The encounter with Flan had gone surprisingly well. ‘Oh, he was cranky,’ said Julian. ‘He gave me an earful. He also gave a good interview.’ Even better was some off-the-record information that Julian described as fantastically useful: ‘It brings everything on. This, Nina, is going to be a cracker.’ His tone made her uncomfortable. He spoke about everything as if it were a game. Then she chastised herself for being unfair. She was discovering that Julian had a salesman’s ability to adapt his personality to suit the occasion. He must have worked his magic on Flan.

Later that week, she decided to give the cottage a thorough clean. Julian was busy, busy, busy, and after two years living with Tom, she was unaccustomed to spending so much time on her own. Within an hour, she’d accumulated a large pile of rubbish, much of it belonging to Tom. She found books, papers, underwear, a tie. A tie! She couldn’t recall him wearing it. She reminded herself that these were inanimate objects. Stuff. She wasn’t going to get sentimental about stuff. Everything either went into a refuse sack or into the bag she’d set aside for the charity shop.

Next, she turned to an old shoebox containing bits and bobs, make-up, earrings and the Lord knows what else. Most of it she tipped straight into the sack. She picked up a bottle of nail varnish. Acapulco Sunset, not a colour she would ever have chosen herself. It was gloopy now. Unusable. She passed the bottle from one hand to the other and, as she did, she thought about the woman who had given it to her. This won’t last, she thought. Things change. People forgive. There were too many threads connecting her to Tess, to Conor, and, yes, to Tom, for their friendship to be permanently severed.

She placed the bottle in the same drawer as the letter and returned to her task.

Chapter 22

Jaisalmer, India, January 1992

Tom waited for the crowd at the telephone office to clear. Ten days had passed since Father Galvin’s anniversary, and he assumed the documentary had aired by now. He thought about it all the time. There were countless reasons not to call his parents, but he couldn’t hide for ever.