The Lost Man(53)

‘Does Xander?’

The question hung in the air.

‘Did you want something else, Harry?’ Nathan said at last, his voice cold.

Harry gazed back, unmoved, until Nathan was the one to look away. ‘Generator’s going off in ten.’

He disappeared from the doorway and Nathan stared at the computer screen until the glow made his eyes water. He blinked, then checked the time again. Progress had been slow, but he’d seen enough to know that there wasn’t much to be found of the backpackers online.

That wasn’t unheard of. But it was unusual. Nathan could count on one hand the number of backpackers he’d known to resist the temptation to upload a string of identical photos of rocks and sky and cows for the folks back home. He looked at the clock once more, then, as fast as the computer would allow, opened a fresh search window and typed in a new name. There were a lot of results for Jenna Moores in the UK. He might have been sifting through them for hours if someone hadn’t already beaten him to it.

A link came up right at the top, the different-coloured font showing it had already been clicked on at least once before on that computer. Nathan had no idea if it was possible to find out when. Maybe Xander would know. For now, he clicked on the link again.

She had become a florist. She ran her own business and there was a photo of her planting something tall and green into a pot. The braid was gone and the twenty-odd years were visible on her face, but it was her.

Her photographic smile was wide but slightly stilted and Nathan got the impression several attempts had been made to get the shot right. Jenna’s fingers were partly buried in soil, but he could see no wedding ring. He wondered what Jenna’s boyfriend from the time was up to these days but he couldn’t remember the guy’s name. He wasn’t sure he’d ever known it. He looked at Jenna’s face. There was a phone number at the top of the screen. Nathan reached for a pen, wrote it down and stood up.

The hallway was empty and the kitchen and Ilse’s office were both dark as he picked up the phone and dialled. He listened to the ringtone, and was just realising he had no idea what time it was in England, when someone answered.

‘Good morning, Northern Blooms.’ The voice was chirpy.

‘Is Jenna Moore there, please?’

‘She’s on leave, I’m afraid. Can I help you with something?’

Nathan hesitated. ‘She was trying to get in touch with my brother.’ He waited, but there was no discernible reaction down the line. ‘I wanted to pass on some information. Does she have another number I can try?’

‘Oh. No, I’m sorry.’ The girl sounded genuinely apologetic. ‘Not one I can give out, unfortunately. But it wouldn’t be much help anyway, she’s abroad and out of mobile range.’

Nathan looked at the landline cord in his hand. ‘Really.’

‘I can take your number if you like.’

‘I’m actually out of mobile range myself, as a matter of fact.’

‘Are you?’ The girl sounded amused by the novelty. ‘I don’t suppose you’re on a yoga retreat in Bali, by any chance?’

‘No,’ Nathan said. ‘No, I’m not.’

‘I suppose that would be too much of a coincidence.’ She laughed. In his other ear, Nathan heard a soft electronic whump and he was plunged into darkness. The generator was off. The vanished light from the hall left a ghostly glow in his eyes. He blinked, temporarily blind.

‘Where are you based?’ he said, as the grey outlines of furniture slowly started to take shape.

‘At the end of Bell Street.’

‘Sorry, I meant which city?’

‘Oh. Manchester.’

Nathan wasn’t sure where that was. Somewhere northern, he guessed.

‘Anyway,’ the voice was saying, ‘she’ll be back in the store in – bear with me – eleven days, if you’d like to try her again?’

It was then that Nathan heard the noise. Not on the phone. Something at his end, faint in the night’s stillness. Harry, maybe? The window beside him was a black square. He could see nothing but his own reflection in the glass.

‘Jenna’s definitely still in Bali?’ he said. He heard the noise again and looked over his shoulder. Had it come from inside the house? He held his breath. Another soft thud. No, it was outside. He turned back to the window. Still nothing.

‘Yes. Not looking forward to coming back to the freezing weather. She says it’s almost too hot, if you can imagine.’

‘Is that right?’ Nathan looked out into the inky darkness. ‘Well, thanks for your help.’

‘You’re welcome. And thank you for your interest in Northern Blooms!’

Nathan hung up. Outside the yard was black. There was no movement at all. He waited a minute, then two. Nothing. He was about to turn away when he heard the noise again.





Chapter 19



Nathan stepped into the dark and waited for his eyes to adjust to the sliver of moonlight. The back door creaked behind him and he pulled it shut. He stood patiently and listened.

A muffled thump.

He followed the noise around the side of the house. A glow seeped out from under the garage door, soft, but enough to ruin his night vision. He walked over slowly, telling himself not to be ridiculous while still treading quietly. He recognised the back of the head immediately. It was half-in, half-out of a low cupboard, the shadows stark under a battery-powered hurricane lamp.