Deep Water, Thin Ice by Kathy Shuker Page A

you’re close?’
    ‘Yes, mostly. Very close. My father left before I was even one. He was a violinist; nice voice too. Couldn’t cope with the demands of family life apparently.’
    ‘That’s what your mother said anyway.’
    ‘Quite. More likely he couldn’t cope with her. Anyway, soon after, she met someone else, whirlwind romance, another marriage. That didn’t work out either but by then my baby sister Erica was born.’
    ‘I see. So do you see anything of your father?’
    ‘I did…once or twice, but it was Erica’s dad who turned up most often when we were kids. My father had a fit of conscience when I was twelve and got in touch. He took me out a couple of times.’ She stopped and drank some coffee.
    ‘And…’ he prompted.
    Alex shrugged.
    ‘And nothing really. I wasn’t sure what to make of him. I hardly knew him. And he’d got his own life then, a new wife, other children.’ She shrugged again, staring at the coffee. ‘I went to see him perform once though,’ she said, her expression brightening. ‘He was good, really good.’
    ‘And Erica? Sorry, I’m asking too many questions.’
    ‘No, it’s OK. You want to know about Erica?’ Alex gave an indulgent smile. ‘Erica’s everything I’m not. She’s a natural born organiser. She saw mum’s example and decided that no way was she going to be left in the lurch by any man. So she refused to get married, lived with a chap for six years, then – just the same - he went off and left her with a son. Hasn’t stopped her having a succession of unsuccessful romances mind you. She’s great but she’s a control freak and hates the fact I’m here. She’d like me back in London where she could keep an eye on me.’
    ‘So you want to impress her that the house is fine, that you’re fine, that everything is just fine? Hence the decorating.’
    ‘Exactly. Then, hopefully she’ll stop worrying and leave me to it.’
    ‘And this is where she’s going to sleep?’ he asked, looking round.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Nice room. But surely you should have this one; it’s the biggest?’
    ‘I preferred the room the other side of the bathroom. It’s big enough and there’s a window looking out to the river as well as the sea.’
    He nodded.
    ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘You know them well. I keep forgetting.’
    ‘I did once. So we’ll have to do that one next.’
    Alex laughed awkwardly.
    ‘It’s a kind thought but I can’t keep taking up your precious time. Don’t you have a girlfriend or someone you should be spending your spare time with?’
    She’d rehearsed saying it, keen to make it clear she wasn’t looking for that kind of relationship with him. But it came out wrong and she thought she’d given quite the opposite impression, as if she wanted to know if she had any competition. She flushed with embarrassment.
    Theo was shaking his head casually.
    ‘No, I’ve never been good at settling with anyone. Too restless my mother always says. Perhaps I’ve just never met the right person.’
    ‘Maybe. I used to think I’d never settle with anyone. Then I met Simon.’ She bit her lip and looked away.
    ‘Alex?’
    ‘Mm?’
    ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking but…I’ve been wondering ever since the funeral: did you bury Simon’s ashes or scatter them?’
    ‘I haven’t done anything with them.’
    Theo frowned.
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘I’ve still got them. They’re in a casket in my bedroom.’
    Theo turned his head, as if he’d be able to see them through the intervening bricks and mortar.
    ‘Here?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What…I mean, aren’t you going to bury them? Sorry, forgive me asking but…you know…’
    ‘You think it’s unhealthy?’ she said, bridling. ‘That it’s not normal? No, you’re right,’ she answered herself in a clipped voice. ‘That’s what everyone says or at least thinks.’
    ‘I wouldn’t have put it that way.’
    ‘No? Well my mother did. I will do something with them. I just haven’t