‘Yeah, it was me and Holly and Lewis, along with my brother. Miranda was around, too, but she was three years older than me and Holly and didn’t hang round with us much. She mostly stayed at home, helping to look after her mum.’
I did the maths. In 2006 Holly and Morag would have been seventeen, Lewis eighteen and Miranda twenty.
‘You been seeing each other long?’ Morag asked.
‘Nine months.’
‘The honeymoon period.’
I didn’t ask where Avril’s dad was or if she and him were together, though I noticed she wasn’t wearing any rings. If she’d had Avril as a teenager then it seemed unlikely. At least two jobs and probably a single mother. No wonder she looked so tired.
‘So what do you do, Patrick?’
I hated this question. As I pondered how to answer, Holly came out of the ladies holding her phone to her ear. She pointed at it and went outside into the cold.
‘I’m a delivery driver. Takeaway food.’
She was clearly surprised, but pleased. ‘An honest job. Wouldn’t be much work for you up here. The nearest takeaway is over an hour away, and they don’t do deliveries.’
I couldn’t stop myself saying, ‘It’s not my only job. I’m a film-maker, too.’
I could see it in her eyes. This was what she expected a boyfriend of Holly’s to do. ‘Ah. You make movies?’
‘Documentaries.’
Holly returned and sat beside me. The colour had returned to her cheeks.
‘Patrick here is extremely talented.’ She squeezed my leg. ‘The Disappearing Act. Have you seen it?’
‘Of course she won’t have,’ I said. ‘Nobody has.’
‘That’s not true. It was shown on BBC4.’
‘Once.’
Holly made an exasperated noise. ‘He’s so self-deprecating. It’s a really great film. It won an award.’
‘What’s it about?’
Holly explained. Curtis Carroll was an obscure musician, the type of artist the word ‘cult’ was invented to describe, who had vanished on his way to a gig. Most people believed he had taken his own life. Some thought he had been murdered. Others believed he had simply chosen to disappear, sick of pursuing fame and success.
‘And what did happen to him?’ Morag asked.
‘Nobody knows,’ I said. ‘That’s how the film ends, with nothing resolved. The mystery remains.’
Morag pursed her lips. ‘Oh. That sounds…’
‘Unsatisfying? The guy who funded it, who was a massive fan of this musician, expected me to find him, and I really did try, but then all the trails led nowhere and I knew the film would need an open ending. That’s what life’s like, isn’t it? Questions are unanswered. Puzzles remain unsolved.’
‘Yeah, but in films don’t you want a proper ending? I know I do.’ She turned to Holly. ‘What about you?’ Are you still working in that clothes shop?’
‘I am.’
Holly was the assistant manager of a boutique in Brighton’s North Laines.
‘That’s good. Jimmy and I always used to say none of you would ever have to work.’ I presumed Jimmy must be the brother Morag had mentioned. ‘Lewis and Miranda don’t even have jobs, do they?’
‘Miranda’s raising Freddie.’
