“I never interfered with what he wanted. I even bought him a guitar.”
“Yes. In the hope he’d start playing classical or jazz or something other than what he did.”
“Don’t tell me you liked that bloody racket any more than I did?”
“That doesn’t matter. Oh, what’s the use. What I’m trying to say is that we didn’t drive him away, no more than your parents drove you away, not really. He wants to be independent like you did. He wants his own life.”
“I know that, but…”
“But nothing. We still have Tracy. Enjoy her while you can.”
“But she’s never home. She’s always out with that Harrison boy, getting up to God knows what.”
“She’s not getting up to anything. She’s sensible.”
“She doesn’t seem interested in anything else any more. Her schoolwork’s slipping.”
“Not much,” Sandra said. “And I’ll bet yours slipped a bit when you got your first girlfriend.”
Banks said nothing.
“Alan, you’re jealous, that’s all.”
“Jealous? Of my own daughter?”
“Oh, come on. You know she was the apple of your eye. You never were as close to Brian as you were to her. Now she seems to have no time for you, you resent it.”
Banks rubbed his cheek. “Do I?”
“Of course you do. If only you could bring as much perception to your own family as you do to your cases you wouldn’t have these problems.”
“Knowing is one thing, feeling all right about it is quite another.”
“I realize that. But you have to start with knowing.”
“How do you cope?” Banks asked. “You’ve been like a stranger to me these past few months.”
“I didn’t say I’d been coping very well either, only that I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about things.”
“And?”
“It’s not easy, but we’ve reached that time where our children are no longer children. They can no longer keep us together.”
Banks felt a chill run through him. “What do you mean they can’t keep us together?”
“What I say. Oh, for God’s sake don’t look so worried. I didn’t mean it that way. Maybe I didn’t choose the best words. The kids gave us a lot in common, shared pleasures, anxieties. They’ll still do that, of course, though I’m sure more on the anxieties side, but we can’t relate to them the same way. They’re not just children to be seen and not heard. You can’t just order them not to do things. They’ll only rebel and do worse. Remember your own childhood? You were a bit of a shit-disturber even when I met you. Still are, if truth be known. See Brian and Tracy for what they are, for what they’re becoming.”
“But what did you mean about them keeping us together? It sounded ominous to me.”
“Only that we won’t have them to gather around for much longer. We’ll have to find other things, discover one another in other ways.”
“It could be fun.”
Sandra nodded. “It could be. But we’ve both been avoiding it so far.”
“You too?”
“Of course. How many times have we spent an evening in the house alone together these past eighteen years?”
“There’s been times.”
“Oh yes, but you can count them on the fingers of one hand. Besides, we knew Brian would be back from Boys’ Brigade or Tracy from the Guides, or they were up in their rooms. We’re not old, Alan. We married young and we’ve got a lot ahead of us.”
Banks looked at Sandra. Not old, certainly. The earnest face, her eyes shining with emotion, black eyebrows contrasting the blonde hair that hung down over her shoulders. A lump came to his throat. If I walked into the pub right this moment, he thought, and saw her sitting there, I’d be over like a shot.
“Where do we start?” he asked.
Sandra tossed back her head and laughed. People turned to look at her but she paid them no attention. “Well, I’ve got this bloody show to organize still, and it’s not all been a matter of staying late at the gallery to avoid facing things. I do have a lot of hours to put in.”
“I know that,” Banks said. “And so do I.”
Sandra frowned. “There’s still nothing on that missing child, is there?”
Banks shook his head. “No. It’s been five days now since she was abducted.”
“Just imagine what her poor mother must be going through. Have you given up hope?”
“We don’t expect miracles.” He paused. “You know something? She reminds me of Tracy when she was that age. The blonde hair, the serious expression. Tracy always did take after you.”
“You’re being sentimental, Alan. From the photo I saw in the paper she didn’t look a bit like Tracy.”
Banks smiled. “Maybe not. But I’m on another case now. That reminds me. Have you ever heard of a bloke called Adam Harkness?”
