My Sister's Bones(28)

‘Ha. As close as you can get to a feisty teenage girl.’ He laughs hollowly. ‘She was thirteen when I got together with Sal. Do you remember, they were living with your mum?’

‘Yes,’ I say, smiling. ‘I remember Sally called me and said she’d met this gorgeous guy over the garden fence and I thought she’d lost her mind because the only person I remember living next door was this bloke called Mr Matthews and he was about ninety.’

Paul laughs.

‘Your parents had bought it, hadn’t they?’ I ask.

‘Yeah. Old Matthews was put in a home and his son sold it to them,’ he says. ‘That was in 1994, just after you left. They had a good few years, then they died within a few months of each other.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Nah, they’d had a good innings,’ he says. ‘Still, it was a blessing and a curse them leaving me that house. I’d never really liked Herne Bay. I always found it depressing. My folks would drag me here on holiday every year and I just wanted to stay home in Bethnal Green and hang out with my mates. But Mum and Dad loved it. They always said they would retire here and they got their wish.’

‘It seems strange that you stayed here when you hated the place,’ I say, pouring myself another glass of wine. ‘You could have just sold the house. What made you settle here?’

He leans forward and smiles, his eyes glazed with the drink and the lights.

‘Sally,’ he says quietly. ‘Sally changed everything. I’d decided to rent out the house and the plan was to stay in my flat in London but then when I was showing the estate agent round the garden I heard a whistle. I turned and there she was. All my plans went out the window.’

He takes a sip of beer. I can see this is hard for him.

‘She was so excited,’ I tell him. ‘Said you looked like a short Liam Neeson.’

Paul splutters on his drink then wipes his mouth.

‘Liam Neeson? Was she having a laugh?’

‘Just happy, I guess.’

‘Yeah, we were happy,’ he says. ‘But I could see right from the start that she had her hands full with Hannah. Boy, did that girl give her some stick. I remember the first day I came round for Sunday lunch. We got as far as the second course and an almighty argument broke out between the pair of them. I can’t remember what it was about, too much gravy on her spuds, I don’t know, but I was taken aback. I know if I’d called my mum the names Hannah called Sal I’d have been given a good hiding. But she wasn’t my daughter; it wasn’t up to me to discipline her.’

‘Do you think the drink played a part in their problems?’

‘Possibly,’ he says. ‘Though it was more of a social thing at that point.’

‘But drinking can make people short-tempered,’ I say, remembering how my father’s rage would be magnified when he’d had a skinful.

‘Looking back, I probably was a bit blinkered,’ says Paul. ‘I think I just wanted to see the best in Sally.’

‘We all did.’ I drain my glass and, without thinking, pour myself another.

‘It was your mum who finally told me about Sally’s drinking. I think she thought I should know,’ says Paul. ‘She said that when Hannah was a kid Sally used to drag her to the pub and make her sit outside while she got drunk.’

I nod my head, remembering my mum’s frantic phone calls, her terrified voice telling me that Sally and Hannah had gone missing again. Then the follow-up call to let me know they’d been found and that Sally was just a bit under the weather.

‘But that was before she met me,’ says Paul. ‘And I convinced myself that I’d fixed her and she wouldn’t slip into her old ways again. But it helped with Hannah. When I found out about what she’d been through as a kid I started to cut her some slack. And I told Sally to go easy on her too. After that things were better. I got on well with Hannah, we started to do things as a family. It was wonderful.’

His voice breaks and he squeezes his hands together.

‘I moved them out of your mum’s place and we bought the house on the Willow Estate. Sally was still working at the bank so there was plenty of money coming in. But then it all went pear-shaped.’

‘What happened?’ It suddenly hits me that I’ve never actually asked Paul for his side of the story. The only version I had was Mum’s.

‘Well, Hannah started asking questions about her real dad but Sally was having none of it. I think she was worried that Hannah would get hurt. But I told her it was only natural she’d want to meet her dad. If I was her I’d want to know who my father was. I thought things had settled down then one night I came home and found Hannah in a right state. Apparently Sal had found her searching her father’s name on the internet. She’d gone mad and shouted at Hannah, said some terrible things.’

‘What things?’

‘Oh, you know Sally once she gets going,’ he says, raising his eyebrow. ‘She told Hannah that this bloke, the dad, had wanted her to have an abortion. It was probably true but she shouldn’t have said it. Hannah was devastated. I mean, no one wants to find out that their dad wanted to abort them.’

‘He was just a kid,’ I say. ‘Same age as Sal, barely in his teens when it happened. His family moved away soon after. I think it was his parents who were pressing for the abortion.’