Diana wrote down Pat Treneer’s phone number and cleared her searches from the computer. She was certain that with just a bit more information she would piece together this puzzle and finally resolve the question in her mind regarding her father’s death. Logically, she knew that it was history and it didn’t matter if he had fallen from the cliff or jumped. But part of her was still a child and that child wanted to know her father hadn’t willingly left her. It shouldn’t matter but it did.

Leaving the library, she dialled Pat’s number.

‘Hello.’ A man answered.

‘Is that Pat Treneer?’ She unlocked her car.

‘It is, who’s asking?’

‘I’m Diana Trewin.’ The sun beat down on her. She found it hard that the weather was so beautiful while inside her thoughts darkened.

‘Of Boskenna?’

She leaned against the car and laughed silently. Not Diana Trewin from the television. ‘Yes.’

‘How can I help you?’

‘I was wondering if you could talk to me about my father’s death.’

‘Ah.’

‘Mr Treneer?’ she asked, opening the car door and placing her bag on the seat.

‘Yes, I remember it well.’

She straightened. ‘How well?’

‘What do you want to know?’

Looking at the box of photos on the passenger seat, she had put them in chronological order. If nothing else, they would give her a visual map to help her to find her way forward. ‘I can’t remember much about it.’ She slid into the car.

‘You were young and very broken up about it.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Are you in St Austell?’

‘Yes.’

‘Come round now, if you like.’

She put the key in the ignition. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’

‘You know where I am?’ he said.

She clicked on her seatbelt. ‘Yes.’

‘Bleddy internet, I bet.’

She laughed.

‘Would have made my job a lot easier back in the day. See you soon. I’ll put the kettle on.’

Diana hung up, smiling. Finally, she was getting somewhere – but she didn’t know where it would lead.

42. Lottie

42

Lottie

4 August 2018, 2.00 p.m.

Gramps had his lunch on a tray upstairs with Gran. Lottie didn’t feel hungry, but she knew that she needed to eat.

Alex stood by the door to the courtyard. ‘Hi, any spare?’

She smiled. ‘Yes, come join me.’ Grabbing another bowl out of the cupboard, she handed it to him.

‘Thanks.’

She sat down and passed the salad. ‘Must be hard not to have a kitchen.’

He grinned. ‘Not really, with two in this house.’