My Name is Eva(47)

Evelyn shakes her head. No, it isn’t hers, but she knows whose it is. She had truly forgotten that this scrap of evidence, this proof that he had visited Kingsley Manor, ever existed. How could she have forgotten? Without even trying she can see him sitting at the kitchen table, reports spread out in front of him, pen poised, his greedy mind identifying her choicest valuables, adding up their combined value. He had almost salivated at the prospect of enjoying some of her wealth.

‘Auntie, are you feeling all right? You’re awfully pale.’ Pat puts a hand on her aunt’s shoulder. ‘Should I fetch someone?’

‘No, dear. I’m all right. Just a little tired today, I think.’ Evelyn stares again at the tidy handwriting, precise and neat, just like him. If the police saw this and compared it to any documents they might have collected from his flat, they could link it to him and then how could she explain? But how likely is it that they would still have any evidence from there? He disappeared so many years ago and the case should have been closed and forgotten.

She points to the brochure and the scrawl, then says, ‘I think it must have been the man from the auction house, dear. I seem to remember he came over to Kingsley in person and explained to me how they calculate these figures. I didn’t take him up on it, of course. I didn’t want to sell anything at that time, I just did it for insurance purposes.’

‘Well, I’m jolly glad you did have him over. It’s been most helpful. But I’m having trouble finding everything that’s listed here. Like this, for instance, Majolica Palissy ware. Sea creatures and seaweed, it says. I’m not sure what they look like and I can’t seem to find anything that fits that description.’

‘Let me see.’ Evelyn pretends to think. She knows exactly what happened: she sold the ugly plates at a country auction and the handsome profit paid for an airfare to Frankfurt. Just one last visit, before it was too late, for old times’ sake. She had driven out to the village and found the little house with its fence, its hedge and its fruit trees, looking much the same as they had all those years ago. There was no one there and even if there had been, how would she have recognised her?

‘They may have got broken,’ she says. ‘Those grotesque platters, with all those curling hideous creatures, were terrible dust traps. We only took them off the wall once a year for a good wash. But Sharon always had a lot of trouble trying to clean them properly. Yes, I think that’s what happened.’

‘Well, it’s a pity. They were worth a few bob and it all adds up, you know. Every little bit helps to keep you in comfort here in this lovely home.’

‘It’s not home,’ Evelyn says. ‘It’s very nice, but it’s not like home.’ She decides it is time for a little drama and grasps her niece’s wrist. ‘I want to go home, Pat. Are you taking me home today?’

‘No, Aunt. Not today. You’re staying here, it’s much better for you. And safer.’

‘But I don’t want to stay here, I want to go home, I want to go back to Kingsley. If you won’t take me there, I’ll call for a taxi. I’d drive myself, but I can’t seem to remember where I parked the car.’

‘Auntie, you haven’t driven in ages. You sold the car years ago. Don’t you remember?’ Pat is looking round for a member of staff. When Evelyn behaves like this, she usually makes a swift departure.

‘I didn’t say you could sell my car. How could you?’

‘You sold it yourself, Auntie. You decided it wasn’t safe for you to be driving any more. I think you did it straight after one of your accidents. You drove through a red light, remember?’

‘Well, I’ve changed my mind. I want my car back again now. I’d find it very useful for getting to the shops.’

‘You don’t need to get to the shops, Aunt. Everything you need is here.’

‘How do you know what I need? I shall go to Waitrose and get my shopping myself.’

‘That happens on Thursdays, doesn’t it? A group of you go shopping? And if you need anything urgently, you know I can get it for you or one of the staff will pick it up for you when they go out.’

Evelyn adopts a calmer tone of voice. ‘Talcum powder. I need talcum powder.’

‘Again, already? I’m sure I brought some in for you only a couple of weeks ago.’

Yes, you did, but you don’t know how useful that powder is and how much I use every day. ‘For my feet,’ she says. ‘The nurses say I have to have it for my feet.’

‘Oh, very well then. I’m going into Sainsbury’s on my way home. I’ll get some there and bring it in next time for you.’

‘Thank you, dear. Make sure it’s Coty, won’t you? I do like powder with a nice scent.’

‘Yes, all right, I’ll get you Coty. Anything else while I’m at it?’

‘Sherry,’ says Evelyn, looking bright and mischievous. ‘I’d like a bottle of sherry to keep in my room. Then when I have a visitor sometimes, I can offer them a nice glass of sherry.’

Pat sighs as she gets up from her chair. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting more sherry glasses next.’

‘That’s a very good idea. I wasn’t going to mention it, but now I think of it, we had some very nice ones at Kingsley. I think there was a set with twisted stems.’ She makes a spiralling gesture with her index finger. ‘Could you bring those in with you as well next time, dear?’