Page 3 of The Quarterlands (Dark Water #4)

“I see.” Noah gazed at his hands again. “I really do, but I don’t think this can be mended. There’s too much water under this particular bridge.”

“Then don’t come.” Josiah stood abruptly.

“I understand that the two of you have hurt each other very much and there may need to be some robust conversations, but don’t come unless you’re prepared to forgive him.

Alex needs a father, not a fight. Here are my details.

” He threw a nanocard on the coffee table. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

He strode to the door, feeling annoyed with both these pitiful men, locked up with each other amid the faded splendour of a life long since lost. Despite Alex’s many tribulations, at least he hadn’t become threadbare and diminished.

He was still vivid , a sharp contrast to their worn-out gentility and obsession with old grudges and glories.

Pausing by the front door, he heard Charles coming up behind him, panting slightly at the effort.

“Thank you for coming and telling us all this, and thank you for giving us the opportunity to see Alex again,” Charles said. “I’ll come, of course – if Alex wants to see me. I mean, if he only wants to see Dad, that’s fine.”

“Why wouldn’t he want to see you?” Josiah asked.

“In case he thinks I let him down.” Charles’s ruddy skin flushed a deeper shade of red. “I promised him I’d save the money to buy his contract, but I didn’t.”

“I see.” Josiah gazed at him thoughtfully. “I’m sure Alex would like to see you, too,” he said at last. “You’re his brother.” He might not warm to Charles, but Alex had never wavered in his love for him.

He remembered something. “One thing, Charles. Alex spoke of keeping his mother’s scarf – he found it comforting. Could you bring it when you come? Or something else of hers if it can’t be found?”

“Of course!” Charles brightened, looking pleased to be of some use.

“Good. Call me and let me know when,” he said curtly, and then he left.

It was a relief to be out in the crisp, fresh air. There was something stifling about that place, a sense of being smothered by the weight of the past. He took a few deep breaths and climbed into his duck, glad to put The Orchard behind him.

As he drove home, he mulled over the meeting in his head.

This hadn’t been official business but he could never turn off his internal investigator.

Something about that encounter had been off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what.

An inappropriate reaction? An insincere expression?

Something misspoken? Whatever it was, he had the sense that he was missing a piece of a puzzle, and he usually only felt that way when digging into a case.

Had something back there been material to Dacre’s murder, or was it something else?

He turned it over and over in his head but couldn’t put his finger on it.

He put in a call to Esther. “Dacre’s case,” he said tersely. “I want to keep it open. I don’t think we’ve solved it yet.”

“You don’t think it was Neil, then?” She sounded surprised.

“No.” He didn’t know why he was so sure, just that he was.

“Do you have any new evidence?”

“No, but I’ll find it,” he said firmly, ending the call. He turned off his nym immediately so she couldn’t call back. He didn’t want to answer any questions on the subject because he couldn’t explain it. He just knew he was missing something, but he didn’t know what.

He stopped off at the local shops and bought some chocolate, then returned home, trying to shake the unsettled feeling. Alex was up but lying on the sofa in the living room with the screen on, staring into space, as usual.

“Hey.” Josiah dropped a kiss on his head. They might have agreed to take a step back from their relationship, but he still wanted Alex to feel loved.

Alex wrenched his gaze away from the fascinating spot on the wall and glanced at him. “Oh. You’re back.” He didn’t look remotely interested.

“Yeah. I got you some chocolate.” He was desperately trying to stuff calories into Alex, but it wasn’t working. He ate like a bird and the weight had fallen off him. He handed Alex the bar and then went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

A thought occurred to him, and he brought up Charles’s Olympic race on his holopad.

What a different world it had been for the Lytton family back then.

Charles, boyishly handsome, full of youthful vigour, smiling cheerily from his boat as he waited for the race to start.

A cut to the stands, where his family were watching, tense but excited. Alex looked so young.

Their hologram images filled the room, making Josiah’s heart break, for within a few weeks, this entire family would be shattered.

He paused the footage and gazed at Isobel, hovering in the air in front of him.

She was a beautiful woman indeed. Josiah didn’t judge her; he had no idea what her life had been, or the secrets that had caused her to make the choices she had.

He resumed the race and watched as Charles strained every muscle and sinew as he rowed.

He could almost feel the nation cheering him on, their first serious gold medal hope in thirty years.

How exciting it must have been to be there, watching.

Even knowing the outcome, he held his breath as Charles fell behind and then, from nowhere, summoned an explosive burst of energy right at the end that allowed him to win the race by a whisker.

He was interrupted by the doorbell. Pausing the holovid, he opened the front door to find Charles standing there.

“Sorry – I tried calling but your nym is offline,” Charles explained apologetically. “Dad’s in the duck. He wants to know if it’s okay if we come in and see Alex?”

“Of course!” Glancing at the duck parked on the driveway, he saw Noah peering out anxiously. Josiah waved him in, and he climbed out of the vehicle and limped up the driveway, leaning on his stick.

Josiah offered him his arm as he came into the house and Noah took it gratefully, leaning on him while Charles shuffled in behind them.

“Thank you. I’m sorry to just turn up like this, but I knew the minute you left that I’d been a fool and I couldn’t wait,” Noah babbled. “Where is he?”

“In here.” Josiah pushed open the living room door. He’d had no time to prepare Alex, so he hoped he’d done the right thing. “You have a visitor, Alex.” He deliberately blocked the doorway so Charles couldn’t follow his father into the room.

Alex turned his head lethargically, barely bothering to look up. Noah began walking as fast as he could across the room towards him.

“Dad?” It was barely more than a disbelieving whisper, but it was Noah’s reaction that took Josiah by surprise. He looked down on Alex, with his bruised face, his arm in a cast, his thin body, and his pale, pinched expression, and he practically ran the rest of the way to the sofa.

“Alex! My son. My poor, darling child.” Sitting down on the sofa, he wrapped his arms around his son, his hands trembling. “Alex… what ha ve they done to you? What have we all done to you? My boy, my poor boy. Dad’s here now… shh… I’m here, I’m here…”

“Dad? Daddy?” Alex clung to him, and the dam finally broke. He sobbed into his father’s shoulder, letting out years of pain and suffering, crying incoherently.

Noah held him tight and rocked him back and forth all the while as if he was a small child, soothing him, whispering that his father was here and telling him that he was loved, so very loved, and he’d never let him down again.

Josiah swallowed the lump in his throat and took a step back, forcing Charles into the hallway. He closed the door to give Alex and Noah some privacy.

“You can see Alex later. Let’s go into the kitchen and have some tea,” he suggested. “Funnily enough, I was just watching your Olympic gold medal victory.”

Charles’s face lit up like a lost zone beacon. “Oh! How lovely. I haven’t seen it in ages.”

“Then let’s go and watch it together. You can give me some behind-the-scenes commentary.”

Charles was lively and enthusiastic as he talked Josiah through the race.

This was his passion, the subject that interested him the most. As he spoke, Josiah felt a grudging respect for him.

You didn’t get to be the best at your elite sport without having a certain amount of grit and determination, so behind Charles’s affable smile was surely someone of substance.

“Did you never find a special someone to share your life with?” he asked curiously, unable to turn off the investigator in him.

“There were women.” Charles grinned. “Still are. But I’ve never felt the need to propose.”

“You were very close to your mum. I suppose it’s hard to find someone to measure up to such a remarkable woman,” Josiah observed.

“Well, quite,” Charles said softly. Then he leaned forward.

“Look, I know you don’t like me much, Mr Raine, and I understand why.

You despise me for not saving the money to put in a bid for Alex.

But you must understand that kind of money would have been far beyond me, even leaving aside the fact I wanted the operation.

I simply don’t make that much, even in a good year.

Alex’s contract is too expensive. I can barely keep The Orchard going for Dad – he refuses to move – let alone have enough money to buy the country’s most expensive IS. ”

“At least that’s honest.” Josiah gave a grudging nod. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

“Guilt. I knew it was too much for me, so I shouldn’t have made him that promise. I just felt so terrible for him on the day he was sentenced that I wanted to give him something to hang on to, an iota of hope, however false.”

“I can understand that,” Josiah grunted. He liked this Charles Lytton better than the charming fool. He glanced at his watch. “They’ve had an hour. Would you like to see him now?”

“Oh yes.” Charles beamed. “I love my brother very much, Mr Raine. I always have and I always will.”