I said: "Orange juice, coffee, Frosties and toast. Will there be anything else, Ma'am?"
"Ooh, thank you. I like this hotel. No, that should be everything. I wasn't asleep, just dreaming."
"Did the thunder disturb you?"
"Thunder? No, did it thunder?"
"Just a little. Flattened two houses down the street and blew the roof off next door."
"Well, I didn't hear it."
I placed the tray on her lap and dropped another pillow behind her head. "Don't be all day," I told her. "There's a faint chance that your dad might call."
"Is that why you told me to bring my shoes and bag upstairs?"
"Yes." She laughed and called me silly, but I told her that there was nothing silly about self-preservation.
I turned to go, but she said: "Uncle Charles."
"Mmm." I stopped and leaned on the doorjamb, my hand on the handle.
"About last night."
"What about it?"
"I'm glad we… you know… that we didn't."
"Good. So am I."
"But somehow, it feels as if… as if it was still a bit special. I feel… closer to you, if you know what I mean. I was upset when I decided to come to see you, all mixed up. You were the only person I could think of. Thank you for looking after me. I love you, I really do. You're my best friend."
"Yes, Sophie," I replied. "I know what you mean, and I love you more than ever. That's not always the case, the morning after, believe me. Now eat your breakfast. I want you downstairs in ten minutes."
As I crossed the landing I heard her calclass="underline" "Can I have a shower, please."
"Yes!" I yelled back.
I drove her down to Cambridge and we breakfasted at a Little Chef on the Al. Sophie said she was determined to get her degree, even with a baby to look after. If Digby stayed on for his masters it shouldn't be a problem. Near Cambridge we stopped again and had a chat sitting in a car park outside a greasy-spoon. I warned her that her mother's birthday was looming large and that she'd be in big trouble if she forgot to send a card. She said that might be a good time to introduce them to Digby and announce their engagement. We said our goodbyes, swore our undying love, and I told her that I'd always be there for her.
"And don't forget to send me an invite," I said as I started the engine for the last few miles.
"You're top of the list, Uncle Charles."
"Thank you."
"Shall we make it and friend?"
"No, I don't think so. Which way?"
"Follow the ring road. Is there anybody?"
"Not really. I thought there might be, but suddenly she doesn't want to know."
"Why's that?"
"I don't know."
"What's she called?"
"Rosie."
"She's a fool. When she knows you better she'll change her mind." Sophie reached out and touched my face. "Your hair'ji long."
I tilted my head to trap her fingers between my cheek and shoulder. "It needs cutting."
"I like it long. It suits you."
"Thanks. I don't think Rosie will ever have the chance to know me better."
"In that case you'll have to work at it, won't you? And then we can all be happy."
"Are you happy, Sophie?"
There was the slightest hesitation before she said: "Yes, I am."
"Then I'm happy too," I told her.
I hadn't tried to put a face on Digby, but he wasn't quite what I expected. He was an inch shorter than Sophie but broad-shouldered, with sandy hair and a rugby player's nose. The rugby image was reinforced by the county shirt he was wearing, and I suspected that he'd earned it, not bought it at JJB Sports. He was clearly devoted to Sophie and his face lit up like an herbaceous border as he hugged her. He shook my hand, then asked Sophie how her parents were.
"They're fine," she replied, lying with a facility that would have been the envy of most of the villains I meet. "Uncle Charles came round and insisted on driving me back."
"That's really nice of you," he told me.
"My pleasure," I replied. "We see so little of Sophie these days."
They gave me afternoon tea and Digby said he was studying computer sciences and had been offered a job with Intel in Dublin. I liked him, and thought Sophie's dad would, too, once he'd cleared the Digby hurdle.
"Look after her," I told him as we shook hands again, standing on the pavement next to my car.
"I will," he promised, and I believed him.
Sophie gave me a peck on the cheek as she hugged me and I rubbed the small of her back in a non-avuncular way. "Don't forget to talk to Rosie," she said, matter of fact, as much for Digby's benefit as mine, I suspected. Round the corner I stopped and sorted through my CDs for the long drive north. "Desire" would do for starters:
I married Isis on the fifth day of May But I could not hold on to her for very long.
So I cut off my hair and I rode straight away For the wild unknown country where I could not go wrong.
Hooray for 24-7 supermarkets. It was early evening as I hit Heckley, so I called in Grainger's and did a medium shop. The place was manned by schoolgirls, earning money for riding lessons and the latest Pop Idol CD, but I wasn't complaining. I had a calorie-counter's sweet-and-sour chicken for tea, followed by sticky toffee pudding and custard, all done in the microwave. Very tasty. As weekends go this one had been pretty serendipitous. OK, be honest, it was one of the most serendipitous weekends of my life. I was on a roll, so I decided to push it. I found my diary and dialled Rosie's number. She picked up the phone after the first ring.
"Um, hello Rosie," I said, slightly off guard. "It's Charlie Priest." This time I didn't add the as in Roman Catholic.
"Hello Charlie. How are you?"
"I'm splendid. Fine, thanks. And you?"
"Oh, I'm all right."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"You don't sound it."
"Well I am."
"Good. So how about that drink sometime?"
"I don't think so, Charlie. I thought I made that clear the last time we spoke."
"Rosie," I began, "I'm not very good at this sort of thing, and I don't want to be a nuisance, but I thought we were getting on reasonably well, and then, I don't know, you suddenly became distant. Did I say something I shouldn't have, or offend you in any way?"
"No, of course not, Charlie. It's just that… I don't want to become involved."
"Going out for a Chinese is hardly becoming involved."
"I know. I tried to tell you, on the phone. I come with baggage-"
"To hell with baggage, Rosie. I don't give a toss about baggage. We were doing fine until I said that I was a cop. That's when your attitude changed. Now, I don't think you're a master criminal — a Mafia godmother or head of an international drugs cartel — so what's it all about?"
She was silent for a while and I expected her to come back and tell me to mind my own, but eventually she said: "You're right, Charlie. It is to do with you being a detective. I'm involved in a legal procedure and I've been advised not to speak to any policemen, that's all."
"What, by a solicitor?"
"Not exactly."
"Then by whom?"
"By a TV production company. First Call TV."
"And why don't they want you talking to any policemen?"
"Because they say you'll try to influence me. We're taking out an action against the police, and they say you'll apply pressure for me to drop it."
"Oh, I see. Well, no I don't see. If you had a case, Rosie, we'd probably help you. There are procedures for this sort of thing. Do you want to tell me what it's about?"
"It's about my father. I'm trying to clear his name and they're helping. They want to do a documentary about his case."