Page 9 of A Village Theatre Murder
Sean brought over the fresh tomato and grilled mushrooms, the bacon – crispy, the way they both liked it – and the pot of scrambled eggs with its scattering of chives.
‘A feast!’ Julia said. ‘Looks great, thanks. You are an amazing breakfast-maker. Amongst your other talents, of course.’
Sean beamed. ‘Dig in.’
She did just that, filling her plate, buttering her toast, making free with the pepper grinder before handing it over to him – one of the little things they shared was a liking for a lot of ground black pepper. Despite being ravenous after no dinner, they ate at a lazy Sunday-morning pace. Julia was trying not to dwell on the next activity of the day – her 11a.m. appointment with the Berrywick police. She hoped the conversation would be short.
‘I shouldn’t think you’ll be long with Hayley,’ Sean said, as if reading her mind. ‘Shall I wait for you, and we can take the dogs out for a good long walk after? It’s a lovely day for it.’
‘Just what I will need to blow all the horrible things out of my head,’ Julia said. ‘Let’s go to the lake for a change. We haven’t been there in a while, and the chestnut trees might already be turning.’
‘Good plan. I shall peruse the comings and goings of the great and the good and the not so good in the Sunday papers while you’re gone. Message me when you are on your way home and I’ll harness the hounds.’
They were interrupted by the buzzing sound of a silent phone vibrating against a hard surface. ‘Sorry, that’s mine. I thought I had turned it off,’ Sean said, standing up and reaching over to the countertop to grasp the thing. ‘I’ll turn it off…Oh. It’s a London number. I wonder who…? Do you mind if I…?’
‘Please, go ahead.’
The way Sean’s brow furrowed made her sad. Julia knewthat the London number had made him jump to concerns about his eldest son. Jono lived in London, and he was absent, although not exactly estranged, from his father. He was at sea in his life, perpetually undecided on his direction, starting jobs and courses but never quite finishing anything. Sean worried terribly about him, but couldn’t seem to find a way to connect with him, or help him. ‘Dr O’Connor here, I missed your call…Yes, I am…’
There was a long pause, during which time Julia could hear the faint, tinny sound of agitated speaking on the other end of the phone. Sean’s side of the conversation was not encouraging. ‘I quite understand…I’m very sorry about that. I do apologise, and of course I’ll pay for any damage…’
A shorter pause, and then Sean said, ‘If I could speak to him, perhaps we could sort out…’
The agitated tinny sound seemed somewhat louder.
‘I see. Thank you. Please ask him to wait there for me. I’ll come. Thank you, and again I’m very…’
Whoever was on the other side must have ended the call because Sean let his hand fall, the phone hanging at his side. He looked utterly dejected, standing there by the sink. Julia got up and went to him.
‘Is it Jono?’ Julia asked gently. ‘Is he all right?’
Sean exhaled, a long, exhausted breath. ‘No,’ he said. ‘He’s not all right.’
The relaxed Sunday-morning feel had fled, a worried melancholy in its place. The eggs congealed on their plates, the crispy bacon cold and hardening. Sean sat down. Julia sat next to him.
‘That was his landlady. He hasn’t paid his rent for two months.’
‘Oh dear. Can you help him out?’
Sean didn’t speak immediately. In spite of the closeness between the two of them, there was some reservednessaround discussing each other’s children. Without expressly negotiating that particular piece of marshy ground, Sean and Julia had somehow come to an agreement that delicacy should be observed in this matter. This was particularly so when it came to Jono. Julia tended not to ask questions or offer observations, but instead waited to be informed or, occasionally, consulted.
Sean cleared his throat and answered. ‘I did. He messaged me that he was short and I sent him the money for his rent. It seems it didn’t make its way to the landlady. She’s evicting him for non-payment. Apparently he didn’t pay the full rent the previous month, either.’
‘I see. Do you think you can convince her to take him back?’
‘I doubt it. He got upset – or “freaked out”, as she put it – when she told him he had to go. Refused to leave. He went out at some point and she locked the doors. He’s outside on the pavement. She called me as his emergency contact.’
‘Oh, Sean, I’m sorry. What a mess.’
‘It is a mess.He’sa mess. I’m going to go and see what’s going on. Perhaps I can sort things out, although it doesn’t sound likely. It’s not just the money. His room is an absolute tip, apparently. He doesn’t take the rubbish out. She’s worried about rats.’
‘What will you do? Will you bring him home with you for a bit?’
Jono hadn’t been to visit his father in all the time Sean and Julia had been together. First he had been studying music, and had apparently been too busy. After that, it had been one excuse after another. Sean had visited him in London on occasion, but Julia had never met him.
Sean looked at his watch. ‘I’d better go. It’ll take me about three hours to get there, and he’s out on the street. The landlady said she won’t let him in until I arrive. And I’ve got to go home first to drop Leo.’
‘What time is it?’ Julia asked, remembering her own appointment with Hayley Gibson.
