Birds Of A Feather Episode 01
This couldn’t be the place, surely?
Jess Langton knew Bristol quite well, and when she’d seen the Clifton address on the letter heading she’d envisaged an elegant street flanked by handsome Georgian houses, not this seedy alley strewn with detritus from the burger bar on the corner.
The building was covered in graffiti, but in the middle of the garish swirls and scribbles was the sign she’d been looking for.
Harry Manvers. First floor.
Her fingers closed over the silver bird charm she wore around her neck. She straightened her shoulders and went inside.
The smell of cooking fat caught the back of her throat. She suppressed a shudder as she climbed the uncarpeted stairs.
She was still holding Harry Manvers’s letter, but she didn’t need to look at it to recall what it said.
She’d read it so many times since receiving it three weeks ago that she knew it by heart.
Dear Miss Langton, it began. I was sorry to hear about the death of your grandfather, William “Jock” Dobbin.
He hired me to trace you after he saw your picture in a national magazine.
He had no idea his daughter, Kathryn, had a child. He was distressed to learn you’d grown up an orphan and never knew who your parents were.
Another line of enquiry I was pursuing on his behalf has brought to light information about your father’s family and I feel obliged to pass this to you.
If you wish to take this further, please telephone to make an appointment.
I shall be out of the office for the next three weeks, but will be back on the morning of Friday 27th.
Yours sincerely,
Harry Manvers.
The weeks since she’d received the letter had passed agonisingly slowly. But at last here she was, about to find out about her father and his family.
She knocked at the door marked Harry Manvers, Private Investigator. The door opened.
If the street was nothing like she’d imagined, then neither was the man who stood there.
She hadn’t exactly expected a Sam Spade figure, complete with trilby hat and cigarette, but Mr Manvers looked like a bank manager.
In his late fifties, he was tall and slim, with thinning hair and shrewd eyes. He wore a charcoal suit and a shirt so white it would hurt your eyes to look at it in bright sunshine.
“Miss Langton?” His smile softened the angular lines of his face.
He gestured her to sit down and took his place at the desk opposite her.
Jess clasped her hands in her lap.
“You have information. About . . .” She paused.
She still found herself stumbling over the words “mother” and “father”, neither having featured in a childhood spent in a series of children’s homes and foster placements.
“About my father’s family?”
My father. It still felt weird to say it out loud, even though she’d practised saying it to herself since getting the letter.
“I do. His name was –”
“Joe Ryan,” she cut in, eager to hurry him on. “I know that much. He died in the same car crash as my mother. My grandfather told me.”
“You met Jock, then?”
Jess shook her head.
“No. The first I knew of him was when his solicitor got in touch to say I’d inherited his cottage.
“After I moved in I found a letter he’d begun to write to me, telling me about my parents. He said he’d tell me more when we met.
“Only –” She swallowed hard. Saying this never got any easier.
“Only he was killed before we could do so.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I was the sole survivor of the car crash, and as my parents had no ID on them and the vehicle they were travelling in was unregistered, no-one knew who they were.
“But now you’ve traced my father’s family?”
“I have.” He looked uneasy. “There’s a slight problem, though.”
“Go on.” She held her breath.
“Your father’s family are travellers.”
She gave a sigh of relief.
“I knew that. I don’t have a problem with that. I judge people for who they are, not their chosen lifestyle.”
“As do I, Miss Langton,” he said evenly. “But let me finish. Joe came from a large family.
“I’ve come across various members of it many times in the course of my working life. I was a serving police officer for twenty years.
“I’d strongly advise you to keep away from them. They can bring you nothing but trouble.”