She was a large-boned woman, in her fifties at a guess with grey shoulder length hair, a sallow complexion and chunky black-framed glasses. She wore dark slacks and a baggy woollen sweater, bottle green with flecks of colour in it, sprinkled with dog hairs.
From the chair I could see the garden, long and wide with a couple of apple trees at one side and a wall at the end. Flower borders ran the length of the lawn which had a wavy path down its centre. Two honey coloured Labradors were sniffing around the lawn and occasionally diving onto each other. An old larch-lap fence divided the garden from its neighbours on either side. I stood up to see what was visible of the Pickering’s garden to the left. I could make out the roof of a garden shed and a circular clothes dryer, the tips of a row of conifers at the far side, nothing more.
Mrs Clerkenwell returned with mugs of coffee.
“Roger has explained to you why I’m here? That he’s asked me to trace his sister, Jennifer?”
“Yes. Though I’m not sure what help I’ll be. I’ve often wondered what became of her.”
“What was she like?” I asked.
“Very lively, high spirits. Obviously got on well at school. Very bright, on the ball. She and Roger used to walk the dogs, he was not much more than a toddler when they first started. They’d take them down to the recreation ground or up to the park. Along the river sometimes. Once or twice she came along with me to a craft fair, I run a stall on a regular basis. She was a nice girl, I liked her.”
“And then she left home?”
“Yes, Keele wasn’t it? English degree. Couldn’t wait to get there. It was that terrifically hot summer, the drought. ‘76. You remember?”
I nodded. “And after that?”
“I never heard from her. Not that I expected to. I was only the next-door neighbour,” she laughed.
“Did you know that she’d not kept in touch with her family?”
“Not for some time, no. I think it was that Christmas, I saw Barbara and I asked her about Jennifer; how was she getting on, when would she be back – that sort of thing. She was quite abrupt. Told me that Jennifer had dropped out of university and that they’d no idea when they would hear from her again. I was surprised, I must admit. I never thought Jennifer would have given up her studies like that. Perhaps the course wasn’t what she’d expected. Anyway, Barbara obviously didn’t want to talk about it and we were never very chummy so that was it.” She wrinkled her nose and the heavy glasses bobbed up and down.
