They say goodbye and Lorna climbs the wooden stairs to her bedroom to change into a slinky red dress that she knows is Alberto’s favourite. He calls it her Jessica Rabbit dress because it accentuates her bust. As she tries to fix the damage to her hair she mulls over the conversation with her daughter. Two bodies buried in the garden. A man and a woman. A memory, hazy and warped, flits through her mind – a flash of a garden, darkness punctuated by fireworks exploding into the night sky – but before she can grasp hold of it, it floats away, like the seeds of a dandelion on the breeze, out of reach.

7

Saffy

I SPOT MUM STRAIGHT AWAY. SHE’S STRIDING THROUGH Arrivals at Bristol airport in an unnecessarily large floppy straw hat and pink cropped jeans that show off all her curves. She has a wristful of bangles and huge dangly earrings that catch the light when she moves. She looks like a chandelier. Men stare at my mother. It used to embarrass me when I was younger: Mum’s exuberance, her naturally flirty nature and cleavage that was always on display. Plus she was so much younger than the other mums at the school gates. But not now. The two of us living in different countries has made me realize how much I miss her. I wonder if it’s because I’m about to become a mother myself. I’m not sure how Mum will feel about being a gran at forty-one. Will it make her feel old? I swallow my worries. I can’t be thinking about that now. I’ve got too much else on my mind.

Like the phone call yesterday evening from the detective.

When Mum spots me, a wide smile lights up her whole face and she click-clacks towards me in her heeled sandals, pulling a leopard-print suitcase behind her.

‘Honey,’ she cries, wrapping me into a hug. She smells familiar, of Tom Ford perfume and coconut sun cream. ‘It’s so lovely to see you.’

‘You too. Looking well, Mum.’

Mum holds me at arms’ length to assess me. ‘So do you,’ she says, and I have to laugh to myself at the surprise in her voice. ‘You look like you’ve filled out a bit. It suits you. You know I think you’re too skinny.’ And then she looks around. ‘Where’s Tom?’

‘He’s waiting by the car with Snowy.’

She links arms with me. ‘It’ll be lovely to see him. Now, tell me about these skeletons. It all sounds so unbelievable, doesn’t it?’

I open my mouth to speak but Mum continues, ‘I mean, as long as the police don’t go charging in there upsetting your gran with lots of questions. Let me know the name of the police officer you’re dealing with and I’ll find out exactly what they’re planning to do. I’ll . . .’