While Helen’s mother went through to the kitchen to make them tea, Ian Groves told them how he’d flown out to Port-au-Prince within hours of a policeman turning up at their door to tell them about Helen’s tragic accident. He described the frustrations of the delays and the countless meetings he had with the Haitian police and Embassy officials.
‘Helen had died instantly at the scene,’ he said, glancing towards the kitchen door. ‘I went to the place where it happened. It was a quiet part of town. It was no wonder there were no witnesses. I know none of this will bring Helen back, but I just want to ask whoever it was: How could you do that and drive away?’
Callie Groves came in holding a tray. A cup was rattling against the teapot. Best china for the guests. They were grieving, suffering and yet they still needed to keep up appearances.
‘Why was Helen in Haiti in the first place?’ asked Lara.
Callie was concentrating, pouring the tea, but she looked up, her dark eyes fierce.
‘Rebecca Robertson,’ she said tersely. ‘If it hadn’t been for that girl…’
Her husband’s gentle hand reached out to touch his wife’s wrist.
‘Rebecca is – was – Helen’s best friend,’ said Ian. ‘Ever since middle school. Inseparable, they were. Whatever the latest fad was, whatever the fashion, they’d be dressing up together. They egged each other on.’
‘And it was Rebecca’s idea to go to Haiti?’
‘Rebecca announced she was having a gap year after university. So Helen decided she wanted one too. She liked causes, you see, causes and marches. Always raising money or signing a petition. Her dream was to be a human rights lawyer. So before we knew it, they were both off to Haiti to work as volunteers for ImpactAid.’
Lara saw Callie shake her head in disgust. Lara could see the split here. The mother hating the cause that had taken her baby away, the father who wanted Helen’s death to have some meaning. Neither of them were going to find an easy peace.
‘Was Helen happy there?
‘Oh yes. She sent emails when she could,’ said Ian, smiling softly. ‘She was proud to be helping people. But she was also pleased to be coming home.’
‘Oh?’ said Lara. ‘I didn’t know she was due to come back.’
Ian took out his phone, then fished out his reading glasses from his top pocket.
‘Now what did she say?’ he muttered to himself, scrolling through his messages.
He paused as if he were about to read it out but then handed over his phone.
‘Her last message,’ he said. Lara read the text quickly and then slowed down to take it in once more. Not just reading the words but trying to imagine what Helen was thinking when she wrote it.
Hello from Haiti! Still having a ball, although I could do with less of the heat. And the mozzies. And I’m yearning for a glass of milk, it’s one thing no one ever has out here. Becky has a boyfriend (not sure it’s serious!) MY big news…drum roll…I’m coming home. Things have got a little complicated recently. I think my time is done here.
Anyway, I will let you know when I’ve got flights and stuff. Can’t wait to see you all. SOON!
Love ya, Hxxxxx
‘When was this sent?’ asked Lara.
‘The week before the accident.’
‘“Things have got a little complicated.” Have you any clue what that means?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Ian. ‘We spoke to her a week before the email. She sounded a little distracted but didn’t indicate anything was wrong.’
‘Did you show the police?’
‘Of course, but they didn’t think it was significant. And obviously, no one in the Edinburgh police wanted to know – why would they? It happened on the other side of the world, not on Princes Street.’
‘Was Rebecca still in Haiti at the time?’
‘Yes, she was,’ said Callie.
‘And was she with her at the time of the accident?’