Everything is Beautiful by Eleanor Ray (best classic romance novels txt) 📕

time that Tim went missing I was able to locate the most likely location for the photo. It’s here in the city. Abletree Park. Mean anything to you?’

‘No,’ said Amy. All she could think was that when Richard rambled like that, he reminded her of his son. She traced the pattern of the wooden tabletop with her finger. Concentric circles, as unique as a fingerprint.

‘Anyway, I’ve even found out that the 383 bus goes there.’

Amy sat upright. ‘The 383?’ she queried.

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘So go on.’

‘Go on what?’ asked Amy.

‘Call me the Sherlock Holmes of the construction world.’ ‘Thank you, Richard,’ said Amy, a little stiffly.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Richard, the brightness fading from his voice. ‘I’ve been treating it lightly. I should have been more sensitive.’

‘It’s fine,’ said Amy, ‘I appreciate your help.’

‘Good. I thought we could go there later today. Can you get out of work early?’

‘Today?’ asked Amy.

‘I think it’s best that we just do it,’ said Richard. ‘So you don’t have time to worry. Rip the plaster off.’

‘Um . . . ’ Amy could see the wisdom in that, and already she’d worked out that she would have several hours of worry to get through, as well as this hangover. Maybe a bacon sandwich would help.

‘The boys and I will come with you,’ said Richard. ‘For moral support. That digger, by the way, was being used to build a playground. I’ve seen pictures online and it looks awesome. Meet outside your house at four?’

‘I’ll check with my boss,’ said Amy, feeling strangely relieved to be railroaded instead of having to think it through. ‘But it should be fine.’

‘Great,’ replied Richard. ‘See you there.’ He hung up.

Amy would need to leave two hours early. She went back to her desk and fired a quick email to Mr Trapper, asking permission. He replied instantaneously with a single cryptic letter.

‘What does “K” mean?’ she asked Carthika.

‘Is that what your man wrote?’ replied Carthika, who seemed unable to let it go.

‘No,’ snapped Amy. ‘It is what Mr Trapper wrote to me, and before you start it isn’t him as he is a happily married man and twenty years my senior.’

‘OK,’ said Carthika.

‘I know it’s OK,’ replied Amy. ‘What does “K” mean?’

‘OK,’ said Carthika again. Amy was just about to lose her temper when she realised. OK. K. She supposed being a partner at even a medium adviser firm like Trapper, Lemon and Hughes left you bereft of time, but surely typing an ‘O’ wasn’t too much to ask.

‘Mr Trapper reckons he’s down with the kids,’ added Carthika. ‘Didn’t you see his leather jacket yesterday? Not that kids wear leather any more, they’re all vegans.’

‘Thank you, Carthika,’ said Amy. ‘I’ll be leaving early today.’ Carthika opened her mouth. ‘And it’s not to meet a man,’ continued Amy, realising that wasn’t strictly true. ‘Before you get excited.’

‘I was going to ask if you wanted help with the Apex document?’ said Carthika.

‘Oh,’ replied Amy. ‘Yes, thank you.’ She handed the weighty file across the table.

‘Good luck,’ said Carthika. She smiled at Amy. ‘I’m going to the greasy spoon. Want a bacon roll?’

Amy instantly forgave Carthika everything. ‘With brown sauce,’ she said, gratitude spilling into her voice.

‘It’s a bus,’ announced Daniel as it pulled up at the stop. ‘It’s got wheels.’

‘And they go round and round,’ replied Charles. ‘Chill out.’

‘No squabbling,’ said Richard, helping Daniel on to the bus. He promptly ran to the steps and started climbing up. ‘We’ll sit downstairs,’ said Richard, but it was futile. The three of them followed Daniel up, arriving at the top deck just as the bus pulled away.

‘I’ll sit next to Amy,’ said Charles, pushing his dad out of the way. Richard shrugged and sat in the seat in front next to Daniel, who had pressed his face to the window like a sucker fish.

‘What do you think we’ll find out?’ asked Charles, turning to Amy. She’d eaten the bacon roll followed by two bags of crisps and a litre of Coke and was feeling human again.

‘I don’t know,’ said Amy. She didn’t. She couldn’t work out why Chantel would enclose a picture of a park they’d never been to together. No matter how much she looked at it, she always felt she was missing something.

‘Maybe we missed something,’ said Charles, reading her mind. ‘Let’s look at the photo again.’

Amy pulled the envelope out of her bag and they both studied the picture intently. It was taken in the evening, and the sky was a hazy shade of violet with stripy clouds picking up the last orange rays of the sun. The trees were silhouetted against the skyline, the leaves abundant. It was the kind of scene she’d have painted, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

‘It’s like a painting,’ said Charles, and Amy almost jumped. ‘But if I was painting it, I’d have put the digger in the centre,’ he continued. ‘Because that’s the best bit.’

‘I like it at the edge,’ said Amy. ‘It’s more unusual than the traditional one-third, one-third, one-third composition. It’s subtle where it is. A mystery.’

‘You’re into art?’ asked Richard.

‘I used to paint,’ said Amy, feeling heat rising up her cheeks and realising, to her embarrassment, that she was blushing. ‘Now I’m an administrator at Trapper, Lemon and Hughes.’

‘I’d love to see your work.’

‘My paintings are the one thing I didn’t keep,’ said Amy. ‘I sold the ones I could and got rid of the rest.’ After it happened, she couldn’t bear to have her art in the house.

‘You can always paint more,’ said Richard.

‘No, I can’t,’ said Amy. She looked at the window, noticing the layer of dust that had accumulated there. The husk of a tiny greenfly rested there too, its wings gently swaying from the force of her breathing.

‘Ring the bell?’ asked Daniel.

‘Not till our stop,’ said Richard. ‘I’ll tell you when.’ Amy looked up from the fly and out of the window, relieved that the line of questioning was over. ‘It’s meant to be a lovely park,’ said Richard.