A Question of Identity Read Free

showing it to me.’
    Lindsey looked at her despairingly. ‘Aren’t you the slightest bit curious to know
who’s
been blacked out, and why?’
    â€˜Probably a teacher who gave too much homework?’ Rona suggested.
    Lindsey shook her head. ‘It’s more than that. For one thing, it’s not just the face that’s been obliterated, it’s the whole figure – you can’t even tell if it’s male or female. As though the aim was to eliminate every last trace.’
    â€˜You’re reading too much into it, Linz,’ Rona protested.
    When her twin didn’t reply, she asked, with the first flicker of interest, ‘Who did you say it belonged to?’
    â€˜The mother-in-law of one of our members. She died recently; his wife’s been going through her things and came across it.’
    â€˜Hadn’t she seen it before, while her mother was alive?’
    â€˜Yes, that’s just it,’ Lindsey said slowly. ‘She remembered coming across it years ago, at the bottom of a sewing box, of all places. But when she’d asked about it, her mother nearly passed out, snatched it out of her hand, and steadfastly refused to discuss it. Glenda – that’s William’s wife – assumed she’d destroyed it. She said finding it again gave her a creepy feeling – as though the photo still held unsettling memories.’
    â€˜A little fanciful,’ Rona commented. ‘And I still don’t see why this – William – took it to your book group.’
    â€˜He’s been showing it to everyone, hoping someone might remember the school. Several in the group are in the right age bracket.’
    Rona flipped it over. On the back, written in faded pencil, were the words ‘Springfield Lodge. July 1951.’
    â€˜Isn’t there a house of that name out your way?’ she asked.
    â€˜That’s right; it’s still there, but in the guise of a private hotel.’
    â€˜
Did
any of the oldies remember it?’
    â€˜Only vaguely. Someone thought it had closed down in the early fifties – rather suddenly, they seemed to remember. Which, in view of the date on the photo, might be significant, wouldn’t you say?’
    Rona tossed it lightly back to her. ‘Who knows? If you want to make a mystery out of it, fair enough, but I can’t help you; I’ve never heard of the place.’ She looked up suddenly, fixing her twin with a glare. ‘Wait a minute: how come
you’ve
got hold of it?’
    Lindsey’s eyes dropped, and she poured two glasses of water with exaggerated care.
    â€˜
Linz!
’
    â€˜Well,’ Lindsey began diffidently, ‘you know how good you are at digging things out – your contacts, and so on. I just thought—’
    â€˜I hope you’re not telling me you volunteered my services?’
    â€˜Not exactly, I just—’
    â€˜Because if so, you can
un
volunteer them. Pronto.’
    â€˜Oh come on, Ro! You don’t want your detective skills to wither while you’re bio-ing! This would keep them ticking over nicely!’
    The waitress reappeared, and they sat in silence while she set down their plates. Then Rona said evenly, ‘As you well know, my
detective skills
, as you call them, have been greatly exaggerated. All I’ve done—’
    â€˜Is solve a few murders!’
    Rona made a dismissive gesture. ‘Quite apart from all that, I’m too tied up to take on anything else, even if I wanted to. Tell your friend to try Google.’
    â€˜Oh, he has, but drew a complete blank. Hardly surprising, I suppose, when the school closed so long ago. He also tried Friends Reunited and other sites, but again with no luck. It’s as though everyone who’d anything to do with Springfield prefers to forget the fact.’
    â€˜Oh, come on! A more likely explanation is they’re all getting on a bit. The youngest of those in the