My Name is Eva An absolutely gripping and emotional historical novel - Suzanne Goldring Page 0,60
now he could no longer achieve anything and couldn’t see the point of life. I’m inclined to agree with him.
This game has kept me occupied and entertained for a time. And it’s been such a lot of fun, but I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up this pretence. I’m feeling very tired and sometimes I think I would like to just fall asleep and never wake up again, then I could join you in Heaven and we would be together for ever more.
Your ever-loving Evie,
XXX
Ps I love you
43
Mrs T-C, 2 December 2016
Talcum and Sherry
This looks serious. Pat has just arrived, all crumpled lambswool sweater and fraying scarf, with a bagful of brochures. Whatever is she going to want now?
Breathless, she says, ‘I suddenly thought, ages ago, you told me to look in the bureau. Do you remember?’
‘Did I, dear? What did I tell you to look for?’
‘Insurance valuations. You said you thought you had some old ones there. Well, you were right. I found them yesterday and they’ve been very helpful. It’s given me a complete inventory of the stuff worth saving at least.’ She holds out one of the reports.
Evelyn remembers it very clearly and also remembers why he had wanted the information, as he sat in her house, Sunday after Sunday, scoffing her food and drinking her wine, and calculating how much he would profit from any sales.
‘And someone’s done some very useful sums as well, totting up all the different amounts involved.’ She points to some figures written in ink in the margin. ‘That’s not your writing, is it?’
Evelyn shakes her head. No, it isn’t hers, but she knows whose it is. She had truly forgotten that this scrap of evidence, this proof that he had visited Kingsley Manor, ever existed. How could she have forgotten? Without even trying she can see him sitting at the kitchen table, reports spread out in front of him, pen poised, his greedy mind identifying her choicest valuables, adding up their combined value. He had almost salivated at the prospect of enjoying some of her wealth.
‘Auntie, are you feeling all right? You’re awfully pale.’ Pat puts a hand on her aunt’s shoulder. ‘Should I fetch someone?’
‘No, dear. I’m all right. Just a little tired today, I think.’ Evelyn stares again at the tidy handwriting, precise and neat, just like him. If the police saw this and compared it to any documents they might have collected from his flat, they could link it to him and then how could she explain? But how likely is it that they would still have any evidence from there? He disappeared so many years ago and the case should have been closed and forgotten.
She points to the brochure and the scrawl, then says, ‘I think it must have been the man from the auction house, dear. I seem to remember he came over to Kingsley in person and explained to me how they calculate these figures. I didn’t take him up on it, of course. I didn’t want to sell anything at that time, I just did it for insurance purposes.’
‘Well, I’m jolly glad you did have him over. It’s been most helpful. But I’m having trouble finding everything that’s listed here. Like this, for instance, Majolica Palissy ware. Sea creatures and seaweed, it says. I’m not sure what they look like and I can’t seem to find anything that fits that description.’
‘Let me see.’ Evelyn pretends to think. She knows exactly what happened: she sold the ugly plates at a country auction and the handsome profit paid for an airfare to Frankfurt. Just one last visit, before it was too late, for old times’ sake. She had driven out to the village and found the little house with its fence, its hedge and its fruit trees, looking much the same as they had all those years ago. There was no one there and even if there had been, how would she have recognised her?
‘They may have got broken,’ she says. ‘Those grotesque platters, with all those curling hideous creatures, were terrible dust traps. We only took them off the wall once a year for a good wash. But Sharon always had a lot of trouble trying to clean them properly. Yes, I think that’s what happened.’
‘Well, it’s a pity. They were worth a few bob and it all adds up, you know. Every little bit helps to keep you in comfort here in this lovely home.’