‘No. I didn’t have the chance, she fell asleep.’ She rocked from one foot to another. ‘She wanted forgiveness. She kept asking for it.’ Her mother ground the words out.

‘Did you give it?’ Lottie walked closer, taking in the wild look in her mother’s eyes. Where was the tight control of the past? Her mother nodded. That was a relief.

Lottie’s phone rang. It was the private investigator. ‘I need to take this.’ She walked out into the courtyard.

‘Hello,’ she said.

‘Lottie?’

‘Yes?’

‘It’s Jamie Sharp. Sorry to disturb you with your grandmother being so ill, but I just wanted to touch base.’

‘Thanks.’ Lottie looked around. ‘I don’t suppose Paul’s ex had any idea where he is?’

‘Yes, she did. He’s in Thailand.’

‘What?’

‘She postponed our meeting but confirmed that’s where he was.’

‘Great.’ Lottie rolled her eyes.

‘I’ll be in touch when I have more news.’

‘Thanks.’ The phone clicked. She was trapped in a mess of her own making.

47. Diana

47

Diana

4 August 1962, 4.35 p.m.

Diana drank the milk down in one gulp. Sailing back had been fun but the rest of the day had been boring. Someone had been ill. Daddy became cross and Mrs Venn fussed over Diana’s skin again. She also kept trying to read Diana’s diary, and when Diana had gone to help fix a sail she’d come back to find Mrs Venn doing just that. It just wasn’t right, and she’d told Mrs Venn it was private. The woman had laughed. Every time Mrs Venn had turned her back, Diana had stuck her tongue out. Daddy had seen her and they had had words. It wasn’t right that the woman was trying to read her diary. It was private.

Mrs Hoskine handed Diana a scone with jam and clotted cream. ‘Are you all right?’

She nodded. ‘Thank you.’ She tucked her diary under her on the chair. She would be very careful with it. At the end of the kitchen table was the camera that she’d been given. She didn’t want it. She didn’t want anything from the Venns.

Uncle Tom walked into the kitchen. He smiled and Diana felt better. ‘New?’ He held up the camera.

She nodded.

‘From the United States?’

‘I think so. Mr Venn gave it to me.’

‘Did he?’ He raised an eyebrow then he studied the camera. ‘Did they give you film for it?’

She shook her head.

‘Hmmm.’ He put it back down the on the table. ‘I suppose you could use it to take some photographs of the party for your father.’

She grinned. ‘I could make a book for Daddy.’

‘You could.’ Uncle Tom pinched a scone that Mrs Hoskine had just unpacked. ‘May I?’ He said, and she smiled at him. Everyone liked Uncle Tom. He walked out into the courtyard with his scone.