Closing her eyes, she pushed out the anger and the frustration. There was no place for them if she was going to discover the truth. Although she was cold and fear covered her skin, she didn’t feel vulnerable. That panic she knew too well. She was a woman and that fact alone had made her a target and a victim. No, the fear that ate at her stomach now was different.

She swung round and left the larder. It wouldn’t provide the answers she wanted. There had to be something she was missing. As she walked out of the kitchen, she saw a pile of local newspapers. The top headline read ‘Police break local drug ring’. That was the starting point, the police. She hurried to her room – she had some research to do.

36. Diana

36

Diana

4 August 1962, 11.00 a.m.

Dear Diary,

I am sitting on the beach wall waiting. The tender, full of guests, is on its way out to the boat. But I am cross. The Venns aren’t here. Why had they come earlier? And now when we wanted to go, why were they late?

‘Diana, what are you writing?’ Mummy walked towards her. She was wearing her big dark sunglasses and Diana couldn’t tell if she was cross.

‘Just that I am stuck waiting on the beach.’

Mummy smiled. ‘Well, if the Venns are not here by the time the tender returns, they will miss out.’ She looked up and the wind caught the ends of her scarf wrapped around her head. Its red and oranges tangled through her dark hair. Diana’s hair was in plaits again. She pushed one off her shoulder, smiling. It would be a better day’s sailing if they didn’t come.

‘What are they like?’

Diana glanced up. She didn’t like them, but it wasn’t polite to say that. ‘Pleasant.’ Diana enunciated the word carefully.

‘I see.’ Her mother laughed. ‘You don’t like them.’

Diana pursed her mouth. ‘I thought that was the correct thing to say but you knew.’

‘Oh, darling I only know because I know you and I know your word choice.’

‘So someone else wouldn’t have known.’

‘Absolutely not. The Venns are pleasant.’ She shielded her eyes even though she was wearing sunglasses. The last of the guests was now on board and the tender, with Daddy at the helm, was making its way back to the beach.

‘I wish you were coming too, Mummy.’

‘Me too but we do want a special party tonight.’

‘Yes.’ Diana nodded, watching Daddy cut the engine out and lift it up.

‘Hello.’ Mr Venn walked down onto the wall.

Diana closed her diary. Mr Venn held up a camera and snapped a picture of her. She frowned as Mrs Venn joined him. He counted to ten then pulled something out of the side of the it and waved it about. ‘Thought you might enjoy this Polaroid camera, Diana.’

‘Why?’ she asked, frowning.