Read Online Tarnished by Julia Crouch - Free Book Online Page A

Carleen shook her head, as if trying to dislodge something from her mind. ‘Well, she got ill, didn’t she.’
    Peg nodded. They both stood there, leaning against the dressing table and peering into their steaming mugs.
    ‘So do you want to know where your dad is or not?’ Carleen said at last, breaking their impromptu moment of silence.
    ‘I need to find him.’
    ‘He’s in Spain.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘He’s what you call arm’s-length. I don’t think he can come back here anyhow.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Reasons. You need to ask him that.’
    ‘Do you know his address?’
    Carleen shook her head.
    ‘Well I’ve got him narrowed down to one country in the whole world, I suppose.’ Peg peered gloomily into her mug. ‘It’s better than nothing.’
    ‘Don’t be so downhearted, girl. I don’t know his address, but I know how to find it. Follow me.’
    Carleen unlocked a door at the back of the changing room and led Peg into a small office.
    ‘The Flamingos nerve centre,’ Carleen said. ‘Best not to know all the deals going on in here. But they still need it cleaned, and Charlie the manager’s mostly an idiot. Or must think I’m one.’ She jiggled a mouse on the desk and the computer screen sprang to life. ‘See? He leaves it on and he’s still signed in. Useful for me if I want to do a bit of surfing, but still an idiotic thing to do. Especially when ‒’ she clicked a couple of times through to the email software ‒ ‘there’s stuff of a highly confidential nature. Like Raymond’s address. I know about it because the idiot couldn’t work out how to buy plane tickets online, so I had to help him. And he never clears anything out, not a thing.’
    She stood back and let Peg read the email, which dated back four years and concerned the hiring of a club dancer called Brandi for an event at a house called Casa Paloma Blanca, including a full itinerary and directions from Malaga airport.
    ‘That’s his house. It was for his wedding.’
    ‘He’s married?’
    Carleen nodded. ‘He wanted the best dancer from each of his clubs.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Yeah, I know. For a wedding. Tacky, innit. Brandi said the kid was there too, watching like.’
    ‘Kid?’
    ‘Raymond’s kid.’
    Peg was stunned. Having clung on to Doll’s stories of the heartbroken king, she hadn’t imagined that he’d have a new wife, let alone another child.
    ‘Oh honey,’ Carleen sighed. ‘You’re going to be doing a lot of finding out if you contact him. You sure you’re doing the right thing?’
    Peg nodded.
    ‘I mean sometimes it’s best to let things lie, you know?’
    ‘What does that mean?’
    Carleen ignored Peg’s question. ‘Look. I got to get on. And you need to help me with them shutters.’ She printed off the email and handed it to Peg. ‘Don’t whatever you do let him know it was me gave you the address.’
    Peg nodded. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘I got enough trouble without you landing me in it with him.’
    ‘I won’t say a word.’
    ‘I hope it turns out all right,’ Carleen said. ‘I hope he gets back in touch with your nan, and everything’s OK.’
    ‘I’m sure it will be,’ Peg said. ‘This is completely the right thing to do!’
    Carleen fixed her with her dark brown eyes.
    Peg wasn’t sure – it was almost imperceptible – but she thought she saw her shake her head.

Then
    I’m six years old here. Very young indeed. This is good progress.
    We’re whizzing along the front, bombing down the slopey paths towards the sea, charging down, down, down to the promenade below. The wind whips my hair and tears stream down my cheeks, brought on by the cold air and the fact that I’m laughing like a wild thing, wedged up between Aunty Jean and the steering column of her trolley.
    ‘Faster, Aunty Jean! Faster!’
    She ramps up the throttle so the trolley makes a high-pitched, juddering sound, and we bump and jump and fly over those lumps in the tarmac that look like giant, armour-plated moles