Page 55 of The Family Remains

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know. Won’t he think it’s weird? And what would we even say?’

‘We’d just say: Have you heard of a guy called Henry Lamb? Do you know where he is?’

‘But why would we be asking for Henry? We’d need to have a reason.’

‘Erm. Sick relative? Maybe? His dad’s really ill or something?’

‘But why wouldn’t we just call him?’

‘Not answering his phone? Then we say it’s an emergency. His dad’s got like days left to live.’

‘We don’t even know if Henry’s met this guy.’

‘No. We don’t. But it’s the last thing in his Google history. So it could be important.’

Marco sighs. ‘OK then. But you do it.’

Alf groans and scrapes the last chunk of omelette on to his fork, pushes it into his mouth, washing it down with some Coke. Then he belches and clears his throat before making the call.

‘Voicemail,’ he whispers with his hand over the mic. ‘Oh, yeah, hi. I’m trying to track a man called Henry Lamb. He’s British. He’s in Chicago. His father is very ill – dying, actually. He needs to come home but he’s not answering his phone. We found your website on his browsing history. Did you happen to meet him? Please call me. I’m—’ He flails his hands at Marco. Marco shrugs. ‘I’m Phin.’

‘What!’ mouths Marco. ‘What the fuck!’

‘Sorry. Not Phin. Mike. I’m Mike.’ Alf shrugs, helplessly. ‘Call me on this number please. Thank you. Sorry.’

‘Fucking hell, Alf.’

‘Fuck. God. I’m sorry OK. I just—’

‘Whatever. It’s fine. He won’t know who Phin is.’ He leans towards the screen again and says, ‘What’s next?’

Alf clicks on the next search term. ‘Here we have a search for a shop called Organic Delightful. And look, there it is on a map.So, yeah. I reckon he must be staying somewhere near this place. We’re closing in, Marco. We are closing in.’

The last hotel in Henry’s search history is called the Dayville. ‘Call them,’ Marco urges.

Alf groans again but dials up the number and says, ‘I’m looking for a guest called Henry Lamb. Do you know if he’s staying there?’

‘Hold the line, sir.’

‘Sir.’ Marco stifles a laugh.

‘I’m afraid we don’t have a guest of that name staying here, sir.’

‘Oh. OK. Never mind. He’s British. Do you have a British man there?’

‘We have lots of British men here, sir.’

‘OK. Well. Thanks anyway.’

‘You are welcome, sir. Have a great day.’

Marco and Alf look at each other. They’ve gone as far as they can go. They need to wait for the man with the big bike to call them back.

He calls an hour later as they’re halfway through a game of FIFA and one of Henry’s expensive chocolate bars.

‘Hi,’ he says, ‘this is Kris Doll. Is this Mike?’