It wasn’t expensive, maybe £10 or so, but, careful not to give in to her every whim, I’d said no. Still she’d continued to beg. Getting down on her knees, hands clasped, she’d promised me her pocket money, her favourite teddy, the birthday bike she’d set her heart on, anything so long as she could leave the shop with this old compass in her possession. Lauren