‘Number 7 it is, then. Mrs Wallwin.’
Closer to, the bricks weren’t really black at all. They had an almost purplish tinge, as if they had been steeped in blackberry juice. Number 7 showed few signs of decoration. Its paintwork was a sort of chestnut brown, or had been at one time. The combination with the black bricks was somehow depressing. There were lace curtains in the windows, which gave it an old-fashioned air. It might have been part of a setting for one of those urban town scapes painted by L. S. Lowry. After all, the painter had lived for a number of years at Mottram, down the valley, so it was possible he had seen Waterloo Terrace.
To reach number 7, Cooper and Udall had to pass a fenced-off area where six green wheelie bins were stored. They reached the front walls of the row of gardens. All the gardens were long and narrow, and all were overgrown, despite the past efforts at growing vegetables. They walked up the path, avoiding the nettles that were spreading from the soil on to the stone flags. Cooper took a quick glance at number 8, which was on the other side of one of the dark brick passageways. Its windows were dirty and curtain less, and it had an air of neglect. There was nothing more depressing than a house that had been left empty for a long time, and in Waterloo Terrace it was more depressing than ever.
‘I haven’t complained to the police about anything,’ said Mrs Wallwin, when she found Ben Cooper and Tracy Udall on her doorstep.
Cooper was surprised at the defensive note in her voice. Though she was slight and rather frail looking, she stood right on the step, as if she hoped to block the doorway. Many old people were far too trusting about who they opened their doors to. But not in Withens, it seemed.
‘Mrs Wallwin? Good afternoon. We just want to ask you a few questions,’ said Udall in her pleasantest manner. With most elderly people, her charm would have worked perfectly.
‘What about?’ said Mrs Wallwin.
‘May we come in?’
‘What for?’
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‘It doesn’t matter/ said Cooper. ‘Do you know a young man called Neil Granger?’
And Mrs Wallwin’s face softened a bit then.
‘Yes, of course I do. I know him and his brother. They used to live here.’
‘Here?’ said Cooper. ‘You mean here, in Waterloo Terrace?’
‘Next door. They were looked after by their uncle and aunt when they were teenagers. Their dad was sent to prison, and they never saw him again after he came out. Then their poor mother fell ill with cancer and couldn’t look after them herself.’
‘Their uncle and aunt would be Mr and Mrs Oxley?’
‘That’s right.’
‘They have quite a few children of their own, don’t they?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do they cause you any trouble, Mrs Wallwin?’
‘Not to speak of. They can be a bit noisy, but all kids are like that.’
Mrs Wallwin was wearing rather worn pink slippers, and her legs were painfully thin. Cooper could detect a musty smell, like old newspapers or clothes that hadn’t been aired properly.
‘When did you last see Neil Granger?’ he asked.
‘He was by here the other night.’
‘Which night?’
‘It would be Friday.’
‘Do you know what time?’
She shook her head. ‘He went off with the others. His uncle and his cousins. They went off up to the pub, I should think.’
‘Thank you.’
Beyond Mrs Wallwin, Cooper could see a small table in the hallway. There were a couple of familiar-looking envelopes on it, with red slogans on the outside. ‘You’re a winner!’ ‘Open now for some wonderful news!’ The usual junk mail, not yet thrown away.
‘Neil and Philip don’t live here any more,’ said Mrs Wallwin. ‘The house is empty now. I only got this one because my son works for the company.’
‘The company?’
‘The water company.’
‘Do you live alone, Mrs Wallwin?’ said Udall. She sounded genuinely concerned, but it didn’t wash.
‘Why do you ask?’
There have been a few problems in this area. A lot of houses
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have been broken into. We just want to be sure that you’re safe and secure.’
‘I’m safe, all right. Nobody comes here.’
‘Nobody?’
The old lady looked suddenly worried, as if she had given the wrong answer.
‘My son comes to see me,’ she said. ‘Of course he does. Why shouldn’t he?’
‘As long as you’re all right, love,’ said Udall.
