A Finer End

Faith snatched a shapeless cardigan from the peg on the kitchen door as they passed. “She said … ‘I have to go. I’m late for an appointment.’ ”

“And you assumed it was a delivery?”

“She’d said so in the café, when Winnie invited us to Jack’s.”

A peek into the sitting room showed Winnie not waiting for the tea he’d promised, but fast asleep on the sofa.

When they reached the Escort, Faith said, “I like your car. It’s purple.”

“Wild Orchid, actually. But it’s not mine. It’s Gemma’s.”

Faith gave him a sideways glance as she stretched the seat belt around her stomach. “She’s nice.”

“Very nice,” Kincaid agreed.

“She said she has a little boy, and she’s raised him by herself since he was born.”

“That’s right.” Kincaid answered cautiously, wondering where this was going. “It hasn’t always been easy, but she’s done a terrific job.”

“What about his father?”

“He and Gemma divorced just after Toby was born, and he disappeared not too long afterwards. Didn’t want to pay his child support.”

Faith digested this in silence as they drove to the café.

“Not all men are like that, you know,” Kincaid offered. “Are you wondering if your baby’s father will help you?”

“I don’t need his help.” Her voice had grown steely.

“Faith, Gemma and I went to see your parents this morning.”

“But I—You didn’t tell them—”

“No, we didn’t tell them where you were. But we did promise we’d tell you how much they want you to come home.”

“That’s the last thing my father would want!”

“I think your dad misses you. It’s just hard for him to say so. Sometimes love and anger and worry get all tangled up, and the wrong thing somehow spills out.”

Faith was out of her seat belt as he came to a stop in front of the café, but not before he’d seen the tears in her eyes.

“I’ve got to go. You can pick me up at five if you want.”

“I think I’ll come in for a cup of tea,” Kincaid decided abruptly. “I’d like to meet Buddy.”

“Charles Barnes,” said the café’s proprietor, gripping Kincaid’s hand. “But most folks call me Buddy. What can I do for you?”

“Just a few minutes of your time, if you can spare it.”

“Sure, I can. Any friend of Jack Montfort’s is a friend of mine.” Buddy motioned Kincaid to a seat at a nearby table. “He’s been good to Faith. Garnet would have”—he cleared his throat—“Garnet would have appreciated that.”

“Garnet was fond of Faith, I take it.”

“More than fond,” Buddy replied. Glancing at Faith, busy in the kitchen, he lowered his voice. “There were times I wished I’d never told her about Faith, thinking to do a favor for them both. Garnet worried about her so, you’d have thought she’d brought that girl into the world herself. And now what’s going to happen to Faith, with Garnet gone? I’ll keep her on here, after the kid’s born, but she’s got no place to live.”

“Have you any idea why Garnet was so concerned about Faith’s welfare?”

“She talked about the Tor, and about Faith being a magnet for the old powers, but there was nothing concrete. Garnet always had a bee in her bonnet about that stuff.”

“You knew her for a long time, Faith said.”

His weathered face creased in a smile. “We were going to change the world, you know? Who’d have thought we’d end up old hippies, stuck to the side of Glastonbury Tor like burrs. Although I guess you could say Bram and Fiona made something of themselves, but they couldn’t leave Glastonbury either.”

“You all knew each other?” Kincaid asked, surprised.

“Oh, we were tight, the four of us. Fiona and me, Bram and Garnet. But then things changed. They always do, don’t they? Bram set his sights on Fiona, and Garnet and I … Well, we made the best of things. Garnet bought the old Kinnersley place for a song, and I suppose I thought we’d just go on forever.…” He lapsed into silence.

“Why did Garnet never have the old farmhouse modernized?”

“Habit, mostly,” Buddy said fondly. “At first she couldn’t afford it, then she just got used to it, I reckon. And I think she liked the reputation it earned her.”

“It can’t have been easy for her, living there alone.”

“Not as hard as you might think. She had indoor plumbing, fed from the spring above the house, and the woodstove heated the water. And I don’t think she missed things like television all that much. Garnet never had any trouble keeping herself occupied.”

So Garnet could have drowned in water from her own taps, Kincaid thought, but he said merely, “But she was lonely, I expect, until Faith came along.”

“I expect she was.” Buddy said it quietly. His glance in Faith’s direction made it clear that the girl’s presence had filled more than one void.

There was no sign of Nick’s motorbike outside his caravan, and no answer to Kincaid’s knock.

Making the return journey to Glastonbury, Kincaid found a parking spot on the High Street. He and Gemma had lunched in the Café Galatea the previous day, and the pretty dark-haired waitress smiled in recognition as he came in.

He waited until she’d finished serving the nearest table, then asked her quietly if she knew Nick Carlisle.