Birth Marks Read Free

the risk. She shook her head.
    Despite her stubbornness I felt sorry for her, but then she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would appreciate charity. She looked up at me, composure regained. ‘I’m afraid, Miss Wolfe, that’s all I can tell you. Do you consider it enough information?’
    More than most, less than some. In the end it’s not the case that you take on, but the people. While Miss Patrick was no longer a swan, she was still a tough old bird who needed to know where her fledgling had gone. And who wanted me to find out rather than the police. That was my last question. Why me, not them?
    â€˜I heard a programme once on the radio. It said that every year 25,000 people go missing in Britain. As you say, Carolyn hasn’t been out of touch for very long. I can see if I were a policeman I would not attach very much importance to an old woman’s concern.’
    She was right. ‘Well, Miss Patrick, I’ll be happy to take your case if, that is, you decide you want me. I should explain that my fees are seventy-five pounds a day excluding expenses. Obviously I can’t tell you how long it will take, but I can give you a report at the end of, say, four or five days, so you can assess my progress.’
    When I first started I used to have to practise the bit about the money in the mirror. It seemed so crude, weighing pound signs against someone’s loss or anxiety. But talking money, I have learnt since, can often help camouflage the pain. She nodded her head, then stood up and made her way across to an old oak sideboard near the window. Still, after all these years, it was a pleasure watching her move. As she inclined her swan neck to search for something in a top drawer, I imagined her younger, dancing her way through housework, with only an ageing invalid for an audience. Even though I should know better I still think it’s a shame that life isn’t fair. When she turned she held a grey cardboard file in one hand and a clutch of fifty pound notes in the other.
    â€˜Miss Wolfe, I have no idea if you can find Carolyn, but I need help and you are here, so I suppose I had better employ you. You will need an advance, I presume?’
    Hannah, I thought to myself as I took the money, you’ve got to stop dazzling clients like this.
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    With cash in my pocket I took a taxi back to the station. It left me half an hour to kill. Why sit and daydream when you could work? The local directory yielded up a total of five Hamiltons. From the public phone booth I called them all. ‘I would prefer it if you didn’t disturb them, Miss Wolfe. She hadn’t seen her family in years. I am sure she wouldn’t go to them now. Not without telling me first.’ So said Miss Patrick. It was not that I didn’t believe her, it was more a question of being safe rather than sorry: no point in spending a fortune ferreting around London when the girl you’re looking for is sitting by the farm aga learning how to bake bread and re-establish family values. But when I found them, her father—at least I assume it was her father—didn’t seem that interested in his daughter’s where-abouts.
    â€˜No, she doesn’t live here, she’s in London. I don’t know how you got this number, she’s not been here for years. What? I don’t know, you’d have to ask the wife. I suppose she’s got it somewhere. We really don’t keep in touch. If you want to see her you should speak to Augusta Patrick. She knows more about Carolyn than we do. What did you say your name was?’
    But I hadn’t, and there wasn’t much point in telling him now. Nothing like paternal affection to set a girl on the right road for life. Families. Either they love you too much or they don’t love you enough. No wonder they’re called nuclear. Maybe Carolyn was just trying to cut loose from all her apron strings. I thought about the pain and