The Family Remains(99)

Libby orders in a stack of super-sized pizzas and they eat them in the garden with the champagne while Stella jumps up and down on the trampoline with the dog. The past couple of months have been stressful in so many ways. The story about Justin’s suicide and the dead pop star and the starving children locked in the Chelsea mansion had gone, somewhat predictably, viral. The papers couldn’t get enough of it for a few days. The story was accompanied by numerous pictures of Birdie, of the house, of Lucy leaving Henry’s apartment with the dog, of Libby and Miller leaving her house in St Albans, of Martina and Henry Senior when they were newlywed, of the Harrods crib with the blue painted flowers on it that Libby had been found in as a baby, of the camper van that Justin had been living in, of the pub where he was a regular.

There was even a photo doing the rounds of a young man called Jason Mott, a mud-larking guide on the Thames who had been the one to find the bones. He had a thick mop of strawberry-blond hair and a padded gilet with many pockets over a sleeveless vest. He said, ‘I’ve found some strange things over the many years I’ve been sifting through these mudbanks and shingle shores, everything from false teeth and golf balls to Roman coins and jewellery, but finding this bag of bones was the most shocking discovery of my career. Now a man is dead and I’m wishing I’d thrown them straight back in the river. If I had my time again I would.’

But the glare of the story is starting to fade now. The press has moved on; the public has moved on. Lucy has her house. Henry has his home back. They have been issued their original birth certificates and have reclaimed their given names – the deeds to this house are written out to Lucy Amanda Lamb – and now they are both free from the shadows that have followed them all their adult lives. Neither of them is hiding any longer. The house on Cheyne Walk is finally excised from their psyches. Their lives have begun again.

But there is still one missing piece and as the day spills over from early to late afternoon Lucy’s eyes keep going to the time on her phone and the driveway beyond the kitchen window and with every passing moment she becomes increasingly distracted, losing focus on the conversation wheeling around her.

But finally, at nearly five o’clock, there is a crunch of tyres on gravel and the doorbell rings.

‘Libby, can you get that for me?’ she calls out to her oldest child.

Lucy stands at the edge of the hallway and watches as Libby opens the door to a tall man with dirty blond hair, a scraggy beard and a shy smile.

Lucy’s heart lifts at the sight of him and she takes a few steps towards the door, but still keeps out of sight. There’s the sound of footsteps behind her and she sees Henry drawing close. She puts a finger to her lips, and he nods and stands behind her.

‘Hi?’ says Libby, a question in her voice.

‘Hello,’ says the man. ‘Are you Libby?’

‘Yes,’ she replies. ‘Are you—?’

‘I’m Phin.’

‘Oh.’ A tiny breathless syllable. ‘Wow.’

Lucy and Henry exchange a look. She feels Henry’s hand gently squeezing her shoulder and she takes it in hers.

‘I’m assuming that nobody told you …?’ says Phin.

Libby shakes her head. ‘No,’ she says. ‘Nobody told me.’

‘So this is a bit of a shock?’

‘Yes, it’s a bit of a shock.’ Libby laughs. ‘Do you – do you want to come in?’

‘Thank you,’ says Phin. ‘I’d love to come in.’

Lucy and Henry pull back a bit as Libby leads Phin down the hallway towards the kitchen. ‘I was supposed to be here two hours ago,’ says Phin. ‘I’ve been down in Cornwall, with my mother and my sister. The traffic was horrific. I hope I haven’t ruined the day?’

‘No,’ Lucy hears Libby reply brightly. ‘No, not at all. We’ve had a lovely day. And now …’

Lucy holds her breath hard inside her chest.

‘Now it just got even better.’ There’s a short pause. ‘Anyway. What can I get you? Wine? Beer? Cold manky pizza?’

There’s a peel of combined laughter then. The laughter of her daughter and her daughter’s father on a Friday afternoon in Lucy’s home.

Lucy turns to Henry and smiles. She mouths the words thank you.

Then she takes Henry’s hand and together they walk towards the kitchen, their family finally complete.





69




Two months earlier


Phin pulls the bolt back on the door of his flat. It’s late and he’s really not in the mood for making small talk with someone called Jeff. The flat is a mess, and he doesn’t really want to show it to him. He sighs heavily and says, ‘Hold on.’

Then suddenly there is a foot inside his door and a tall man pushes him bodily into the hallway. The man has dyed blond hair and wild eyes. His breath smells of old wine and old food. His pale eyes are manic.

‘What the fuck?’ says Phin. ‘Dude. What the fuck?’

The man turns and slides the bolt across, and Phin tries to get around him to unlock it. ‘Seriously, dude. Get the fuck out of here.’

His heart scrambles in his chest. He’d had a weird feeling about the note from ‘Jeff’ he’d found pinioned under his door knocker earlier. There’d been something unsettling about it and he’d felt slightly unsafe ever since and now he thinks he might well be about to die.