A Family Holiday (26 page)

‘Charlie, don’t you get it?’ Charlie shrugged. ‘If I agree to be their guardian then you will leave. You go back to London and I effectively commit you to looking after these kids for the rest of your life.’

‘That’s exactly what we want, don’t you get that?’

‘But then I don’t get you?’ he said, his voice soft as it trailed off.

‘People rarely do get me. Someone called me obtuse once, I guess that’s the same…’

‘No. I mean I don’t get to
be
with you.’

‘What?’ Charlie narrowed her eyes, deeply suspicious.

‘Charlie
…
,’ he sighed and rubbed his chin, ‘I’m rubbish at this stuff.’ He smiled at her but she was frowning deeply. ‘You and me?’

‘There is no ‘You and me’. There was one night and then it all got complicated and you
…
well, I don’t know exactly but I’m guessing you went looking for someone else to blow on your dice.’

Blue burst out laughing. ‘There’s nobody else ‘blowing on my dice’. I promise you.’

Charlie didn’t look convinced, ‘You hardly know me.’ Which, she thought, was probably why he might think he wants to be with me.

‘There’s something about you… Oh hell, I’m so useless at this. Charlie, I want us to be…’ he seemed to struggle with finding a suitable word. ‘I can’t see how anything could happen between us with the children there too.’

Charlie felt as if a black hole had opened up at her feet. Trying to make sense of what Blue had put before her. ‘You’re giving me a choice: either the kids or you? Is that it?’

‘That’s not what I meant. It’s just that I can see a chance for us here in Antigua. I’ve had an interview for a proper job and…’

Charlie’s temper was rising. ‘So, I dump the kids on a plane back to London and I stay here paddling my toes, playing holidays with you for the foreseeable future?’

‘The children aren’t your problem
…
’

‘Yes, they are, and they should be yours!’

‘Maybe with time
…
’ but she didn’t let him finish.

‘That’s exactly what we don’t have!’ said Charlie, her voice almost a growl.

The silence boiled between them as Blue looked as if he was desperately trying to think of a way out of the hole that had unexpectedly gobbled him up.

‘Let’s meet up later and talk more. Yeah?’ he suggested.

‘Talk gets us nowhere, Blue! It’s a Cobley with a pulse and backbone that we need!’ she said, striding off at speed-walking pace, but with less of the wiggle. She overtook the girls as she walked up the beach, staring at the waning sun and trying to control her breathing.

As they neared the beach bar she could see a crowd of people and it made her curious. Blue caught up with her but she didn’t acknowledge him. As they got closer to the bar, they could see that everyone was glued to a news report on the small television behind the bar. The barman looked up and beckoned them over. ‘You’re from the UK, aren’t you?’ he asked. Charlie’s feet stopped in mid-step and the bile rose in her throat. This was it, this was the moment she had been dreading. The barman was looking at Charlie and back at the television screen. He was starting to look puzzled, so he turned to Blue. ‘She is British, isn’t she?’

‘Yeah, she’s a Londoner through and through,’ he said in a mockney accent and he put an arm around Charlie’s waist but, realising that she wasn’t moving, he stepped in front of her statue-like figure and waved a hand in front of her eyes. ‘Have you been frozen by the White Witch?’

‘Go and look what they’re saying on the television and I’ll… I don’t know, I guess I hand myself in,’ said Charlie, her voice soft, as if all power were draining from her.

Blue was already jumping up to sit on the bar for a good view of the screen, so her words were lost. The next few seconds seemed to creep by and the thundering of blood through her head was making Charlie feel dizzy. Eventually Blue turned and called her over, his face registering disbelief. ‘You’ve got to see this.’

Charlie took a deep breath and prepared herself for the worst. As she reached the bar, Blue leant down and effortlessly lifted her onto the counter top. He held her tightly around the waist. She savoured the feeling of safety when all around her she felt the world was caving in. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and forced herself to turn and look at the television screen. Charlie realised all the other eyes were now on her, awaiting her reaction. There was a news reporter and he was looking serious. She tried to focus on what he was saying. He was wearing a coat and the bottom of the screen said it was a report live from central London. She swallowed hard and tried to listen.

‘The Thames has reached its highest level since records began and, with another thirty millimetres of rainfall expected in the next few hours, homes are being evacuated in preparation for the worst. Back to you, Fiona, in the studio.’

The eyes were still on her and she could feel a wave of cold sweat sweeping up her body. Had she missed it? The report about the kidnapped children? Her mug shot and CCTV pictures of them at the airport? She looked over her shoulder at Blue, the colour draining from her face.

‘What did they say about the children?’ she asked.

‘Nothing, you loon. It was all about the weather. You are missing record rainfall and biblical floods in the UK and… Charlie!’ Blue tightened his grip as Charlie’s eyes rolled back into her head and her limp body slumped against him.

‘Really, I can’t stand the fussing,’ said Charlie, swatting people away like flies. It was a few hours since she’d passed out and, although everyone had been completely lovely and caring, they were now starting to drive her round the hat rack.

‘But you should be resting,’ said Fleur, leaning over and trying to feel Charlie’s forehead for the umpteenth time.

Charlie waved both hands in front of her like a stilted conductor. ‘Do you see what I mean?’

‘Whoops, sorry,’ said Fleur. ‘Blue was awfully manly, though, carrying you all the way back here. I mean that’s a long way to carry someone of your… well, it’s a long way to carry anyone,’ she corrected, as Charlie was tilting her head on one side and giving her one of her looks.

‘Did you leave a light on for Millie?’ asked Charlie.

‘Yes, stop fretting. All the children are fine. I can cope, you know. Maybe you should let me cope more often. Give yourself a bit of a break. Not for a week or anything, I mean a weekend or an evening. Actually an evening would be best,’ modified Fleur, as she left the room.

A few minutes later Fleur appeared with tall glasses of pineapple juice and they sipped them in silence for a bit.

‘I’m thinking of booking my flight home soon,’ said Fleur, eventually. ‘This business idea is really buzzing in my head now and being here has let things settle. A little bit like sediment,’ she said, swirling the bottom of her pineapple in the glass.

‘I’m pleased,’ said Charlie, ‘about the business, not you going home… although it will be nice to have the last few days with the children to myself, if I’m honest.’

‘It’s okay, I get it.’ Fleur gave her a hug.

It was all agreed, in spite of Charlie’s protests, that the next day would be a day of rest for her. Fleur would be on Millie watch and Blue and Ted would take Eleanor and George out for the day. Blue had plans for fishing and playing cricket with some local children, so everyone seemed happy. Charlie reluctantly agreed. She only liked things organised when it was her doing the organising.

As it turned out, she had a restful day spent mainly on the beach. Esther had even called by to check on how she was and she couldn’t fail to be touched by that. She had finished a great book that had kept her guessing about the killer until the last page and she had had at least two mini naps. She felt so relaxed that perhaps they had been right after all.

She collected up her things and sauntered up the windy hill road, smelling the air and taking in the flowers and even the cracks in the walls as she went by. She wanted to remember everything about Antigua. She couldn’t see there being an opportunity to ever return, so she had to absorb it all while she was here. A deep breath took in a lungful of sweet, clean air. She felt peaceful and it was a good feeling. There was still the little niggle of what would be waiting for her in London, but she folded that up in her mind and locked it away.

Charlie saw Fleur come flying out of the house like an Olympic sprinter. Charlie quickened her pace and Fleur ran to meet her.

‘Now, don’t panic!’ said Fleur. The words eliciting the opposite effect. ‘I was playing hide and seek with Millie and she’s hiding really well, that’s all.’

‘Fleur, hide and seek? You know I hate that game. When did you last see her?’

‘She was playing in the bushes about twenty minutes ago.’

Millie was missing and Charlie could feel her insides dissolving in the acid of fear. ‘Where have you looked?’

‘House and garden, but she’s hiding, Charlie. She’ll pop up in a minute, I’m sure,’ said Fleur, her face betraying the confidence of her words.

‘Fleur, stop it! She could be anywhere after twenty minutes.’ Charlie spun to look at the bushes, where she had last been seen. They were close to the road. ‘What’s she wearing?’

‘Um, her pink swimsuit, I think.’

‘Check the house again. Check under and in everything. I’ll ask the neighbours.’

Fleur ran back up the steps to the house without arguing. Charlie followed to get her mobile before marching out of the drive. She started with the immediate neighbours, where no one was home, but a cursory look through their gardens showed no sign of Millie. Charlie checked her watch; that had taken four more minutes and panic was rising. She called Ted’s mobile and left what she hoped was an urgent but coherent message.

She needed to do more – the door to door was too slow. Charlie ran onto the road and spun round frantically, trying desperately to catch sight of Millie. A glimpse of her dark hair or a flash of pink swimsuit was all she needed. In the distance and almost at the beach she saw a small child swinging a yellow bucket. Charlie burst into a run towards the child, her heart pounding. But a couple of strides forward made her spot the parents walking ahead of the child, who she could now see was a boy in red swim shorts.

These people were heading off for an afternoon of family fun on the beach. Their child was safe and all was perfect in their world. Charlie pulled her thoughts back to Millie and ran back to the house. She could hear Fleur inside calling Millie’s name and she started to do the same but it kept catching in her throat and she couldn’t call as loudly as she wanted to. She ran to the bottom of the garden and started pushing through the bushes and flowers, to be certain that she wasn’t hiding there. A few more precious minutes passed and Charlie was sure that Millie wasn’t in the garden and the realisation that she could have been kidnapped gripped her hard.

Ted came jogging into the garden, his face full of concern. ‘We’d just docked at the jetty when I saw you’d called. Have you found her?’

‘No.’ Charlie didn’t know what else to say and it was difficult to breathe and speak at the same time.

‘Should we call the police?’ he asked.

Charlie had considered the same thing but her automatic inclination to avoid the authorities had stopped her making the call.

‘I don’t know.’ Her head was spinning and the tightness in her gut was making it hard to breathe properly.

‘I’m going to call Blue. He’ll know what to do,’ said Ted, pulling out his phone. Charlie took a deep breath in an attempt to ‘grip self’ – another technique someone had once suggested.

‘Ted, check the beach and the hotel. She loves the beach, that’s where I’d go if I were her.’ She hadn’t seen Millie whilst she had been there but she was fast running out of places to check. Ted turned and sprinted off, speaking into his mobile as he went.

Fleur came out of the house, slumped onto the top step and started to cry. Charlie felt like doing the same but that wasn’t going to solve anything. She went over and patted Fleur on the shoulder. ‘I’m going to Berta’s. She may be there. You stay here in case she comes back.’

Berta’s was only a short stroll and when you were running full pelt it was actually very close. The small concrete block house was a yellow painted cube in a sea of frangipani flowers that were invading it from all directions. The ancient wooden door was open, revealing a dark interior and as she ran inside it took her eyes a moment to adjust. ‘Millie!’ Charlie’s call was almost a screech as Berta appeared wiping her hands on a tea towel.

‘Hello, Charlie.’

‘Is Millie here, Berta? Have you seen her?’

‘Not since lunch, what’s wrong?’

‘She’s missing. I have to go. If you see her hold onto her and call the villa, please,’ called Charlie, as she ran out of the small house and into the street.

A few desperate minutes later she was back in the villa gardens calling for Millie. Sweat trickled down her back and tears trickled down her face.

‘Hiya!’ called Blue, as he sauntered across the garden looking tanned and relaxed. ‘Ted’s with the terrible twosome. What’s up?’

‘Millie’s gone missing,’ said Charlie, glaring at Fleur as she joined them. ‘Did you see anyone else before she went missing?’ Charlie asked Fleur.

‘Like who?’ Fleur wiped the tears and snot roughly from her face.

‘Anyone, someone who may have taken her.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Fleur’s forehead was creasing as she strained to think.

‘Come on, Charlie,’ Blue said, a small frown darting across his forehead, ‘calm down. Don’t you think you’re overreacting? This is Antigua, not the East End.’

‘Don’t you think kidnapping could happen here? A quick boat trip and she could be on the coast of Venezuela and before bedtime she’s being traded for coffee and cocaine in Columbia!’

Blue chuckled and stepped forward. ‘Charlie, your imagination is amazing. She’ll be playing somewhere. At worst, someone will have taken her in,’ and, catching her look he quickly added, ‘a kind person, who will make sure she’s okay until we find her. That’s what people are like here.’

‘You don’t know that for sure. We have to find her.’ She checked her watch, ‘She’s been missing more than forty minutes. What do we do now?’

Charlie felt furious, helpless and totally overwhelmed by the situation and the horror in her mind that was fast becoming reality.

‘Charlie, calm down,’ said Blue, putting his hands on her forearms.

‘Get off me! This is serious. Maybe if you had a heart,’ she said, batting him across the chest, ‘you might feel something. If you’d stayed around your family long enough to feel anything for anyone else, you might realise there’s more to life than swanning around on fantasy bloody island playing with sodding boats!’ she shouted. ‘You’re wasting time; she could be miles away by now. Why won’t you help me?’ and she lost the fight to keep the tears under control and started to sob.

Blue looked uncomfortable. ‘All right. Let’s divide and conquer. Fleur, you stay here in case she comes back. I’ll call Tigi and we’ll get the jeep and minibus out searching the streets for her. I’ll call all the local hotels on English Harbour and ask them to look out for her. Okay?’ he said, lowering his head so that he could look directly into her eyes.

Charlie took a deep breath and inelegantly sniffed back the tears. ‘I’m coming with you.’

Blue nodded and strode off to call Tigi. Fleur and Charlie looked at each other and, although Charlie was crosser with her than she could ever remember being before, she couldn’t help but feel for Fleur. She knew Fleur was sorry and was feeling the pain, but right now all she could focus on was finding Millie.

Blue finished his call and waved to Charlie. She gave Fleur the briefest of smiles jogged over to Blue and they headed out of the drive together. As they were about to step onto the road, Blue glanced over his shoulder and back at the villa. What he saw made him spin around.