I glanced back at the photo album lying open on the sofa. It was open on the page showing Andrew waving from the top of the coal shed. Why not call Andrew’s parents now? I asked myself as I glanced at my watch. It wasn’t too late. I could find out what became of him. I got up to rummage through a drawer where all my old address books were and soon found the one I wanted. There it was. Andrew’s old address. I doubted that he would still be there but his parents might be. I quickly dialled the number before I had a chance to change my mind.

‘Hello?’

‘Er, yes, is that Mrs Murphy?’

‘It is. Who is this?’

‘My name is Bea Brooks, you probably don’t remember me. I used to be a friend of Andrew’s, many years ago.’

‘Yes, dear, and how can I help?’

‘Well … I was wondering if you could give me a contact number. I’d like to get in touch.’

‘Oh no, I don’t think that’s going to be possible. He doesn’t live in this world any more.’

‘Oh, I am so sorry. When did he die?’

‘Die? Oh no, he’s not dead, though he might as well be. So you don’t know?’

‘Know what?’

‘He became a Trappist monk in his thirties. That’s the order where they take a vow of silence. He doesn’t even speak to us.’

‘No way.’

‘Oh yes. What did you say your name was?’

‘Bea Brooks. We were in junior school together.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t remember you, dear. I’m sorry I can’t help.’ She hung up and I burst out laughing. Marcia would too when she heard. So if Andrew is, or was, The One, I’d have to go and talk to him in sign language, I thought. Or take a load of cue cards that said: are you my soulmate? Do you believe in past lives?

I crossed Andrew’s name off the list. ‘And now we’re down to six,’ I said.

*

I transferred my list on to my laptop so I could put it into an email to send to Marcia when she was back. Job done. Now what? I glanced over at my laptop again. It seemed to be calling me in that way Häagen-Dazs can from the freezer.