Death of a Stranger Read Free

but as he met Tim’s eyes he shyly smiled. “A friend of Mother’s who’s come over with her because he has business on the island.’’ He could only paraphrase what they had both told him, and he was relieved to see Lorna nod her approval. “Now. Drinks.’’
    When he got to the bar after taking their orders he discovered that Simon Shaw had signed an open chit. Another departure from his mother’s usual boyfriends, none of whom Tim had ever seen so much as attempting to override her generosity. Although it could, of course, be no more than a PR exercise if his mother was ultimately paying the bills.
    But he must acknowledge it. “ I’ve just discovered that these are on Simon,’’ he said, as he doled out the glasses. “Thank you, Simon.’’ As he raised his, Tim saw a look pass between Simon Shaw and his mother that he could only define as satisfied complicity, and his sense of unease returned. The exchange had been without overt sexual content, but he had a few moments’ work to discipline his fears and not allow them to obtrude on one of the most important evenings of his life. Simon Shaw was sharing it, there was nothing he could do about that. And his mother’s attention, from then on and during dinner, was on Anna as she made it obvious how happily she was embracing his choice of bride. Not that it would have made a jot of difference if she had disliked Anna, Tim reflected unfilially, but her approval was a bonus to his still incredulous joy that Anna had chosen him , as was his slower realisation as the evening progressed that she was captivated by his mother’s beguiling charm and obvious good intentions.
    The wedding reception was to be at the hotel, and there was a flower arrangement on their table that was a happy earnest of how it would be adorned. Tim wondered if it was that or their patent air of celebration which had neighbouring diners smiling at them, then decided it was the presence of his mother who, with her recent and uncelebrated sixtieth birthday, had lost nothing of her unique charisma. He managed quite well during the dinner not to think too precisely about Simon Shaw – and Shaw’s own quiet behaviour helped to make that easy – but he was aware of what he found himself defining as a proprietorial element in the boy’s obvious enjoyment of Lorna’s company which intrigued him at the same time as it evoked in him, to his shocked astonishment, a pang of jealousy. Who the hell was Simon Shaw, to be regarding his, Tim’s, mother as if he was her manager?
    He was being fanciful, he had to be. It was only because Shaw didn’t conform to his mother’s usual sexual scenario. And it was so long since he had seen her, anyway, he’d probably forgotten what that scenario was; it wasn’t a side of her life he had ever chosen to dwell on.
    When they were sitting over their coffee Shaw asked them if they would excuse him, he had some paperwork to do before embarking the next morning on the work that had brought him to Guernsey, and he wanted to break the back of it before going to bed. “ Thank you all so much for this evening, I’ve enjoyed it.’’
    Shaw bent to kiss Lorna’s cheek before leaving the table, and watching her face as the tall, fair-haired figure swung across the dining-room, Tim saw yearning in it and gave up his struggle to persuade himself that Simon Shaw was no more to his mother than a travelling companion.
    â€œMother’s really attached to that boy,’’ he said reluctantly to Anna as they came down the hotel steps into the windless, starry night.
    â€œYes, she is. Tim, I think we should ask him to the wedding. I think we’ve seen enough of him not to be afraid he’ll take that as an invitation to sit with the bridal party.’’
    â€œIf he tried to, Mother would go mad. As I’ve told you probably too often, she has a