My Name is Eva An absolutely gripping and emotional historical novel - Suzanne Goldring Page 0,57

house. When we were looking through those old photos the other week, I’m sure we saw him somewhere among all those snaps in the tin.’ She jumps up, adding, ‘I’ll just run up to your room, Aunt, and fetch it.’

‘I’d like a biscuit while you’re at it,’ Evelyn says. ‘Don’t eat them all yourself before you come back down here.’

‘I’m guessing she means it’s an old empty tin and there aren’t any biscuits in it any more, just photos,’ says Inspector Williams.

‘Oh, that’s a pity. I’m feeling a bit peckish. I’d rather like a biscuit now. Isn’t it time yet for morning coffee?’

‘Shall I see if a member of staff can bring us some drinks and biscuits then?’

‘Oh, that would be nice. You are kind. Ask them to open a new packet, will you? They grow stale so quickly and I really don’t like a soft biscuit.’

Evelyn watches him leave and thinks about her next move in this fascinating game. She doesn’t really like crying; tears were never her way. Maybe she could pretend to feel unwell. Or she could say she needs to be escorted to the bathroom; that would stall him for a while, but perhaps she can think of something else more amusing.

He soon returns and announces that refreshments are on their way. Then finally, Pat comes back, bearing the infamous biscuit tin. ‘I’ve had a quick look for that photo,’ she says, ‘but I can’t seem to find it. I would have emptied the tin out upstairs and had a proper look, but I didn’t want to keep you all waiting. I thought we could sort them out down here instead.’ She goes over to the mahogany console table, removes the pile of old issues of Country Life and tips out the contents of the tin. Shots of a past life slip and slide on the polished surface, some falling to the carpeted floor.

While Pat is cursing the mess and picking up the little Brownie camera snaps, Inspector Williams hands Evelyn the cup of coffee that has just arrived and offers her a biscuit. She takes a Nice biscuit and holds it up, saying, ‘It always amused Mama when I was little, when I said I liked nice biscuits.’ He obliges her with a polite restrained laugh.

Pat has been muttering in the background and then she appears at Evelyn’s side, thrusting a torn photograph under her nose. ‘Look at this. When did this happen?’

Evelyn peers at the black and white picture in Pat’s hand. ‘What’s that, dear? It’s very creased. Taken a long time ago, I should think.’

‘Yes, I know that. We both know that. But I mean, when did it get torn? It wasn’t like this the other day, was it?’ She waves the damaged photograph in front of her aunt again and points to the torn edge. ‘Look, there are only three people in this picture now. I’m sure there was a fourth the other day when we looked through the tin. There was, wasn’t there? I know I’m not imagining it.’

She gives the photo to Inspector Williams, saying, ‘I don’t know how this has happened, but I’m sure this was a picture of a group of four and that the man you’re asking about was one of them. And I definitely don’t remember it being torn the other day. It looks like a strip has been ripped off the side of the photo. And look, there’s my aunt. In her uniform, just like in that portrait photograph. She’s right there, on the left.’

He studies the image, then says, ‘This print is quite crumpled and there’s another small tear in the middle. Maybe it was already torn and you didn’t notice. Mrs T-C, do you remember this picture being taken?’

Evelyn shakes her head and her coffee spills into the saucer, so she puts it down on the little table at her side.

‘Take a minute to think about it,’ he says. ‘Can you remember who else was in the group when this was taken?’

She frowns, then shakes her head again.

Pat says, ‘It was him, I’m positive. It’s such a distinctive face. I knew I’d seen it somewhere and I know it was in this picture the other day.’ She looks cross and folds her arms. ‘I should never have left the tin with her. I just thought she’d enjoy looking through it, for old times’ sake.’

Evelyn looks up, a big smile across her face. ‘Pat dear, that’s it. You’ve just solved the clue. You are