Page 20 of The Last Party

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“But I should be here to help out—”

“I’ll be just fine.” Elen had encouraged Ffion to spread her wings. “There’s a big world outside Cwm Coed,cariad.”

It wasn’t the lake that had brought Ffion back home; it was guilt. Guilt that Elen was home alone with a small child, guilt that Dad would have thought badly of Ffion for leaving. One day she had seen a job advert, and it was as though it were calling to her.

“I’m going to join the police,” she’d announced. Seren was seven by then, still small enough to squeeze on Ffion’s lap. She thought Ffion the coolest sister ever; Ffion found Seren endearing and exasperating in equal measure.

Mam was quiet. “Who’d have thought,” she said. “FfionWyllt, a police officer.”

“Is it a terrible idea, Mam?”

Elen smiled, clasping her hands around Ffion’s cheeks. “Your dad would have been proud of you.” They’d both cried then, and Seren had cried too, even though—or perhaps because—she had no memory of him.

The ping of a text message brings Ffion back to the moment, she and Leo reaching for their phones at the same time. “Yours,” she says, seeing her blank screen.

Leo stares at his phone. “I have to make a call.” He moves away and stands beneath the trees, and Ffion walks farther along the edge of the lake, giving Leo the illusion of privacy.

“But you said to call now—”

Ffion tries not to listen.

“Well, it’s only just come through. That’s hardly my fault!”

Ah, who’s she kidding? Ffion skims a stone and tries not to make it obvious.

“Can I speak to him? Please, Allie.” There’s a long silence. Ffion checks her emails and sends a quick update to DI Malik.

“Hey, little man!” Leo says. “How’s it going? Happy New Year!”

His tone is so different, it’s all Ffion can do to stop herself turning around and double-checking it’s the same guy. She falls into the spaces between Leo’s words—He did? And what did you do? No way!—and the past grips Ffion’s heart and squeezes it hard. She imagines being on the phone to her own dad, and she picks up another stone, a bigger one this time, and hurls it far into the water.

“You’ve got a kid,” Ffion says when Leo’s finished. She looks along the lakeside to where the resort squats in the break of the trees. A vast tent covers one of the decks, fairy lights crisscrossing the windows. “Harris,” she remembers.

“How did—oh, yeah, right.” Leo puts a hand to the back of his neck, the small tattoo now hidden beneath his collar. He stoops and picks up a stone, then throws it hard into the water, scattering the terns. Ffion lets it go. “He’s four. You got any?”

“God no.”

Leo glances at his watch. “The DI wants us in the office to brief him on the job, as soon as Yasmin confirms ID.”

“You can do that. I don’t do DIs.”

“I wasn’t aware they were optional.”

“They are when you cover two hundred square kilometers and your DI works two towns away.”

Leo opens his mouth to say something, then gives up, shaking his head. He points across the lake to a large single-story structure. “What’s that?” The building is surrounded by boats, some listing to the side, others sitting in huge cradles, their hulls naked and exposed.

“The boathouse. Steffan Edwards owns it. He fixes boats, rents out paddleboards and dinghies in the summer.”

“Would he know about the currents?”

“Probably.” Ffion begins walking back toward the lodges.

“Meet me there in the morning?”

“A third date already? You’re a fast operator, Mr. Brady.”

“What happened toLet’s forget last night ever happened?”


Tags: Clare Mackintosh Mystery