‘Your mum must have missed you,’ she said, with a sideways look.
‘My mum? Are you kidding? I don’t think she noticed I was gone until I rang her up to ask her to send on some books.’
‘Is she still …?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You don’t know what I was going to ask!’
‘Well, she’s still a tree-hugging hippy, if that was it.’
‘No, it wasn’t. I was going to ask if she still had that cleaning job up at the Hall.’
I stopped, picked up a china dog and examined it minutely, catching a breath.
‘No, no, she quit that years ago. She’s got a stall in Tylney market now. Crystals, tarot cards, all that kind of thing.’
‘Oh, right. Doesn’t she live in Willingham any more?’
‘No, no. She moved about a year after I went to uni. Why?’
‘Well, you’re a journalist, aren’t you?’ Jamila looked painfully furtive. She was never good at discretion.
‘Yes.’
‘You might know something about what’s going on up there … maybe?’
I put the china dog down. My hands were shaking.
‘At … the Hall?’
‘Dad says it’s been leased to somebody. A very rich person, maybe a famous person. And it’s being used for –’ she lowered her voice to a whisper, ‘– something dodgy.’
‘Dodgy? What sort of dodgy?’
‘You don’t know?’ Disappointment weighted her voice.
‘Give me a chance, Jam, I’ve only been back three weeks.’
‘Dad doesn’t know for sure, of course. But he’s heard so many rumours. Drugs, sex, porn, prostitution, all kinds!’
‘What? Are the family still living there?’
‘You knew Lord Lethbridge died last year, right?’
‘No. Shit. No. I had no idea.’
‘Well …’
The tannoy blasted into life, announcing the prize draw.
I cursed under my breath.
‘Sorry, Jam, got to cover this. Are you free for coffee afterwards?’
She shook her head, her dark eyes sad.
‘No, I’ve got house-hunting appointments with Akram. Really sorry. Can we catch up another time?’