Read Online Close to Home by Peter Robinson - Free Book Online Page A

“Were you and Graham close, Joan?”
    â€œAs close as any brother and sister with two years between them can be in their teens,” said Joan with a rueful smile. She sat on the floor in front of the television and crossed her legs. “Actually, I’m not being fair. Graham wasn’t like most other boys his age. He even bought me presents. He didn’t tease me or torment me. If anything, he was very protective.”
    â€œFrom what?”
    â€œSorry?”
    â€œWhat did he have to protect you from?”
    â€œOh, I didn’t mean anything in particular. You know, just in general. If anyone tried to bully me or anything like that.”
    â€œBoys?”
    â€œWell, I was only twelve when he disappeared, but yes, there were a couple of over-amorous local lads he sent packing.”
    â€œWas Graham a tough lad?”
    â€œNot really,” said Mrs. Marshall. “Mind you, he never backed away from a fight. When we moved and he first went to school here, there was a bit of bullying—you know, the way they always like to test the new kid—but in his first week our Graham took on the school bully. He didn’t win, but he put up a good fight, blacked an eye and bloodied a nose, so nobody bothered him after that.”
    Michelle was wondering how difficult it would be for someone to abduct and murder Graham Marshall if he could put up a good fight. Might it have taken two people? Might he have been drugged or knocked unconscious first? Or was it someone he knew and went with willingly? “You said you moved up here?” Michelle went on. “Would that be from the East End?”
    â€œIt still shows, does it, after all these years? Once a Cockney, always a Cockney, I suppose. Not that I’m ashamed of it. Yes, we came from Bethnal Green. We moved around a fair bit because of Bill’s work. He’s a bricklayer. Or he was. We’d only been here a year or so when it happened. Graham had just finished third form at the local grammar school.”
    â€œBut you stayed on after.”
    â€œYes. There was plenty of work, what with the new town business. Plenty of building. And we like it here. It suits us.”
    â€œMrs. Marshall,” said Michelle, “I know it’s a long time ago, but can you tell me what sort of things Graham was interested in?”
    â€œInterested in? Oh, the usual boys’ stuff. Football. Cricket. And pop music. He was pop-music crazy. We’ve still got his old guitar upstairs. Practiced chords for hours, he did. Mind you, he read a lot, too. Graham was the sort of lad who could amuse himself. He didn’t always need someone to entertain him. Loved to read about space. You know, science fiction, rockets to Mars, green-eyed monsters. Space-mad, he was.” She looked at the photograph and a faraway expression came over her features. “Just the day before he…well, there was some sort of rocket launch in America, and he was so excited, watching it on telly.”
    â€œDid he have many friends?”
    â€œHe made quite a few around here,” Joan answered. She looked at her mother. “Who was there, Mum?”
    â€œLet me remember. There was the Banks lad, of course, they were very close, and David Grenfell and Paul Major. And Steven Hill. Some others, maybe, but those five all lived on the estate, so they’d walk to school together, play cricket or football on the rec, listen to music together, swap records. That sort of thing. Some of their parents still live here. Those who are still left alive, that is.”
    â€œWas Graham a popular boy?”
    â€œI’d say so, yes,” said Mrs. Marshall. “He had an easygoing nature. I can’t see how he could possibly have offended anyone. I’m not saying he was perfect, mind you. He was a normal teenage lad, and he had his fair share of high spirits.”
    â€œWas he a bright lad?”
    â€œHe did well at school, didn’t he,