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2 The yellow brick road
Dorothy and Toto walked along the yellow brick road for a long time. 
When they were tired, they stopped in a field by the road. 
Not far away, there was a scarecrow, and Dorothy and Toto walked across to look at it.
‘Good day,’ said the Scarecrow.
‘Oh!’ said Dorothy. ‘You can speak!’
‘Of course I can speak,’ said the Scarecrow. ‘But I can't move, up here on this pole... I'd like to get down. Can you help me?’
Carefully, Dorothy took the Scarecrow off his pole. 
‘Thank you very much,’ said the Scarecrow. He moved his arms and legs, and straw went everywhere. 
‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘And where are you going?’
‘I'm Dorothy, and I'm going to the Emerald City. 
‘I want to go home to Kansas, but I don't know the way. I'm going to ask the Wizard of Oz for help.’
‘Where is the Emerald City?’ asked the Scarecrow. ‘And who is the Wizard of Oz? 
‘I don't know anything, you see, because I have no brains in my head— only straw.’ 
‘Oh dear!’ said Dorothy. ‘I'm very sorry.’
‘I would very much like to have some brains,’ the Scarecrow said. ‘Can I go to the Emerald City with you?
‘Perhaps the Wizard of Oz can give me some brains. What do you think?’
‘I don't know,’ said Dorothy. ‘But yes, please come with me. He's a famous wizard, so perhaps he can help you.’ 
She felt very sorry for the Scarecrow. ‘Don't be afraid of Toto,’ she said. ‘He never hurts people.’
‘Nothing can hurt me,’ said the Scarecrow. ‘I'm not afraid of anything... 
‘Well, that's not true. I am afraid of fire, of course.’
Dorothy walked along the road with her new friend. 
Soon she began to feel hungry, so she sat down and she and Toto ate some bread and apples. 
‘Would you like some, Scarecrow?’ said Dorothy.
‘No, thank you,’ said the Scarecrow.
‘I don't need to eat or drink. You can't eat when you're made of straw... Now, tell me about your home.’
So Dorothy told him about Kansas, and Uncle Henry and Aunt Em, and the cyclone.
‘But why do you want to leave this beautiful country?’ asked the Scarecrow. 
‘Kansas, you say, has no trees, no green hills, no gardens. I don't understand.’
‘That's because you have no brains,’ said Dorothy. ‘Kansas is my home. 
‘We say, “East, west— home's best”, and it's true. I want to go home.’
They walked along the road for some hours, and then it got dark. 
Dorothy was tired, and soon the Scarecrow saw a little house behind some trees. 
There was nobody there, so they went in. 
Dorothy and Toto slept, but the Scarecrow just stood all night with his eyes open.
‘Scarecrows don't sleep,’ he said.
In the morning Dorothy looked for water.
‘Why do you want water?’ asked the Scarecrow.
‘Toto and I are thirsty. And I need to wash.’
‘I'm sorry for you,’ said the Scarecrow. ‘You need a lot of things! 
‘But you have brains, and you can think, and that's wonderful.’
They found some water, and Dorothy washed. Then she and Toto ate some bread. 
Suddenly, they heard a shout from the trees near the house, and they all ran out of the house to look.
They saw a man by a big tree, with an axe in his hand. 
He was made of tin. He stood very still and shouted ‘Help!’ again and again.
‘What can I do for you?’ asked Dorothy.
‘I can't move,’ said the Tin Man. ‘Please oil me. There's an oil-can in my house.’
At once Dorothy ran back to the house and found the oil-can. 
Then she came back and, with the Scarecrow's help, she carefully oiled the Tin Man. 
Slowly, he began to move, first his head, and then his arms and legs.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I feel better now.’ He put down his axe. 
‘I went out in the rain, you see, and water is very bad for a tin body. 
‘I was there for a long time, and nobody came to help me.’
‘We stopped at your house for the night,’ Dorothy said, ‘and we heard your shout this morning.’
‘Where are you going?’ asked the Tin Man. So Dorothy told him about the Wizard of Oz. 
‘I want to go back to Kansas, and the Scarecrow wants some brains,’ she said.
The Tin Man was very interested. ‘Can the Wizard give me a heart, do you think? 
‘I have no heart, so I can't love, or feel... I would very much like to have a heart.’
‘Come with us,’ said the Scarecrow.
‘Yes,’ said Dorothy. ‘And then you can ask the Wizard for help, too.’
So they all walked along the yellow brick road. 
There were many tall trees next to the road, 
and sometimes the three friends heard noises from animals behind the trees. 
Dorothy did not like these noises very much.
‘How far is it to the Emerald City?’ she asked the Tin Man. ‘Do you know?’
‘It's a long way, I think,’ said the Tin Man. ‘And we must be careful because—’
But just then a big lion suddenly ran out from the trees, into the road. 
It opened its mouth— it had long yellow teeth— and began to run after Toto.
Dorothy was afraid for Toto. She ran up to the lion and hit it on the nose with her bag. 
‘Don't hurt my dog!’ she cried angrily. ‘He's smaller than you!’
‘I didn't hurt him,’ said the Lion. ‘Don't hit me again— please!’
‘Why— you're afraid!’ said Dorothy. ‘Be quiet, Toto, he isn't going to hurt you. 
‘He's more afraid than you are. He's just a big coward.’
‘It's true,’ said the Lion. ‘I am a coward. Everyone thinks lions are brave. 
‘I make a lot of noise, but I'm not brave. I'm just a coward.’ 
And the Cowardly Lion began to cry.
Then Dorothy told him about the Wizard of Oz. ‘Come with us to the Emerald City,’ she said. 
‘I want to go back to Kansas, the Scarecrow wants some brains, and the Tin Man wants a heart. Perhaps the Wizard of Oz can make you brave.’
‘Oh, thank you!’ said the Lion. ‘I would very much like to be brave.’
And so the Cowardly Lion came with them. 
At first Toto was afraid of him, but very soon he and the Lion were good friends.
That night Dorothy and Toto slept under a big tree, next to the Cowardly Lion's big, warm body. 
In the morning they ate the last of their bread.
‘Oh dear!’ said Dorothy. ‘What are we going to eat for dinner?’
‘I can kill an animal for you,’ said the Cowardly Lion.
‘Oh no— please don't kill anything!’ the Tin Man said. He began to cry. 
‘We don't want to hurt any animals. I haven't got a heart, but I feel sorry for them.’
Dorothy quickly got out the oil-can and oiled his face. 
‘Don't cry,’ she said. ‘You know water is bad for you.’ 
They walked along the yellow road, and after an hour or two they came to a big river.
‘Oh no!’ said Dorothy. ‘How can we get across?’
The Lion looked down at the river. ‘I'm very afraid of falling,’ he said, ‘but I think I can jump across.’
‘Good!’ said the Scarecrow at once. ‘You can carry us on your back, one at a time.’
So the Cowardly Lion jumped across the river, first with the Scarecrow on his back, then with Dorothy and Toto, and last with the Tin Man.
But soon they came to a second river. 
This one was very big, and the Lion could not jump across it. 
The Scarecrow thought for a minute. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘There's a tall tree next to the river. 
‘The Tin Man can cut it down with his axe. And when the tree falls across the river, we can walk across the tree.’ 
‘Very good,’ said the Lion. ‘For somebody with straw in their head, and not brains.’
So the Tin Man cut down the tree with his axe, and soon they were all across that river, too.

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The Wizard of Oz绿野仙踪
1 The cyclone
Dorothy lived in a small house in Kansas, with Uncle Henry, Aunt Em, and a little black dog called Toto.
There were no trees and no hills in Kansas, and it was often very windy. 
Sometimes the wind came very fast and very suddenly. 
That was a cyclone, and it could blow trees and people and buildings away. 
There were cellars under all the houses. 
And when a cyclone came, people went down into their cellars and stayed there.
One day Uncle Henry came out and looked up at the sky. 
Then he ran quickly back into the house.
‘There’s a cyclone coming,’ he called to Aunt Em and Dorothy. ‘We must go down into the cellar!’
They ran to the door of the cellar, but Toto was afraid, and he ran under the bed. Dorothy ran after him.
‘Quick!’ shouted Aunt Em from the cellar. ‘Leave the dog and come down into the cellar!’
Dorothy picked up Toto and ran to the cellar door. 
But before she got there, the cyclone hit the house.
And then a very strange thing happened.
The house moved, and then it went slowly up, up, up into the sky. 
Aunt Em and Uncle Henry were down in the cellar under the ground, but the house, Dorothy, and Toto went up to the top of the cyclone, 
Dorothy looked through the open cellar door and saw hills and houses, a long way down. 
She closed the cellar door quickly.
The wind blew the house along for many hours. At first Dorothy was afraid.
‘But we can’t do anything about it,’ she said to Toto. ‘So let’s wait and see.’ 
And after two or three hours, she and Toto went to sleep.
When Dorothy opened her eyes again, the house was on the ground and everything was quiet. 
She picked up Toto, opened the door, and went out. 
They saw tall trees and beautiful flowers, and little houses with blue doors.
Dorothy gave a little cry. ‘This isn't Kansas, Toto! And who are these people?’
There were three very short men in blue hats, coats and trousers, and a little old woman in a beautiful white dress. 
The woman walked up to Dorothy and said, ‘Thank you, thank you! Now the people are free!’
‘Why are you thanking me?’ Dorothy asked.
‘You killed the Witch of the East,’ said the woman. 
‘She was a bad witch, and her people, the Munchkins. were very afraid of her. 
‘Now she is dead, and we and the Munchkins want to thank you.’
The little old woman and the three little men all smiled happily at Dorothy, 
but Dorothy did not understand. ‘But I didn't kill anybody!’ she said.
‘Your house fell on the Witch,’ laughed the little woman. ‘Look! You can see her feet!’
Dorothy looked, and saw two feet, with red shoes, under the house. 
Suddenly, one of the Munchkins gave a shout. ‘Look! Her feet are disappearing in the hot sun.’
A second later, there were only the red shoes.
‘Good,’ said the little woman. She picked up the shoes and gave them to Dorothy. 
‘They’re your shoes now. You must wear them, because a witch's shoes can sometimes do wonderful things.’
‘Thank you,’ said Dorothy. ‘But who are you? Are you a Munchkin?’
‘No, but I'm their friend. I'm the Witch of the North, 
‘and I came to see the dead Witch of the East. 
‘But don't be afraid— I'm a good witch.’
‘But Aunt Em says there aren't any witches.’
‘Oh yes, there are!’ said the Witch. ‘Here in the country of Oz we have four witches. 
‘The witches of the North and the South are good witches, but those of the East and the West are bad witches. 
‘Now the Witch of the East is dead, so there is only one bad witch. 
‘We have a famous wizard, too. We call him the Wizard of Oz, and he lives in the Emerald City. 
‘How many witches and wizards do you have in your country?’
‘We don't have any,’ said Dorothy. 
Suddenly she remembered Aunt Em and Uncle Henry. ‘How can I get back home to Kansas?’ she asked.
‘Where is Kansas?’ asked the good Witch. ‘I don't know a country called Kansas, so I can't tell you the way.’ 
Dorothy began to cry. ‘Oh dear! What can I do?’ 
‘Please don't cry!’ said the Witch. ‘Go and see the Wizard of Oz. 
‘He's a good wizard, and perhaps he can help you. 
‘It's a long way, and you must walk there. I can't go with you, but I can give you my kiss.’
She gave Dorothy a little kiss. It looked like a small red flower on Dorothy's face.
‘Now nothing can hurt you,’ she said. ‘Look— there is the road to the Emerald City. 
‘It is made of yellow bricks, so you cannot lose your way... Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye!’ said the three little Munchkins.
In the house Dorothy found some bread and some apples, and she put them all in a bag. 
Then she put on her blue and white dress. ‘Now I look nice,’ she said. 
She looked down at her old shoes. Then she remembered the bad Witch's red shoes, and put them on.
She picked up her bag of food. ‘Come on, Toto!’ she called. ‘We're going to find the Wizard of Oz.’

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5 Home
‘Cathy! Wait for me!’ It was Duncan. He ran up behind me. I want to talk to you, Cathy. 
‘Listen— all women like Nick. I know that. But he's not a good friend for you to have. 
‘You heard him on the beach. He likes to have lots of women friends. How can you be happy with a man like that?’
‘You're wrong,’ I said slowly. ‘I stopped liking Nick weeks ago.’ 
Nick wasn't important to me now, I knew that. 
But Duncan was important to me— and I couldn't tell him. 
For a minute or two I said nothing, but the questions were still there. 
In the end I said: ‘Why didn't you tell me about Miranda's accident? Why was it a secret? I feel very upset about all this.’
‘I wanted to forget all about it,’ Duncan said slowly. ‘It was a very difficult time. 
‘Miranda and Juliet loved Nick. Juliet hated Miranda. She was afraid because Miranda wanted to live with Nick. 
‘Juliet told me about Miranda and Nick because she wanted me to stop Miranda.’
‘Juliet told me about her love for Nick. It was a secret, she said.’
‘A secret?’ Duncan laughed angrily. ‘Well, Miranda never knew about it, it's true. 
‘Juliet's very careful— she never talks about Nick. But it wasn't difficult to see. 
‘I saw her car at his farm, and I often see it there now.’
The sky was darker now. 
‘Was Juliet here, the night Miranda died?’ I asked. Perhaps Juliet killed her sister, I thought.
‘No, no. Juliet wasn't here, Nick wasn't here,’ Duncan said. 
‘I was upstairs, and the children were in bed. 
‘Then Miranda called me into our bedroom and said: “I'm going to leave you, Duncan. I'm going to live with Nick.” 
‘I was very angry and upset, but I ran downstairs into the kitchen before she fell. 
‘Cathy, nobody killed Miranda. It was an accident, a terrible accident.’ 
Duncan put his hand on my arm. ‘Can't you forget about Miranda now? Can't we begin again?’
But I couldn't answer then.
We arrived at Beach House. There was a light downstairs in the kitchen, and a light in the sitting room.
‘The children are watching television,’ Duncan said. 
We went into the house and Duncan opened the sitting room door. 
‘We're home now,’ he told the children. ‘We're going to the kitchen to make dinner.’
The kitchen was warm and quiet. Old Mrs Harvey sat in her chair. 
Suddenly, I felt afraid again. There was something terrible about old Mrs Harvey's face. 
I stood by the kitchen door; I couldn't go into the room.
‘We're back. Mother,’ Duncan said. ‘Cathy's with me; everything's all right.’
Mrs Harvey's eyes were dark in her white face. 
‘I was afraid, Duncan! I was afraid! The children love Cathy, and you love Cathy. I can see that. 
‘But Cathy loves Nick. She's going to leave you and the children. 
‘Remember Miranda! It's all happening again. I can see that.’
‘Mother! It's not true! Don't talk like this!’
‘Remember Miranda!’ Mrs Harvey said again. ‘Don't be upset, Duncan. I'm always here, you know that. 
‘I can't look after you because of my arthritis, but I love you most, you know that, and I'm going to help you again.’
Suddenly I understood it all. ‘Tell us about Miranda,’ I said quietly. ‘What did you do that night?’
Mrs Harvey looked at me then. ‘I don't want you to leave, Cathy. I want you to stay with the children and be happy with Duncan. 
‘Let me tell you about that night,’ she said, ‘and then you must stay here with us.’
The room was very quiet. Duncan held my hand, and his hand was warm and strong.
‘Miranda wanted to leave Duncan. I was upstairs in my room, and I heard her. 
‘Duncan ran downstairs and I came out of my room and talked to Miranda. 
‘She hated Duncan, and she didn't want to think about her children.’ Mrs Harvey began to cry. 
‘I pushed her. She was on the stairs, and I pushed her with my stick. 
‘She fell down the stairs, and I went back into my room. 
‘I didn't want to kill her, I wanted to break her legs. 
‘I wanted her to stay at home with Duncan. 
‘But she died, and in the end I was happy because she didn't go and live with Nick...’
Mrs Harvey talked and talked, and in the end we stopped listening to her.
‘Cathy, this is all going to be very difficult,’ Duncan said, tiredly. 
‘I must call the police and tell them about mother. Then I must talk to the children. 
‘It's going to be difficult for you, too. Are you going to leave Beach House?’
I smiled. There were no more questions in my head. 
I knew everything now about the Harvey family: there was nothing more to be afraid of. 
‘No, Duncan, I'm not going to leave.’
‘The children need you,’ he said. ‘You know that. But I need you too. 
‘I want you to be with me. But can we be happy after all this?’
‘Of course we can,’ I told him. ‘Things are going to get better now, for all of us.’
He put his arms around me. He kissed me then, and I found my home in his arms.

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4 Not one of the family
Winter came. 
The weather was cold and windy, 
but sometimes when the weather was a little better I walked on the beach with the children. 
Two or three times I saw Nick and he smiled and we talked a little. 
I liked Nick, but I was angry with him because of Juliet, and he didn't ask me to dinner again.
School finished for Christmas, and I drove the children to a farm near Cromer to buy a Christmas tree. 
After my mother and father died, Christmas was a bad time for me because I was lonely. 
‘But this year,’ I thought, ‘I'm going to be with the Harvey family. 
‘Perhaps I can forget about Miranda's accident and feel happy at Christmas.’
‘Christmas is coming! Christmas is coming!’ the children sang. They were very happy about Christmas.
We walked through the farm and looked at the Christmas trees. 
Tim ran up and down. ‘I want this tree, Cathy!’ he called. 
Then he ran up and down again. ‘I want this tree, Cathy!’ he called again.
Suddenly he ran into a tree and then fell over. 
When he fell, his head hit a second tree. He began to cry.
I ran to him. There was a long cut on his head and a lot of blood.
‘Don't cry, Tim. You're going to be all right,’ I said quietly. ‘Let's go to the hospital and see the doctor.’
‘Oh no!’ cried Susan. ‘The hospital! Is Tim going to die?’
‘No, no. Tim's going to be all right. But the doctor must look at this cut on his head,’ I said. 
I carried Tim to the car and drove quickly to the hospital.
After we saw the doctor, I phoned Duncan and he came to the hospital.
Susan ran to him. ‘Daddy, there was an accident, and there was a lot of blood. Is he going to die?’
Duncan sat down. His face was white, but he smiled at Susan and Tim. 
‘Tim's going to be OK. Look at him! He's feeling much better now.’
Duncan put his arm around me. ‘Thank you, Cathy,’ he said. ‘You're very good with the children. 
‘Beach House is a happier home now, with you there.’ 
Slowly we walked out of the hospital. 
‘Please come home in the car with us,’ Duncan said. ‘We can come back later for your car. Please.’ 
I liked Duncan then, and I wanted to go with him and the children. 
But I was afraid, too, because of Miranda's accident. 
I didn't want to talk to him, and so I went home in my car.
The next day Juliet came to see Tim. 
She played with the children and then she stayed for dinner. 
After the children went to bed, she came to see me in my room.
‘I'm sorry, Cathy,’ she began. ‘I wanted to see you, but I was afraid because you're angry with me.’
‘Yes, I am angry,’ I said slowly. ‘You were my friend. 
‘I went to dinner with Nick and I told you everything, But you didn't tell me about you and Nick. Why not?’
Juliet looked at me but said nothing.
‘Why didn't Nick tell me about you? Did he tell you about our dinner?’
‘Yes. I was upset, but Nick likes to talk to women. 
‘He likes you and he wanted to take you to dinner. But he loves me and nothing is going to change that.’ 
She stopped. ‘I told Grandma about your dinner with Nick, because I didn't want you to be friends with Nick.’
‘You don't want her to know about you and Nick, but you told her about my dinner with Nick! Why? I don't understand!’
‘I'm sorry. I love him very much; he's everything to me. 
‘But our love is a secret. Duncan hates Nick, and I don't want him to know about our love.’
‘There are a lot of secrets in this family,’ I said. ‘Secrets about you and Nick. 
‘Secrets about Miranda. Why didn't you tell me about Miranda's accident?’
‘How do you know about that?’ Juliet asked.
‘I went to the library and read about it in the newspapers.’
Juliet stood up. ‘Nobody talks about Miranda's accident,’ she said. ‘Nobody saw her when she fell down the stairs.’
I wanted to ask about Duncan. I wanted to ask: ‘Why did the police question Duncan?’ but I was afraid of the answer. 
‘Well, I don't like living with all these secrets,’ I said. ‘Every time I go downstairs I remember Miranda.’
Juliet laughed then, and it was a cold laugh. 
‘We all live with that, Cathy. You're not one of the family; you're not going to fall downstairs.’
Tim felt better the next day, and in the afternoon Duncan took the children back to the farm to buy the Christmas tree. 
And then I phoned Nick. ‘I want to talk to you,’ I said quietly. ‘I need to talk to someone.’
‘Mmm,’ said Nick. ‘Let's meet on the beach. At three o’clock.’
I waited in my room and listened to the sea and the wind. 
Perhaps Juliet was with Nick. I didn't know, but I needed to talk to someone about the Harvey family. 
I walked slowly across the field and down the hill to the beach. 
It was a cold afternoon and there was a strong wind. The sea was dark. 
Nick wasn't there; perhaps he didn't want to talk to me. But in the end he arrived.
‘What's the matter?’ he asked.
‘I talked to Juliet last night,’ I began. ‘About Miranda. 
‘I don't know why, but I feel afraid. What do you know about Miranda's accident?’
‘The police questioned Duncan,’ Nick said. His blue eyes looked past me. 
Suddenly his face changed. ‘Duncan's here. Did you tell him to come?’
‘No, I didn't. He left the house before I called you.’ 
Duncan ran down the hill. ‘Cathy!’ he called.
‘What are you doing here?’ Nick said angrily. ‘Cathy wants to talk to me.’
‘Cathy, come home,’ Duncan said quietly.
‘She's not going back with you. She's afraid of you.’
‘Afraid of me? Why?’ I said nothing. Duncan's face was angry.
‘Why don't you tell us about Miranda?’ Nick asked. His face was angry, too. 
‘I want to ask you something. The police questioned you, Duncan. What did you tell them about that night?’
‘So you're asking me about Miranda,’ Duncan shouted. ‘You remember Miranda, then? 
‘Well, I remember, too. I remember her every day.’ 
Duncan looked at me, and then back at Nick. ‘You think I killed Miranda? Go to the police, then, and tell them that. 
‘Yes, I hated her, and I hated you, too, Nick. She wanted to leave me and the children because of you. 
‘She loved you. She told me that. But did you love her, Nick?’
‘Of course I didn't,’ Nick said. His face was red. 
‘I liked Miranda. We went to dinner four or five times, that's all. She was lonely.’ 
He looked at me. His eyes were very blue, but suddenly I didn't like his eyes and I didn't like his face.
‘She wanted to leave me and her children, but you didn't love her,’ Duncan said. 
‘You loved her sister. I know that. But Miranda didn't know about you and Juliet. Why didn't you tell her?’
I didn't want to listen. I felt ill and very cold, 
and I began to walk back up the hill. 
I wanted to go home, but where was my home? I didn't have one.

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3 A terrible accident
Duncan came back and worked at home again. 
Why did he hate Nick? I wanted to understand, but I couldn't ask because I was a little afraid of Duncan. 
He didn't talk much and he worked for hours in his room.
Old Mrs Harvey liked to cook, but because of her arthritis she couldn't cook much and she couldn't look after the children and the house. 
She often felt upset because of this. 
But she was much happier with Duncan at home. 
She smiled more and she cooked breakfast for him nearly every day. 
Sometimes she made bread. 
Duncan was kind to his mother and he played with the children every day. 
He drove them to school every morning and I drove them home in the afternoons.
One Friday afternoon I drove away from Beach House past Nick's farm. 
Just then, I saw Nick's Landrover on the farm road. 
‘He's driving very fast,’ I thought. ‘Oh no! He's not going to stop—’ 
And he didn't. He drove out of the farm road and very nearly hit my car. 
I couldn't stop, so I drove off the road and the Landrover went past, only centimetres away.
The Landrover stopped. Nick got out, ran back to my car, and opened the door. ‘Cathy! Are you all right?’
Then I saw a girl in the Landrover. It was Juliet. She got out and came up to us.
‘You must drive more carefully, Nick!’ she said angrily. ‘You nearly hit Cathy then.’ 
She wore a beautiful red coat and black trousers. 
Her dark eyes were angry, but they looked at Nick and not at me.
‘Cathy's all right,’ he said to her. He put his hand on her arm. 
His blue eyes were kind, but they looked at Juliet and not at me.
‘We don't want more accidents,’ Juliet said quietly. ‘Remember Miranda.’
‘Please move your Landrover,’ I said coldly. ‘I must get to school for the children. I'm going to be late.’
‘Don't be angry.’ Nick smiled at me. ‘I'm very sorry.’ 
He got back into the Landrover and moved it. 
Juliet stood by my car. ‘So you and Nick are friends,’ I said to her. ‘You didn't tell me about that.’
Juliet said nothing for a minute. ‘You don't understand,’ she said in the end. ‘It's very difficult.’
I drove back on to the road. I nearly cried, and I felt very angry. 
Juliet was my friend. I had coffee with her and went to the cinema with her, 
but she said nothing about Nick. Why not? 
I had dinner with Nick and we talked all evening, but he said nothing about Juliet. Why not? 
I felt angry with Juliet and with Nick.
That evening Mrs Harvey's arthritis was bad and she went to bed early. 
Duncan cooked dinner and I ate with him and the children. 
Duncan talked and laughed with the children and I felt happy to he with them. 
Once, I felt Duncan's eyes on me, and suddenly my face felt hot. 
I didn't want to think about Juliet and Nick.
But later, in my room, I remembered Juliet's angry face and eyes. 
We don't want more accidents. Remember Miranda. 
Then I remembered old Mrs Harvey in London. 
The children's mother died two years ago. She told me that, but she didn't tell me about an accident. 
Perhaps it was a car accident? Perhaps Nick killed Miranda with his Landrover? 
Duncan hates Nick. Mrs Harvey told me that, too. 
Did Duncan hate Nick because Nick killed Miranda?
I slept in the end, but I didn't sleep well. 
The next day was Saturday and I was free in the morning. 
Duncan went to the shops with the children and I went to the library in Cromer. 
Miranda died on 30th September, two years ago. I knew that. 
Perhaps the town's newspaper wrote about her after she died. 
I must find something about her because I wanted to understand the Harvey family.
I found the old newspapers and began to read. 
The newspaper of 1st October told me everything.
YOUNG MOTHER DIES IN TERRIBLE ACCIDENT 
Miranda Harvey, aged 26, fell down the stairs at her home and died later in hospital. 
Miranda lived with her husband and two children not far from Cromer. 
Duncan Harvey's mother lives with them. 
‘This is a terrible day for the Harvey family,’ she said. 
‘We all loved Miranda very much, and now her two little children are without a mother.’
Juliet, aged 24, Miranda's sister, is a teacher at one of the schools in Cromer. 
‘My sister was a wonderful mother,’ she said, ‘and a loving sister to me.’
I sat with my head in my hands. I could not move. 
We don't want more accidents. Remember Miranda. It wasn't a car accident; 
Miranda, that wonderful mother, fell down the stairs at Beach House— 
and I ran up and down those stairs six or seven times a day.
Then I looked at some of the later newspapers.
POLICE QUESTION DUNCAN HARVEY 
Harvey, aged 34, was at home on the day of his wife's accident. 
He was upstairs with her before she fell. Then he went downstairs to the kitchen. 
How did the accident happen? Harvey does not know. He heard nothing, he says.
The police questioned Duncan for two days, I read, but in the end he went home to his children. 
It wasn't Nick, in his Landrover. Miranda died at home, and the police questioned Duncan. 
My hands were cold, my legs were cold, and I felt afraid.
Things were different at Beach House after my visit to the library. 
The house was a house with a secret, and the Harveys were a family with a secret. 
I thought about Miranda and the accident every day. 
I wanted to talk to someone about it, but I was afraid. 
Why did the police question Duncan? 
Be careful at Beach House. Why did Nick say that to me? 
Was it because of Miranda's accident? There were more questions in my head now. 
And the biggest question was this: did Miranda fall— or did someone push her?

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Remember Miranda难忘米兰达
1 Beach House
The children and their father remember Miranda, of course, and they talk about her sometimes. 
Miranda's sister often visits us, and she always tells the children a story about their mother. 
Nick remembers Miranda; I know he does. 
And in the hospital. Grandma remembers, too. 
They all remember Miranda.
I never met Miranda, but every day I look at her photograph, 
next to the telephone in the kitchen, the picture of her with her children. 
Every day I look at her beautiful dark eyes and her long dark hair.
I first saw Miranda's photograph two years ago. 
It was a cold October day, and I left London for my new job with a family in Norfolk. 
I drove north, past Norwich, and it began to rain. 
It was dark and there was a strong wind so I drove slowly and carefully. 
I wanted to see the Harvey children before they went to bed. 
But because of the weather, it was eight o’clock before I arrived in Cromer.
I drove through the town, along the sea road.
Suddenly, I stopped. There was a tree across the road. 
I got out of my car. It was a big tree, and I couldn't move it. 
Just then, a car drove up behind me and a man got out.
‘What's the matter? Oh— a tree across the road.’ 
He was a tall man, about thirty years old. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked.
‘Not far,’ I said. ‘It's a house along this road, near the sea. It's called Beach House.’
‘Oh, I know Beach House,’ the man said. ‘It's the last house along this road. 
‘But you can't drive there tonight, with this tree across the road.’ 
He stopped for a minute. ‘I’m Nick Watson, and I live at the farm along the road. 
‘We can go back to my house, and then walk across the fields to Beach House. 
‘Are you visiting for the weekend?’
‘No, no. I’m going to work in the house and look after Mr Harvey's children. 
‘Their mother died two years ago, and their grandmother has arthritis in her legs and can't walk much now. 
‘So I’m going to look after the children and the house,’ I told him.
‘I met old Mrs Harvey in London, six weeks ago, and she gave me the job. Do you know the Harveys?’
The man laughed. His laugh was warm and friendly. ‘Oh, yes, I know them,’ he said.
We drove back down the road and into the farm. Then we walked across the fields. 
It was dark and windy and cold. 
After ten minutes we arrived at a big white house. 
The lights were on downstairs, and the house looked friendly. 
I had no home because my mother and father died a long time ago, and I had no brothers or sisters. 
This was my first job and I wanted to be happy in this house.
A man opened the door. He looked tired and there was no smile on his face.
‘Hello, I'm Cathy Wilson,’ I began. ‘I'm very late, I know. It's because the weather's so bad.’
‘There's a tree down across the road,’ Nick said. ‘So Cathy left her car at the farm and we walked here.’
Duncan Harvey looked at Nick. ‘You always want to help,’ he said coldly. 
‘And you're always there at the right time, ready to help.’
His face was angry and I didn't understand why.
‘The wind's very strong..." I began. ‘It doesn't matter,’ Nick said. 
He smiled at me and his eyes were very blue. ‘Goodbye, Cathy. Come and get your car tomorrow.’
Duncan said nothing. I went into the house and he took me through into the kitchen.
‘Mother, here's Cathy,’ he said. Old Mrs Harvey sat near the window. 
‘Hello, my dear,’ she said warmly. ‘What a wind! Come and have something to eat.’ 
She stood up and walked slowly across the room. 
Her hair was white, and she had a stick because of her bad legs.
I sat down and began to eat.
‘Duncan is angry because he doesn't like Nick,’ Mrs Harvey told me quietly. ‘He's not angry with you.’
Why didn't Duncan like Nick? I thought. 
I didn't understand, but I didn't like to ask Mrs Harvey.
The next morning I met the children. 
Tim was five years old. He ran up and down the garden with a football. 
Susan was seven years old, a quiet little girl with big brown eyes. 
She watched me carefully but she didn't smile.
The weather changed and the sun was warm. 
In the afternoon I walked with the children by the sea. 
The sky was blue and the sea was beautiful. 
I cooked dinner and we all ate in the kitchen.
After dinner Juliet arrived.
‘I left my car at Nick's,’ she said. ‘There's a tree across the road.’ 
Juliet had long black hair and dark eyes. She was Miranda's sister.
‘Miranda was wonderful,’ she told me. ‘Wonderful and beautiful.’
‘Yes, I know,’ I said quietly. ‘I saw the photograph of her, next to the telephone, with Tim and Susan.’
‘Miranda is our mummy,’ Susan said. ‘She died a long time ago.’
‘Let's go to the cinema,’ Juliet said suddenly. ‘I want to take Susan and Tim. Cathy, you come with us.’
Tim began to shout. ‘Let's go to the cinema! Let's go to the cinema!’
‘Be quiet, Tim!’ Duncan said. He looked angry.
‘No, Juliet. It's school tomorrow, and the children must go to bed early.’
Tim began to cry. ‘I want to go with Juliet,’ he said. ‘No, Tim,’ Duncan said.
‘We can go to the cinema next weekend,’ I said quickly. 
‘Let's play with your little cars now.’ And soon Tim stopped crying.
The days went quickly. 
Duncan went to stay in London for three weeks for his work. 
He had a job with a big London company. 
He often worked on his computer at home, but he went away a lot, too. 
I liked the children and I liked old Mrs Harvey, but I had no friends.
One day, I came out of a shop in Cromer, and there was Juliet!
‘Hello!’ she said. ‘It's good to see you! Let's go and have a coffee, and we can talk.’
And we did. 
Juliet told me about her teaching job, and she talked about Susan and Tim, and she talked about her sister.
‘I often visited Miranda at Beach House because she wasn't happy there,’ Juliet said quietly. 
‘Duncan is a difficult man; you can see that. He loved her, of course, but he was often away in London. 
‘She loved the children, and Grandma, but she was very lonely.’
I was lonely, too, at Beach House.
Juliet stood up and smiled warmly. ‘I must go now. 
‘Let's go to the cinema this weekend with the children. Ask Grandma tonight, and ring me.’
And so I found a friend.

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6 A surprise visitor
The next three weeks are busy. 
I have a new case to work on, and I'm out of the office nearly every day. 
I don't like the client very much, but the case is an interesting one.
On Saturday morning I'm in the office again. 
I have a lot of emails to write, so I'm not pleased when my doorbell rings.
The computer screen shows me a man at the door. 
Well, well, well, what a surprise! 
I hit the ‘open door’ button, and the man comes in.
‘Mr Williams, good morning. How are you?’ I say. What does he want?
‘Morning, Ms Homes.’ He's not friendly, he's not unfriendly. 
He looks around my little room. ‘Nice office,’ he says. ‘Can you see the river from your window?’ 
He walks to the window, looks out. 
What does he want? Does he just want to talk about my office? Maybe the weather's next...
‘It's colder today,’ he says. ‘Autumn's coming.’
I wait. He comes away from the window. ‘Can I sit down? Just for a minute.’
‘Of course. Please,’ I say.
Now he looks at me. ‘I just wanted to say... Well, you were right about Tomas Varnas. 
‘He's a fine young man. I like him a lot.’
‘Well, that's great, Mr Williams. I'm very pleased. So, tell me. What happened?’
He smiles, and gets comfortable in my best chair. 
He wants to tell me all about it.
‘We asked him to Sunday lunch. Like you said. 
‘And he and Carrie came to lunch, and stayed all day. 
‘Lots to talk about.’ He laughs. ‘Me and Carrie have an argument, of course, but we always do. 
‘Tom- I call him Tom now, you see- is very good for Carrie. 
‘He doesn't get excited, and angry, like Carrie does. 
‘And Carrie listens to him.’ He laughs again. ‘She never listens to me!’
I smile, and say something about the father-daughter thing.
‘So Carrie's back home with us now. 
‘Tom comes round every evening, of course. And weekends. 
‘He's out with Darren now, playing football. Darren thinks he's wonderful!’
‘Tomas is a big brother for Darren,’ I say.
‘That's right,’ says Mr Williams. ‘Oh, and Carrie's back at school too. 
‘She wants to do business studies, then she can help Tom with his linen business. 
‘She's got a good head for business, you know.’ He laughs. ‘My little Carrie- a businesswoman!’
He stands up. ‘Well, you're busy, I can see that. I just wanted to tell you about Tom.’
‘I like good news, Mr Williams,’ I say. ‘And it was good of you to come.’ 
I walk with him to the door.
At the door, he says, ‘You helped my family a lot. Maybe one day you need help. 
‘Just call me.’ He gives me his business card. ‘Anything. Who knows?’
Who knows? I'm going to remember those words...

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5 A foot in the door
Saheed and I have a beer together, and I tell him all about the Lithuanian case.
‘A father-daughter problem, eh?’ says Saheed. ‘Well, I know all about difficult fathers.’
Saheed is from an Indian family. 
He and his sister Leila have their problems with a difficult father too. 
But Saheed never talks about his problems. He just does his job. He's a good detective.
‘So. You did a good job there. A happy ending,’ says Saheed. 
‘Yes, and no,’ I say. ‘One more thing to do.’
We finish our beer and leave.
‘Say hi to Leila for me,’ I say. Leila is my best friend. She's a lawyer. 
Leila, Saheed, and I have a lot of arguments about the law, and the police, and private investigators. 
We have a good time. I'm always right, of course.
The next day is Saturday. 
I do some work on my laptop in the office, and think about the Lithuanian case. 
How many young men are there like Tomas Varnas?
I think about it some more, then I leave, and walk to the Williams’ house. 
It's not far from my office.
Mrs Williams opens the door, sees me, and tries to shut the door again. 
But my foot is in the door... ‘Can I come in, Mrs Williams?’ I say. ‘Just for a minute.’
‘It's Saturday. My husband's at home,’ Edith Williams says. ‘Please speak quietly! 
‘Look, I've got your money ready- here it is. And thank you, thank you. 
‘Carrie is texting me every day now, so I know she's all right. Please go now, please don't—’
‘Who's that at the door, Edith?’ It's a man's voice, a big strong voice.
‘Oh, nobody,’ Mrs Williams says quickly, 
but I'm inside the door now, and looking at Mr Williams.
‘Oh, hello,’ he says. ‘Who are you?’
‘Shirley Homes, private investigator. How do you do? 
‘Your wife wanted me to find Carrie. And to talk to her boyfriend.’
‘What!’ Mr Williams turns to his wife. ‘What did I say to you, Edith?’ he shouts. 
‘We're finished with that girl! We don't speak to her, we don't talk about her, we—’
‘And it's good news, Mr Williams!’ I use my head teacher voice again. 
He's still shouting at his wife, so I shout too. And smile and smile.
‘Yes, it's very good news, Mr Williams. Your daughter Carrie is alive and well and living in London. 
‘And she has a wonderful boyfriend!’
Mr Williams stops shouting and stares at me. 
Behind him I can just see Darren's head. He's looking round a door, with big eyes.
‘Carrie's boyfriend is a very nice young man. His name is Tomas Varnas, 
‘he's nineteen years old, he's a hard worker, he's kind...’
‘He's a foreigner,’ Mr Williams says angrily.
‘You have a problem with foreigners?’ I say.
Mrs Williams closes her eyes. She's waiting for something...  
What? A lot of bad language about foreigners from her husband?
I look at Mr Williams again, but he isn't saying anything.
He's just staring at me angrily. And suddenly, I understand. 
His problem isn't with foreigners, it's with his daughter. 
He wants to know that Carrie is all right, he wants to hear about her boyfriend, 
he wants to see her, to have her back home. 
But he can't find the words. He just can't say it.
I speak quickly. ‘Tomas is a very nice young man.’ I say it again, it's an important message. 
‘He works hard, he's doing two jobs, and he's going to make a good life for him and Carrie. 
‘He speaks very good English, and he's kind, and he's funny, but he's strong too. 
‘He thinks family is important, and he wants Carrie to come back home, to be friends with her mother, her father, her brother...’
All three of them are listening to me now. 
Darren has a big smile on his face.
‘Oh, and Carrie is living with Tomas's sister, not with Tomas, you know. 
‘Carrie wants to get married when she's sixteen next year, but Tomas wants to wait. 
‘He wants to meet the family, and he wants Carrie to meet his family. 
‘So you see- Tomas Varnas is a good man, a really good man. 
‘He's a boyfriend to please any father in Britain, Mr Williams.’
Carrie's father opens his mouth, and closes it again. He still can't find the words.
‘So now you know all about him, Mr Williams. Meet him. Talk to him. Ask him to Sunday lunch.’
I turn to Mrs Williams. ‘Do you usually have Sunday lunch, you know, that wonderful British meal? All foreigners love it.’
‘Er, yes,’ she says. ‘I... er... yes, I always do a nice Sunday lunch.’
‘Well, there you are then,’ I say. I smile around at everybody. 
‘Sunday lunch. That's a good way to meet your daughter's boyfriend.’
I take my money from Mrs Williams, give Darren a big smile and a wave, and walk to the front door. 
Nobody's shouting, nobody's crying. 
So far, so good.
‘Have a nice day, everyone!’ I say, and close the door behind me.

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4 The boyfriend
The next day I'm in the street in my car, opposite the house. 
I have a cup of coffee, a newspaper, and a lot of time. 
I want to see Tomas, and talk to him. 
Then I can make my report to Mrs Williams, and the job is finished.
At 17.45 Carrie walks down the street, and goes into the house. 
I'm watching carefully now. 
People are coming home from work... in cars, on bicycles, on foot. Lots to watch. 
Two people go into the house, a young woman and a short, older man with white hair.
At 18.25 a young man walks down the street. Tall, with dark hair. 
He walks to the front door, and in two seconds I'm out of the car, across the street, and standing behind him at the door. 
He opens the door, and turns to look at me.
‘Hi!’ I say. ‘OK to come in? I'm visiting Mike Westerbrook at number six.’
‘Yes, that's OK,’ the young man says. 
He holds the door open for me, and we walk up the stairs together.
‘Nice and sunny today,’ I say. ‘But rain's coming in later, they say.’ ‘Mmm,’ says the young man.
At the top of the stairs he turns to the door with number 4 on it, gets out his key, and opens the door. 
Suddenly, I run back to him.
‘Hey, excuse me! Is this yours? It was on the floor.’ 
In my hand I'm holding a weekly bus ticket. 
It's more than two months old, but he can't see that because I've got my hand over the date.
He looks at the ticket, and I look through the open door of number 4... and see Carrie in the room. 
Then I'm through the door and inside the apartment.
‘Hey!’ the young man shouts at me. ‘What are you doing? Who are you? Get out!’
I turn to Carrie. ‘Hello, Carrie,’ I say. ‘Did you text your mum last night?’
The young man is next to me now. 
‘Who is this?’ he says to Carrie. ‘What's this about?’ He stares at me angrily.
Carrie looks angry too. ‘She's a private investigator,’ she tells the young man. 
‘Mum sent her. I talked to her yesterday in the cafe. I told you, remember?’
‘Ah!’ The young man suddenly smiles. He has a very nice smile. 
‘How exciting! I never met a private investigator before. 
‘How do you do? I am Tomas Varnas, and I'm very pleased to meet you.’
He holds out his hand, and we shake hands. 
Wrong name, I think. Not the name on the door. But this is the Lithuanian boyfriend.
‘Shirley Homes. Pleased to meet you too,’ I say. ‘I'm sorry about this. But I need to talk to you. Carrie's mother—’
‘Of course,’ says Tomas. ‘I understand. Please- sit down. Can I get you some coffee?’
He and Carrie make coffee, and we all sit down round a table. 
Tomas looks at me, smiling.
‘So,’ he says. ‘You want to ask me questions, so you can tell Carrie's mother all about me. 
‘I am very happy about that. What do you want to know? Shall I begin?’
So I listen to the story of Tomas Varnas's life. 
He is nineteen years old, and comes from Vilnius in Lithuania. 
He came to London six months ago because he wants to start a business. 
His family make linen cloth in Vilnius, and Tomas wants to sell it in England. 
At the moment he's working Monday to Friday in a hospital because he needs the money. 
But he's selling linen in the street market on Saturdays. 
Business is good, and is getting better every week.
Carrie wants to tell me more about it. ‘It's beautiful linen, you know. 
‘The best in the world. I'm learning all about it.’ 
She's excited, I can see it in her green eyes.
Tomas is smiling. ‘Carrie is very good with the colours of the linen,’ he says. 
‘She wants to work with me. And she's good at business too- very good. Better than me.’
He puts the back of his hand against Carrie's face, just a touch, a very gentle touch, and smiles into her eyes. 
She looks up at him, and the love in her eyes is clear. 
For a second or two the world stops for them. 
These two young people are very much in love.
Carrie looks at me again. ‘Everybody wants to wear clothes made of linen now, you see. So our business is going to get bigger.’
‘Lots of hard work,’ says Tomas. ‘But we're young, we can work hard, no problem about that. 
‘But we do have one problem.’ He looks at Carrie. ‘Your family.’
‘Oh, that!’ Carrie says. ‘Not important. I don't need them. We're fine without them.’
‘Not so,’ Tomas says gently. ‘Your mother is unhappy, your little brother is unhappy, and your father too.’
‘No, he isn't! My father is a horrible man! We have arguments all the time. 
‘Every day he tells me, “do this, don't do that, do this.” 
‘He's always right, and I'm always wrong! Always! He never listens to me.
‘He doesn't understand me, he doesn't want to understand me. He's just horrible...’ 
‘Shhh, shhh,’ Tomas says. ‘When people are angry, sometimes they say bad things. Maybe they don't really think that. 
‘You and your father have a lot of arguments, and you both get angry and say things.’ Yes, but...’ Carrie says.
I sit and listen. This is not their first argument, and it's not going to be their last one. 
It's interesting to listen to them. 
Tomas is very gentle with Carrie, but he's strong too. 
He's in love, but he still thinks clearly.
‘Er, excuse me,’ I say. ‘I'm still here, you know.’
They look at me. Tomas laughs. ‘Sorry!’ he says. 
‘We talk about this often. In the end, Carrie must go back home. She knows that.’
‘No, I don't!’ says Carrie. ‘I'm not going back home. No way!’
‘But Carrie- you can't cut your family out of your life. Family is important. 
‘My family is important to me. And I want you to have your family too... 
‘to be friends with your mother, and your father. And your little brother!’
They're off again. I'm trying not to smile. 
This argument is going to run and run. I think Tomas is good for Carrie.
‘Well, I'm done here,’ I say. ‘It was good to meet you, Tomas. 
‘I can tell Mrs Williams about you now. And, well... good luck to both of you.’
Carrie smiles. ‘Thanks, Shirley. Can I call you Shirley? 
‘Ant and Janice said you were all right. I sent mum a text last night, you know.’
Tomas stands up too. ‘I must get home now,’ he says.
I stare at him, surprised. ‘Home? You live here, in this apartment. Don't you?’
‘No, no, no,’ Tomas says. ‘Of course not! Carrie is fifteen. 
‘We cannot marry before she is sixteen years old. It is against the law. 
‘So of course I don't live here. It is not correct.’
‘But this is your apartment—?’ ‘No, no,’ Tomas says again. ‘It's my sister's apartment.
‘Carrie lives here with my sister, Ruta Varnaite. She's working late tonight. 
‘I have a room with a friend near Putney Bridge.’
I'm very surprised. I sit down again and look at Carrie. 
‘Why didn't you tell me? Everybody thinks you're living with Tomas.’
Carrie doesn't look pleased. ‘Well, I didn't tell them that. But my dad always thinks the worst. 
‘And sometimes my mum too. But we can get married next year, when I'm sixteen.’
Tomas laughs. He pulls her hair, gently. 
‘Sixteen is still very young to get married. We can wait.
‘I want to know your family first, and you want to know my family.’
‘Yes, I really want to meet your family,’ Carrie says. ‘But you don't want to meet mine, you really don't.’
Tomas pulls her hair again, not so gently this time. ‘Of course I do. 
‘I want to talk to your father, I want him to like me. 
‘We have all the time in the world, Carrie. Let's just take our time, eh?’
Carrie tries to look angry, then she laughs, and puts her arms around him.
Tomas and I leave the house together. He walks with me to my car.
‘I'm sorry about Mr Williams,’ he says. ‘I think he loves Carrie a lot. Maybe I can meet him and talk to him one day. 
‘But Mrs Williams doesn't need to be afraid for Carrie. Please tell her that.’
‘Of course,’ I say. I've got a lot to say to Mrs Williams. 
Tomas and I shake hands again, and say goodbye.
I drive back to my office, and check my messages. 
There's a message from Saheed. Call me about the Lithuanian boyfriend.
I send him a text. Found the boyfriend, thanks. And the girl. All well, no problems.
Easy case, nothing horrible. But thanks for the help! SH
A text comes back from Saheed at once. Oh, thanks a lot! 
I made 12 phone calls for you, all for nothing! 
Next time, YOU can help ME! SP
Oh dear! Saheed is not pleased. 
I often need his help so I must be nice to him. 
I send him another text. Sorry! Really really sorry! 
Can I buy you a beer tonight? SH
A text comes back from him. OK. The King's Arms, by the river.
9 o'clock this evening. See you. SP

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3 Talking to Carrie
Carrie doesn't come the first evening. 
I sit there for two hours, and drink a lot of coffee. 
Five big cups, black, no sugar. 
It's a good thing I like coffee.
But she comes the second evening. 
I'm sitting with my back to the wall, watching the door. 
Through the cafe window I see Ant in her black clothes. 
She's walking past, slowly, looking into the cafe. 
A minute or two later Carrie comes in, and walks over to my table. 
Red hair, green eyes, no smile. 
I stand up. ‘Hi, Carrie. I'm Shirley Homes. Thanks for coming. 
‘Have a seat. Can I get you a coffee, or a tea?’
I'm using my head teacher voice. Right, girls, sit down. Open your books. Get to work. 
I don't want Carrie to have time to think.
She doesn't want coffee, or tea. She wants to have an argument.
‘I'm not going home,’ she says. ‘So you can forget that. 
‘I don't need my family. I have a new life now.’
I watch her face, and she stares back at me with angry green eyes. 
I don't think Carrie is in trouble. 
Carrie knows what she wants, and Carrie gets what she wants. 
I think Carrie makes trouble. 
I begin to feel sorry for the boyfriend.
‘Why are you here, Carrie?’ I say. ‘What did your friends say to you?’
She doesn't answer, just looks at me.
‘Did they tell you about your mum- crying all night because her little girl is living on the streets, 
‘because her little girl is taking drugs, because her little girl is in big, big trouble—’
Suddenly, Carrie has a lot to say. 
‘I'm NOT living on the streets!’ she shouts at me. 
‘And I don't do drugs- I NEVER do drugs! 
‘Who told you all this? It's NOT TRUE!’
People in the cafe turn their heads to look at us. 
I smile around at everybody. 
A smile to say. Everything's fine here. Just a big sister, little sister argument. 
Happens all the time. Enjoy your coffee, have a nice day...
I look back at Carrie's angry face.
‘But your mum doesn't know that,’ I say quietly. 
‘At night, when she can't sleep, she thinks about those things. 
‘You're only fifteen, Carrie, and it's a big bad world out there. 
‘Of course your mum is afraid for you.’
Carrie looks down at the table. ‘Yeah. Well...’ 
She looks up. ‘But I'm OK. I'm fine. You can tell her that.’
‘Why don't you tell her?’ I say. ‘Call her. Text her.’ 
Carrie stares at me. ‘Who sent you?’ she says. ‘Mum? Or was it my dad?’ ‘Your mum.’
‘Look, I'm not texting mum, because I don't want my dad to know. I don't want to see him again, ever.’
‘We're not talking about your dad,’ I say quickly. ‘I know all about your dad. We're talking about your mum. 
‘And your mum needs to know you're all right. But she needs to hear it from you, not me. 
‘She texts you every day, you know. And you never text back. Never.’
Carrie looks away. ‘I got a new mobile, and changed my number. I never got her texts.’
I laugh. ‘Very good, Carrie. You read detective stories, right? 
‘Always change your mobile when you don't want people to find you. Dangerous things, mobile phones.’ 
Carrie nearly smiles. ‘Tomas says—’ she begins, then stops.
‘Is Tomas your boyfriend?’ I say. ‘The one from Lithuania? Are you still with him?’
‘Of course I'm still with him!’ Carrie is angry again. ‘I love him and he loves me. We're in love!’
I try not to smile. How wonderful to be fifteen, and in love for the first time!
‘That's great,’ I say. ‘I'm happy for you. 
‘But please, please text your mum. Tell her you're all right.’
‘OK,’ says Carrie. ‘This evening.’ 
She looks at her watch and stands up. ‘I must go. I'm meeting someone.’
‘Thanks for coming, Carrie. And remember that text.’ 
She walks out of the cafe, and fifteen seconds later I'm following her. 
She's walking down the High Street, maybe to the bus station. 
I've got a minute, but I must be quick.
A private investigator always needs to carry a big bag. 
I stop by a shop window, and open my bag. 
Three seconds later, I'm wearing a blue T-shirt over my red T-shirt. 
In another five seconds, I have a wig on, 
and my short black hair is now long blond hair. 
Now I'm walking away from the shop window, and I'm wearing glasses. 
My big brown bag is now inside a small black backpack. 
No time to change the shoes. 
Carrie is a long way down the street. 
I walk fast, nearly running, and watch her red head in front of me.
When I get to the bus station, I can't see her at first, and walk quickly past all the people waiting. 
She's there, waiting for the number 71 bus. 
I wait too, about twenty metres away, 
and I'm reading the evening newspaper with great interest. 
(A private investigator always has today's newspaper in their bag.) 
But Carrie doesn't look round.
When the bus comes, Carrie goes upstairs. 
This is good news for me because I can sit downstairs, at the back of the bus. 
I can see Carrie when she gets off, but she can't see me.
It's a short bus ride, only ten minutes. 
Carrie gets off the bus, and turns left into a small street. 
I'm thirty metres behind her. 
Carrie looks round, once, and sees someone with blond hair, in a blue T-shirt, and glasses. 
She doesn't know me.
Halfway down the street, she crosses the road and goes into a big old house. 
I walk past the house, not too fast, not too slow. 
I can't follow her into the house because there are no other people around. 
You can only hide easily when there are lots of people around.
I take the next right, walk for ten minutes, then turn around and come back. 
This time I walk to the front door of the big house. 
There are six bells by the door with names next to them. 
It's a house with six different apartments. 
I look at the names, but there isn't a ‘Williams’ next to any bell. 
Well, of course not. She's living with her Lithuanian boyfriend. 
I look at the names again... John Ozumba, K. Brown, Lili Sardelli, R. Varnaite, T. Grigas, M. M. Westerbrook.
Varnaite and Grigas... Lithuanian names, I think. Tomas Grigas, perhaps?
You can't stand in a quiet street and watch a house. 
Everybody looks at you and says, ‘Who's that woman? What's she doing?’ 
But you can watch a house from a car. 
People often sit in cars, waiting for somebody, having a sleep, checking their phone messages...
I go home, make some spaghetti for dinner, and text Edith Williams.
Saw C today. She's fine. More tomorrow.