Page 77 of All the Things We Never Knew

‘And with her father not being here,’ I went on, ‘I mean, an older boy – not that this Callum is any kind of father figure, the miserable shit – but she’s so much more vulnerable. So much more likely to fall for whatever male attention she can get. I should’ve known that.’

‘You’re grieving too, Anna,’ Laurel said gently. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself. You can’t be everywhere at once – physically or emotionally.’

‘I wasn’t there, though. Physically or emotionally. I was off in Wales, trying to find out about Gray.’

‘You were?’ Curiosity sparked in Laurel’s eyes. ‘Did you… I mean, is that why you were at the concert tonight?’

‘I wanted to hear Joel Chamberlain play,’ I explained. ‘It turns out – I found out, when I was in Wales – that he was at school with Gray. An elite school for boys with a talent for music.’

‘Really? They were at school together? So that’s how…’

‘How what?’

‘How they met. I thought it might have been later, at university or something.’

‘Wait.’ A thought formed in my mind as I drank the last tepid dregs of my tea, avoiding the soggy biscuit crumbs in the bottom of the cup. ‘How did you find out that Joel knew Gray? Gray didn’t tell you, did he?’

She shook her head. ‘He just mentioned his name. I tracked him down myself, because I wanted to meet the person Gray donated his kidney to. But you knew that already, of course.’

If I had wanted to pretend her revelation wasn’t news to me, I would have failed. Her words hit me with such force that I felt my eyes widen and heard myself gasp. I had recognised Joel as the boy in the school photograph when I saw him on stage, but it had never crossed my mind that he and Gray could have had this other, even deeper connection.

‘No. No, I didn’t,’ I said. ‘I had no idea.’

‘I…’ She flushed, and went on hastily, ‘I tried to find out. I was curious, because there was – you know. Some part of Gray that was still alive. Apart from your children, obviously. Gray never said much to me about it, only his name. And then I saw an interview with him in a magazine where it said he’d had a kidney transplant, and I realised I’d found him.’

Suddenly, I remembered the card – the twenty-fifth anniversary card that had arrived after Gray’s death, signed with a J. That must have been the occasion it was marking. Not a woman; not a lover. A friend with a debt of gratitude.

‘What did you find out, in Wales?’ Laurel was asking.

My meeting with Bryn suddenly seemed like a long time ago. I tried to transport myself back to the sunny bench, the old man next to me, the voices of the choir still fresh and sweet in my memory.

‘Gray was unhappy at school,’ I said, sadness weighing heavy in my stomach. ‘There was something about his home life – his mother. She was neglectful, troubled maybe. But she’s dead now – she’s been dead for years, since before I met him. So I’ll never know what went on.’

‘Joel would know, though,’ Laurel said.

‘Joel and Joel’s mother.’ I took my phone out of my bag. The number was still there in my list of contacts where I’d saved it. Seren Chamberlain, mother of the boy who had grown up to be a world-class violinist, whose best friend had been a gifted pianist, but left all of that behind him. Might she know why? Could she answer the questions I had about Gray, which seemed to be multiplying rather than reducing the more I found out?

And did I want to find out? It didn’t matter whether I wanted to, I realised – I needed to.

‘I’m going to talk to her,’ I said. ‘To Seren Chamberlain. I’m going to call her tomorrow.’

Laurel spoke as if she hadn’t heard me, her fingers twisting her teaspoon where it rested on her saucer. ‘I’m going to see Joel. At least, I’m going to message him and ask if he’ll meet me. If he doesn’t mind.’

Then she looked up, like she’d just remembered I was there. ‘If you don’t mind,’ she added.

FORTY-FIVE

ORLA

28 September 2024

Anna asked me to babysit the children last night – if babysitting is even the word, given that Barney is barely a child any more and Lulu is practically an adult. She suggested I have them round at my place – a sort of double lock, I suppose: not only insurance that Lulu wouldn’t be able to sneak off anywhere again, if indeed she was minded to do so, but also a form of punishment, because being minded by me is nowhere near as interesting a prospect as being at home alone or round at a friend’s house.

For Barney, though, it didn’t seem like much of a hardship at all. As soon as we’d eaten our takeaway pizzas, paid for by Anna, he asked if it was okay for him to play the piano, and I gladly agreed.

Must you? grumbled his sister, plugging her headphones into her ears. It’ll be more cringe than Katy Perry singing Woman’s World.

Mum’s gone to see Joel Chamberlain at the Royal Albert Hall, Barney said. I’m proper salty about it. At least here I can have some music.