The Dry (Aaron Falk #1)(53)

For a long moment the only sound in the kitchen was the coffeemaker steaming away on the pristine counter.

“It’s OK, love. You’re not the only person who feels that way,” Whitlam said. He reached across the kitchen counter and put his hand over his wife’s. She was blinking rapidly, her mascara smudging around the edges. She left her hand there for a moment before slipping it away to reach for a tissue.

Whitlam turned to Falk. “It’s been terrible for all of us. Losing a student. Danielle losing her little buddy. Sandra feels for Karen, obviously.”

Sandra made a small noise in her throat.

“You said Billy was supposed to come over to play the afternoon he died,” Falk said, remembering the conversation at the school.

“Yes.” Sandra blew her nose and busied herself pouring more coffee while she almost visibly pulled herself together. “We used to have him over quite a lot. And vice versa, Danielle would go to their place as well. They got on like a house on fire; it was quite sweet really. She really misses him. She can’t understand that he’s not coming back.”

“So this was a regular arrangement?” Falk asked.

“Not regular, but certainly not unusual,” Sandra said. “I hadn’t organized anything with Karen for that week, but then Danielle found this junior badminton set we got her for her last birthday. She and Billy were terrible at it, but they used to love messing about with it. She hadn’t used it for a while but suddenly got completely fixated on it—you know how children are—and wanted Billy to come over as soon as possible to play with it.”

“So when did you speak to Karen to set something up?” Falk asked.

“I think it was the day before, wasn’t it?” Sandra looked at her husband, who shrugged. “Well, I think it was. Because, remember, Danielle was pestering you to put the badminton net up in the garden? Anyway, I called Karen that night and asked if Billy wanted to come home with Danielle the next day. She said, ‘Yes, OK,’ and that was it.”

“How did she sound?”

Sandra frowned as though taking a test. “Fine, I thought,” she said. “It’s difficult to remember. Maybe a bit … distracted. It was only a short conversation, though. And it was late-ish, so we didn’t chat. I offered, she accepted, and that was that.”

“Until?”

“Until I got a call from her the next day. Just after lunchtime.”

“Sandra Whitlam speaking.”

“Sandra, hi. It’s Karen here.”

“Oh, hi. How are you doing?”

There was a brief pause followed by a tiny noise, perhaps a laugh, down the line.

“Yes, good question. Look, Sandra, I’m so sorry to do this to you, but Billy can’t come over this afternoon after all.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Sandra said, suppressing a groan. Now she or Scott, or possibly both, would be on call for at least a couple of rounds of junior badminton that evening. She mentally drew up a list of potential last-minute stand-ins. “Is everything OK?” she asked, a fraction late.

“Yes. It’s just—” The line went quiet, and for a moment Sandra thought they’d been cut off. “He’s been a bit under the weather lately. I think it’s better if he comes straight home today. I’m sorry. I hope Danielle won’t be too disappointed.”

Sandra felt a stab of guilt.

“No, honestly, don’t be silly. It can’t be helped if he’s not 100 percent. Probably wise, especially with what Danielle’s got in mind. We can rearrange.”

Another silence. Sandra glanced at the clock on the wall. Below, her to-do list fluttered against the corkboard.

“Yes,” Karen said finally. “Yes. Maybe.”

Sandra had farewell pleasantries on the tip of her tongue when she heard Karen sigh down the line. She hesitated. Show her a mother of school-age children who didn’t sigh on a daily basis, and she’d show you a woman with a nanny. Still, curiosity got the better of her.

“Karen, is everything all right?”

There was a silence.

“Yes.” A long pause. “Is everything all right with you?”

Sandra Whitlam rolled her eyes and glanced again at the clock. If she left for town right now she could be back in time to put the washing out and ring around to find a replacement for Billy before the school run.

“Fine, Karen. Thanks for letting me know about Billy. I hope he’s on the mend soon. Speak later.”

“I feel guilty every single day about that phone call,” Sandra said, refilling the coffee cups yet again like a nervous tic. “The way I rushed her off the phone like that. Perhaps she needed someone to talk to, and I just…” She teared up before she could finish her sentence.

“You weren’t to blame, love. How could you know what was going to happen?” Whitlam stood and put his arms around his wife. Sandra stood a little stiffly and glanced in embarrassment at Falk as she wiped her eyes with a tissue.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that she was such a nice person. She was one of the people who made it bearable to be here. Everyone loved her. All the school mums. Probably some of the school dads.” She started to give a little laugh that she cut dead in her throat. “Oh God, no, I didn’t mean—Karen would never … I just meant she was popular.”