Part 19 (1/2)

'Nothing wrong with that, Mrs Wharton.'

'No, no. Of course not, Well, Eliot is the clever one, anyway. He's in the sixth form at Lady Manners in Bakewell.'

'I wonder if we could speak to them?'

'They're not here.'

'Pity.'

Just then, they both heard a key turn in the front door, and a male voice calling through the house.

'Mum?'

Eliot Wharton was a tall young man, with short fair hair, flushed cheeks and large hands that dangled by his sides. Cooper wondered if he was a rugby player.

He looked at his mother, and then at Cooper and Murfin with the beginnings of hostility.

'Who's this?' he said.

'The police, love.'

'Oh. Again.'

'Is Kirsten with you?' asked Nancy.

'Yes, I'm here,' said Kirsten from the hall.

Cooper realised that there was hardly any room for anyone else in the lounge since Eliot had entered. They seemed to be uncomfortably close together, too close for anyone who might have problems over their personal s.p.a.ce.

Nancy explained to her children what Cooper was asking. They both began shaking their heads simultaneously.

'That night, the night before the people went missing,' said Eliot. 'They were in the pub then, weren't they? The police asked us questions. But other than that ...'

Cooper turned to Eliot's sister. 'Kirsten?

She shrugged. 'How would I know? I wasn't even old enough to be in the bar, was I?'

He wasn't sure about that. Too young to drink alcohol, or serve it to customers, yes. But not too young to be in the bar. Children under sixteen could go anywhere in a pub as long as they were supervised by an adult.

'I know your husband is very ill,' said Cooper. 'And there's nothing I can say that will help.'

'Maurice has good days and bad days,' said Nancy. 'Of course the bad days can be very bad indeed. The drugs control the pain, but they have a lot of side effects.'

'I understand.'

She studied Cooper closely for a few moments, pursing her lips and frowning, as if trying to make a difficult decision.

'Your colleague who came here asked if she could talk to Maurice,' she said at last.

'I'm sure she did, but if it's impossible ...'

'I could ask him, if you like,' said Nancy. 'He might like to see someone who knew the Light House. It would only be for a few minutes. He gets terribly tired.'

Cooper realised that he must have achieved some kind of honorary status as a pub regular. He wasn't sure what he'd done to earn that honour, whether it was his own infrequent visits to the Light House, his presence at the YFC booze-up with Matt, or maybe even the fact that he'd chosen Gavin Murfin to accompany him to the Whartons'.

Whichever it was, he felt grateful for the results.

'That would be very kind of you,' he said.

'I'll see.'

He looked round, and saw both Eliot and Kirsten watching disapprovingly. He wondered if there would be a family argument after he'd gone. They clearly didn't trust him the way their mother had decided to.

'The Light House was a good pub,' said Cooper. 'I remember when I was a teenager, the beer there was a revelation.'

'Greene King,' said Murfin.

Cooper looked at Eliot Wharton for confirmation, forgetting the young man's age because of the size and maturity of him.

'Eliot doesn't drink,' said Nancy.

'Because you're not old enough?' he asked in surprise.

'No, I'm just not interested,' said Eliot.

'It must have been tough growing up in a pub, then. Or perhaps that's why you don't drink?'

Eliot shrugged. 'I can do without it. I see plenty of people who drink a lot making idiots of themselves all the time. What's the point of it?'

Then Cooper remembered what Niall Maclennan had told him, and realised that this young man would have seen his own father deteriorating through alcohol consumption. It was a bit too close to home when it was within the family. He decided it was probably best not to ask any more questions on the subject.

'Still, you must all have found it very difficult moving from the Light House,' he said, as he got ready to leave.

Mrs Wharton winced, as if at a sudden pain. 'It was awful. We knew we'd never be able to find anywhere else that would suit us. And this is where we ended up. Look at it. I know the town isn't so bad, but this estate ...'

'Not so bad?' said Eliot, a sudden anger in his voice. 'I never wanted to live in Edendale. It's a place where people come to die.'

Cooper looked up sharply at the expression. He'd heard it often before. He knew it as a reference to the number of retired people who moved into the area when they wanted a bit of peace and quiet in their declining years. But said out loud, it sounded odd, as if Eliot was referring to something else entirely.

Before he left the Whartons, Cooper paused in the doorway and turned.

'I was in the pub earlier that week, Mrs Wharton,' he said. 'The night the Young Farmers' party was held.'

'Oh, I know you were,' said Nancy. 'I remember you very well. I almost had to get Maurice to throw you out. You were, well ... how should I put it?'

He held up a hand. 'Yes, I know. I'm sorry.'