“Certainly won’t help Lesley Vickers,” replied his father.
“I know how she feels. So do you, come to that. I know they’re a big family, but I doubt it will help. There’s just more of them to miss David.”
“Have you any leads?” asked Malcolm, sipping his coffee.
“Not so far. You know what infuriates me? We’ve had three missing children. One now dead, and no one has seen anything.”
“I don’t think people pay any attention anymore, son. Life is lived at a pace that doesn’t give you time to stop and think. They’re all flying around in their own little world.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Your job’s no different, Stewart. All credit to you for being dedicated, but it’s not healthy.”
“I’m trying to secure a good life for us all, and it’s getting harder. God knows what’s happening to the economy. Nothing ever gets any cheaper. I sometimes think we’ll all end up working every waking hour just to keep our heads above water.
“Listen, I want to thank you for all the help you’ve been. Especially with Chris. I’d hate to think what kind of a mess he or I’d be in now without you.”
“You’ve no need to thank me, son. I love being around him, and I appreciate having a roof over my head. It means I can have quality time with you both.”
“You’ve been a tonic for both of us. I think it’s you that’s kept us all together. I realize how much I’m taking you for granted. You’re always there for Chris after school. You cook his meals, clean the house. You go out with him more than I do. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I have, and I’m eternally grateful.”
Gardener paused before changing the subject again. “You said I ought to get out more. What about you? The relationship with us must have its drawbacks. The only interest you seem to have is the gardening club once a week.”
Gardener sensed his father’s hesitation before answering. “Stewart, I’m happy with my life. When your mum died, I didn’t know how I was going to cope. My whole world was just one big void. I was hollow on the inside. I felt as if someone had ripped my guts out and poured ice-cold water through my veins. Despite all that, you were there for me. Looking after you was the best therapy I could have had. And though it may not seem like it to you, it was what kept me going.
“After Sarah died, I knew it was going to be tough. I wanted to use my experience to help you. I appreciate everything I’m getting out of it. I’m spending time with my son, and my grandson. It doesn’t feel like a chore. You certainly don’t have to apologize for anything.”
A lump formed in Gardener’s throat. “I just want you to know I appreciate it, Dad.”
“I know you do. We’re a family, and families help each other.”
A break in the conversation allowed Gardener to return to the subject of his father’s club.
“So, about this club. You can’t be learning much. After a lifetime in the business, you must know everything there is to know about plants.”
“It isn’t the plants so much as the company.”
“Really?” Was that a glint in his father’s eye he’d noticed? “Anyone in particular?”
“No, not at all.”
Gardener was onto something. His father’s reply was too quick and guarded. “Oh, come on. What do you take me for? I’m a detective. You think I haven’t noticed a smarter appearance than usual of late? The new aftershaves? The fact that you’ve been coming home progressively later?”
Malcolm’s wide grin led to a defensive chuckle. “You’re too bloody sharp for your own good.”
Gardener was about to speak when Chris came stomping down the stairs and into the kitchen, dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, and trainers.
“You okay, Chris?” he asked, tentatively.
His son volunteered a cursory grunt while helping himself to some cereal.
Malcolm rose from the table. “I think I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll be in the potting shed if you want me.”
Chris sat opposite Gardener and proceeded to destroy his Weetabix, banging the spoon into the dish, sighing heavily.
“Something bothering you, Chris?”
“What makes you think that?”