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to curl up and ignore the flying fag butts from next door. He turned back to Lori. ‘I can see you’re exhausted. All this worry is bad for you.’

She shook her head. ‘Oh, Mr Swift, that’s not all of it. I found something else and it baffled me. There was a note signed by Afan in another of Caris’s pockets — this one was in the old trousers she wears to Tir Melys. I read it, put it back, and left the trousers in her laundry bin. I didn’t want her to know I’d seen it. I popped into her room again just before you arrived. The trousers are still there, but no note.’

‘Can you remember what it said?’

‘It wasn’t a long note. He said he was disappointed, and this wasn’t what he’d expected when he’d offered help. He said they needed to meet and sort out the situation. He hoped that the arrangement could continue, but he was doubtful. Something along those lines. I do remember one bit where he said, “It’s not how friends behave towards each other.” That upset me, because it was sort of sad, and I wondered what Caris could have done to make him write that, especially when she spoke so fondly of him.’

Swift was wondering too. ‘Was the note dated?’

‘No.’

‘When is Caris due back?’

‘Sunday lunchtime. She said she’ll make me dinner and then she wants to go to the harp concert at Tir Melys. She enjoys those. She’s going with Gwyn, her friend who runs the bookshop. Will you try and find out what’s going on?’

‘I’ll try, but I don’t want your money and you need to ask Caris yourself. Have an honest conversation with her when she gets back and tell her that you found the shopping list and the note. There’s no other solution, really. In the meantime, if I hear anything that might throw some light on the situation, I’ll contact you. Does that help?’

‘Yes, I suppose it makes sense. Otherwise I’ll just be worrying myself sick.’

‘Is it okay if I keep this receipt?’

‘It’s not doing me any good, love.’

‘One last thing, have you got a photo of Caris, or even better, one of Caris with Morgan that I can have?’

She got up slowly and shuffled out of the room. There was a crash from next door, hoots of laughter and the party struck up ‘Delilah’.

Lori came back with a small photo in a light Perspex frame. ‘Here. I took that of both of them out in the yard last year.’ She sank down and swayed in her chair, tapping the fingers of one hand on her knee and moving the other in time with the music. ‘You can’t beat Tom Jones for a belting song. My mam went to school with his sister.’

‘Can I do anything for you before I go?’

‘No, you’ve been ever so kind, coming here and listening to me going on. And on a Friday night. I’m sure you’ve better things to do.’

He pictured supper chez Kat. ‘Nothing better, believe me.’

She smiled faintly. ‘I’ve forgotten my manners too, what with my stupid worrying. I’m very sorry about Mr Griffith. From what Caris told me, he sounded such a nice man. It’s hard, losing friends.’

‘Thank you. I’ll see myself out.’

‘I’ll stay up for a while, listen to the music and sing along in my head. Not much point trying to sleep, is there?’

Swift smiled. ‘Not unless you’ve got earplugs.’

He sat in the car and checked trains to Cardiff the next morning. He debated whether to call or text Sofia. It was gone nine and he didn’t like to disturb her. It could wait. He hoped that she was at home with her feet up, getting some rest. He could contact her from the train tomorrow.

He drove back to Tir Melys past fields of sheep. They were blurred, ghostly shapes in the dark. He’d moved Afan’s keys, tucking them behind a stack of tins at the back of the dresser. Maybe they unlocked a secret in Cardiff.

Chapter 14

The train to Cardiff was packed, standing room only by the time it left Holybridge. Swift’s carriage contained a group of about thirty excited girls, all teenagers who’d swarmed from the valleys, heading for the weekend delights of the capital. Swift just managed to get a seat and was jammed in next to an odoriferous toilet with the door hanging open and paper strewn on the floor. He sat, overwhelmed by cheap scent, wishing that he’d chosen to drive. It was a warm, sunny day and the girls yelled and laughed, tottering up and down the carriage on strappy sandals and spiky heels. They flicked their long hair, flirted with three boys who sat in a nervous huddle, and swapped cola, chewing gum and lipstick. They were all dressed in skimpy outfits that revealed acres of glowing skin. Swift listened to their carefree chatter, feeling ancient.

‘I never told him that, that’s a lie an’ he’s no right sayin’ it!’

‘I don’t like this colour, Daisy, haven’t you got somethin’ else?’

‘My dad said I’ve got to be back by midnight. I said why, d’you reckon I’m gonna turn into a pumpkin?’

‘I’m dyin’ to see this virtual reality place! I’m gonna go in the horror movie mansion.’

‘I’m ’avin’ a great big burger as soon as we get there, I don’t care if it gives me a fat belly!’

He’d never been a light-hearted teenager. He’d gone straight from relief at not developing spots, like most of his school friends, to shouldering grief. His mother had died when he was fifteen, and her illness and loss had cast a shadow that he’d tried to ease by rowing his boat on the Thames. From what he’d seen and heard, he couldn’t imagine that Caris had ever been like one of these happy-go-lucky girls. She’d spent her