Finding Alfie

the first unselfish thing I'v e ever done in my life. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. Know that I loved you and will always love you. I will send this to you when you are 21, and I hope you will understand that I promised to keep my distance for your sake. With all my love always, Daddy.'

She swallowed back the lump in her throat, folded the letter and slotted it back in the envelope. Surely even a less-than-perfect dad was better than none at all?

He had clearly carried the letter round for years intending to post it and when the time came, he didn' t have Alfie' s address.

She could imagine Alfie' s despairing dad making the decision to throw it in the bin. It was desperately sad.

But now all she had to do was find Alfie and deliver the letter!

And it was no longer about persuading Marcus to take her on as a partner. It had become far more important.

The receptionist at the Royal Hotel had false eyelashes so big, it looked as if her eyes were inhabited by giant spiders.

Her lips were blood red and her fingernails so long, it was a wonder she could tap the keyboard. I' m looking for the name of someone who stayed here in 2005,' Isabel said as she looked at the receptionist' s name badge. I wonder if you could help me with that¼ Charlene.' I don' t think I' m allowed to do that,' Charlene replied. But it' s so long ago, where' s the harm?' Isabel cajoled. `I know the exact date.' Do you know what room they were in?' No idea, but they used the hotel' s headed notepaper to write a letter.'

Charlene' s lips turned up. We only supply that in our suites, and there are only four of those. What date are you looking at?'

Isabel told her, and those long fingernails became a blur of sparkling silver and red on the keyboard. This would' ve been a man on his own,' Isabel added. That narrows it down to two people.' Charlene bit her lip. I' d love to give you their names, but I' m not sure I can. It might be unethical.' I' m trying to reunite one of them with his family,'

Isabel said. I promise, if I' m successful, I' ll come and let you know.'

Charlene looked one way, then the other before turning the screen round just long enough for Isabel to note down two names.

Geoffrey Parsons and Paul Fisher. She figured the father of a six-year-old in 2005 was more likely to be called Paul. One of them left without paying his bill,' Charlene said. Paul?'

She nodded. Thank you,' Isabel said. If you' re ever looking for a job, contact us,' she said, handing Charlene one of Marcus' s business cards. I like your quick thinking and your compassion.' Ooh, private detectives, how exciting. Thanks, I might give you a call.'

Back at the office, it didn' t take long to find out that Paul Fisher' s company had gone bust in 2005.

There was a small piece in a newspaper website archive about him going missing.

She found a picture of Alfie Fisher online, holding aloft a trophy won by his school football team. And later, a death notice for Victoria Fisher, beloved mother of Alfie, from just last year.

The poor guy had lost his dad when he was six, and his mother when he was 20.

But another article showed him starting his own business as a craftsman, restoring things considered beyond repair. And from that, she found his website.

He was young and goodlooking, with a warm smile and haunted eyes.

There was of course the possibility that Paul had already found his son through his website, and she might be stirring up a hornet' s nest.

Paul hadn' t paid his hotel

bill because he was broke.

Perhaps he' d ended up living on the streets with no access to the internet.

How on earth did you start to come back from having nothing?

Just then, Marcus came in, hung his coat up and rubbed his hands together.

You still here?'

I' m just leaving,' she said. I take it you didn' t find anything?'

She smiled enigmatically. Maybe. How about you? How' s your case going?'

I' ve drawn an absolute blank,' he said wearily.

Need any help?'

He smiled at her and shook his head.

I' ll figure it out.'

Isabel stopped off at the charity shop on her way to the homeless shelter and bought some padded coats, sturdy boots and thick sweaters.

She' d never been to the shelter before and it surprised her how bright and cheerful it was.

A woman stood behind a counter dishing out cups of tea and hot soup, and Isabel carried the bulging bags across to her.

That looks like a bribe,' the woman said. We never say no to decent warm clothes. What are you after?'

A bit of information,' Isabel said. I' m looking for someone.'

The woman laughed.

Isn' t everyone? Who is it? Dad? Grandad? Husband?'

I' m looking for someone called Paul.'

We' ve got two Pauls,' she replied. There' s young Paul, and old Paul.'

It' ll be old Paul.'

That' s him over there.

You' re lucky to catch him, he only comes in to eat lunch. I don' t know where he sleeps, but I doubt it' s warm and comfortable. He seems intent on punishing himself for something.'

May I speak to him?'

The woman shrugged.

Free country.'

Paul sat alone, wiping his bowl with a chunk of bread, his hand shaking.

When he looked up, Isabel felt sure he was the one.

He had the same sad blue eyes as his son.

She took the envelope out of her pocket and slid it across the table.

He groaned.

Where' d you find that?'

In a bin. Why didn' t you send it to Alfie?'

He flinched at the mention of his son' s name.

I couldn' t find him. And besides, I thought he' d think I had an ulterior motive.'

Like what?'

I invested money for him for when he turned 21. I made it so I couldn' t touch it, or I would have spent that too.'

Come home with me,' she said. You can have a shower and I' ll give you some of my husband' s clothes. Then I' ll arrange for you to see your son.'

Her heart squeezed when she saw the hope in his eyes, but it rapidly faded.

He won' t want to see me.' You could give him the letter,' she said. Let him know you love him.'

Her hear t squeezed when she saw the hope in his eyes, but it rapidly faded

Paul was having a shower when Isabel heard voices by the front door.

I' ve brought someone home,' Marcus called up the stairs, then did a double take when Isabel came into the hall. Who' s in the shower?'

My client,' Isabel said. I' ve found his son for him.'

The young man who' d come in with Marcus took off his woolly hat and Isabel gasped.

Alfie Fisher?'

How do you know my client?' Marcus said. Have you been looking at my files?'

Upstairs, the shower stopped.

I found the letter writer,' Isabel said. It' s Alfie' s dad. I told you I' d solve it in a day.' My dad' s alive?' Alfie said. Isabel saw the same hope in his eyes she' d seen earlier in Paul' s.

I always thought he' d taken his own life,' he went on. I wanted to find where he was buried and give him a proper funeral.'

Five minutes later, the two men were embracing.

Alfie offered his dad a job and a home, and Isabel turned to her husband.

Speaking of jobs,' she said, raising her eyebrows.

Consider yourself my new partner,' Marcus grinned. `All we have to do now is find a secretary!'

I think I already have,' Isabel said with a smile. I' ll speak to Charlene tomorrow.'