Inhuman Remains

Eight

So there I was, all my meticulous groundwork done, and ready to go in search of my disappeared cousin, ready to step back into some of the excitement of my past life. . only to discover that I wasn’t.

As soon as I heard the front door open, and went through to find Tom fetching an isotonic drink from the fridge for a distinctly frazzled Auntie Ade, who was slumped in one of the kitchen chairs, all my resolve seemed to drain out through the soles of my bare feet. ‘Are you all right, Adrienne?’ I asked, anxiously.

‘Fine,’ she replied, unconvincingly. ‘Those ruins are more exposed than I realised. I must have become a little dehydrated. I felt a little faint, that’s all. Luckily, Tom knew one of the people there, a very nice young man called Jordi. He put us in his van and ran us home.’

‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ said my son, frowning anxiously. ‘I should have taken more water with us.’

I looked down at them. The trip to Sevilla was predicated on Adrienne looking after my seven year old; what I could see at that moment was him looking after her. As I’ve told you, he’s a very sensible, resourceful lad for his age, but. .

‘This won’t do, Auntie Ade,’ I declared. ‘You take Tom for an outing and you come back a basket case. I can’t leave you.’

I stalked back to my office, picked up Frank’s old Swiss business card and dialled the mobile number, which his mother had told me was still active. I had called it earlier, to find it on voicemail, as Adrienne had said. This time I left a message: you could say it was a little terse. ‘Frank,’ I began, ‘this is your cousin Primavera. I have your mother with me, here in St Martí, worried out of her skull because you’ve disappeared from your so-called job and aren’t answering her calls. If you pick this up, then ring me at once. Otherwise tomorrow I’m on my way down to Sevilla to find you. I have a strong feeling that you’re messing her around, you little sod. If you do not stop, then I will personally give you a double orchidectomy, and if you don’t know what that means, look it up!’ I recited my mobile number, then slammed the phone down.

When I turned, I saw my aunt standing in the doorway. ‘What have you just threatened to do to my son?’ she asked, with a weak smile.

‘Rip his balls off.’

‘This may sound unmaternal, but I really hope you have the opportunity to do that soon. I fear you won’t, though. I fear. .’ Her voice broke, her shoulders slumped and she started to cry. To say that it took me aback is putting it mildly: in all my life I never saw my mother shed a tear, and her sister’s a pea from the same pod.

I held her to me and let her dampen my shoulder for a while. ‘I’m sorry, my dear,’ she whispered, when she had composed herself.

‘What the hell for?’

‘For being so soppy, for making a complete tit of myself in front of my nephew at those ruins, but most of all for being so damn presumptuous. It was outrageous of me to ask you to get involved in this. I’ll go to Seville myself, and find out what’s happened to Frank.’

It was as if her weakness had restored my strength. ‘Auntie Ade,’ I reminded her, ‘you’re that number you never use plus two years old, and if the heat gets to you here, it will kill you in Sevilla. My arrangements are made. I’ll go, and I’ll trust you not to do anything silly. If you do need anything, you can go to any of the people in the restaurants or shops: they’re all chums of ours. If something comes up when they’re closed, I have a friend called Alex Guinart. He’s a police officer, and you can rely on him.’

When she smiled again, the mischief was back. ‘A friend, eh. How close?’

‘Fairly. I’m godmother to his baby daughter, Marte.’