Fragile Lives by Jane A. Adams Read Free Book Online Page B

that particular event. Be totally sure that he’s dead.’
    George nodded slowly, he hadn’t thought to put it that way but Mac had really hit the nail. ‘I just … Do you know who it is then? I suppose a lot of people drown round here, fall off fishing boats or something.’ He felt Mac’s hesitation. ‘What?’
    â€˜He didn’t drown,’ Mac said. ‘George, I can’t tell you much but there’s a chance this man might be linked to … to whatever your father was mixed up in.’
    George could feel Ursula’s gaze fixed upon him and wondered if he’d been right to ask her to stay, but he didn’t want to be alone with this, not anymore, and even when he’d been staying at Paul’s place, that’s exactly what he’d been. Paul had been unable or unwilling to either speak about or hear George speak about what they had been through. Rina had been good and so had Tim, but they weren’t here and once Mac went, George would be alone again. Selfishly, perhaps, he wanted Ursula to be ‘in’ on this even in a small way. He was tired of secrets and hiding and running away from the truth.
    â€˜How, mixed up?’
    Cheryl arrived with the tea. Mac thanked her and she hung around, clearly wanting to know what this policeman was doing here. Not official business or he’d have had to ask for a chaperone, so, what …?
    Mac, George realized, had anticipated this. ‘I brought these over for George,’ he said. ‘They belonged to Rina’s husband. She heard you telling Tim about wanting a pair.’ He handed the bag across the table to George.
    â€˜Oh.’ Cheryl was excited. ‘What is it?’
    George withdrew a leather case. ‘Wow.’ He opened it up and withdrew a pair of gunmetal-grey binoculars. They were clearly very old but the condition was pristine.
    â€˜Zeiss lenses,’ Ursula said.
    George blinked, she’d not said a word since Mac’s arrival. ‘Is that good?’
    â€˜Bloody fantastic,’ Ursula said. ‘They’re old. 1930s?’ She looked at Mac for confirmation.
    â€˜So Rina said. I believe Fred, Mr Martin, bought them when they went on tour. Somewhere in Belgium, she thinks, but they weren’t new then. She hopes you’ll make good use of them.’
    â€˜I will,’ George promised. ‘Cheryl, can I ring her later?’
    â€˜Of course you can, love. Make sure you lock them in your room, won’t you?’ She departed happily, curiosity satisfied and George looked more closely at his prize. ‘I saw a pair in the old town,’ he said. ‘But they were nothing like as good as these.’ Almost reverently he slid them back into their case.
    â€˜Are you interested in photography?’ Mac asked Ursula.
    She shrugged.
    â€˜I just wondered, as you recognized the lenses’
    â€˜My dad was,’ she said reluctantly. ‘He was into all that stuff.’
    Mac and George waited, but it was soon clear that she was about to volunteer nothing more, but it was, George thought, just about the first personal detail Ursula had let him have.
    He sighed. ‘So, this man. This body.’
    â€˜When you were with your dad, did he ever mention someone called Duggan? Jimmy Duggan?’
    George thought about it, shook his head. ‘He didn’t say much at all,’ he confessed. ‘He yelled a lot and wanted to know a lot about Karen and our mam but he never let much slip otherwise. Is that the dead man then?’
    â€˜No,’ Mac told him, ‘but we’re looking at a possible connection. George, I don’t have to tell you—’
    â€˜To keep me mouth shut? You know you don’t and Ursula won’t tell no one neither.’
    â€˜No,’ Mac said. ‘I’m sure she won’t.’
    That earned him a second brief, shy smile from Ursula.
    â€˜I don’t suppose …?’ George began