Just The Way You Are(73)

‘So what do I do in the meantime?’

‘Well, if I’m not mistaken, I think I heard someone mention a party…’





24





The following afternoon, Joan had her breakthrough. Tucked deep inside the pocket of a ratty rucksack that we found stuffed at the back of Leanne’s wardrobe was a birth certificate for Leanne Emily Armitage-Brown, born on 12 October 1988. Parents: Carole and Peter Armitage-Brown. Place of birth: Chester.

Joan didn’t have the internet on her phone so we skedaddled straight back to End Cottage and whipped open my laptop.

Carole Armitage-Brown had a Facebook account – all private, with a profile picture of a cat, so I made a friend request and moved on.

Peter Armitage-Brown came up on LinkedIn as a retired construction manager for a Cheshire building firm. He’d worked for the same company for forty-seven years. According to their website, they were doing pretty well. We scoured the blog posts and news features, but didn’t find anything specific about Peter. We even tried a website that used information from electoral rolls and directory enquiries, but that came up empty.

But maybe this was enough, for a Ranger on the hunt?

I sent Sam a brief message with a photo of the birth certificate, and he sent me back a selfie of him braced in the branches of an enormous oak tree gripping a chainsaw, with the caption:

Bit busy will call later.





‘I don’t think it’s safe to be sending messages when you’re up a tree.’ Joan frowned. ‘Especially not when you’re holding a massive saw.’

I was inclined to agree. I kept the photo anyway.





The next day – Tuesday – just before six, when I was in that now-familiar post-hospital standing-in-front-of-the-fridge-and-wondering-what-to-eat time of day, Sam arrived.

‘I was supposed to prepare you dinner, but thought Joan would prefer me to spend the time searching instead, so I got this.’

He held out one giant and one individual pizza box, which both smelt so delicious I almost swooned. That is, until Sam brushed past me in the kitchen and I caught a whiff of his freshly washed hair and what I suspected might be a hint of aftershave and I almost forgot all about the pizza.

While Joan washed her hands and collected plates and drinks, I hurried round to Middle Cottage with the individual pizza. For a brief, exhilarating moment, I thought Ebenezer would answer after my first knock, but when Joan hopped out of the back door, bursting with impatience, I gave up and rapped again. When the door swung open on my second tap, I decided that counted as one knock – and another step closer to my end goal.

‘Pizza,’ I announced. ‘Wheat-free. All the works.’

‘All the works?’ he grizzled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means tons of toppings. Meat, veggies, olives, extra cheese.’

‘Sounds like a revolting mess.’

‘But tastes and smells delicious.’ I handed him the box with a grin and skipped off.





Joan sat, ignoring her slice of Pepperoni Passion until I insisted she take a bite before Sam shared what he’d found. Thankfully, he got straight to the important bit:

‘I have an address.’

Joan looked at me, her face a mixture of excitement and I told you so!

‘How sure are you?’ I asked, my heart careening about in my chest.

‘I’m very confident that a Carole and Peter Armitage-Brown, living in Chester, are the parents of Leanne Emily Armitage-Brown, born in Chester. I’ve had a decent search and can’t find anyone else with those names.’

‘You found them.’ A piece of pepperoni slid off the slice of Joan’s pizza as it dangled halfway between the plate and her open mouth.

‘Yes.’

‘When can we go?’ Joan asked. ‘Do you have any reading sessions tomorrow because I’m sure they won’t mind you cancelling if you explain that it’s an emergency and you can always rearrange for the day after and please can we go tomorrow, please, Ollie, you know how much this means to me!’

I waited for her to stop and take a breath.

‘Do you have a phone number?’

Sam shook his head apologetically.

‘Can we get one?’

‘Not legally, no. I’ve tried all the obvious searches.’

I had another quick check to see if Carole had accepted my friend request, but it remained unanswered.

‘I do know how much this means to you, Joan, but we need to think a few things through first.’

Her cheeks flushed pink with annoyance. ‘What things?’

‘Things like whether this is the best thing to do, when would be a good time to go if it is, whether or not you should come.’

Joan broke out in outraged splutters at that comment.

‘They might not still live there. Or they might be on holiday – it is August. They might—’

‘I know!’ she shouted, her chair scraping across the tiles as she jumped to her feet. ‘They might be dead! They might be evil criminals who shoot us for trespassing! They might be secret alien spies who planted the birth certificate so they can take over Mum’s cleaning company! If we aren’t going to go and find out, then what was the point in looking?’