Holding On To You (27 page)

Maddy eventually passes it back to River. She had forgotten it was something she was carrying at all.

'Keep it', she says. 'I don't need it anymore.'

River takes it back, squeezes it in his fist and then with his hand sprung open, he watches the pig immediately retake its original shape. Out of the glove compartment he takes his gun, and with Maddy watching from inside the car, he throws both of them into the nearest bin. When he gets back to the car, he digs under his seat for the money bag. He takes a wad of notes out, which he stuffs in his pocket, and gives the rest back to Maddy.

'What's this?' she says.

'It was never mine', River says. 'I don't know if it's all still there, but you better take it. Hand it back to the police or whatever.'

'What happened to money doesn't have an owner?' Maddy says.

'It doesn't', River says, 'so that can't be mine.'

He closes his door, adjusts his seat and mirrors, takes the cigarette from behind his ear and lights it. Finally, he turns on the engine.

'Is this it?' Maddy says, her hand on his knee.

'It's getting close', River says.

'You promised me lunch', Maddy says, reminding him, another tear pearling down her cheek.

'I did that', River says. 'And it's going to be the best meal either of us will have ever eaten.'

River drives away from the Ferris wheel and back towards the border, Maddy's head rested on his shoulder, and her hand sometimes on his knee, other times wrapped around his waist. Outside, people go about their business, each one oblivious to the life of the next. They laugh and they cry, and they listen to music, and Maddy watches the way the corners of River's mouth lift up when he smiles, and how his pupils go wider when he's excited, and they both feel like they are at the beginning of a long journey, rather than at the very end.

When River touches her, which is usually either on her wrist, or under her chin, or pinching her cheek, she feels like there is nothing else more important in the world. What Maddy feels, for the first time in her life, and for want of a better word, because Maddy isn't sure what the word she has going around her head really means, and the idea of admitting it to herself is so dangerous because it might at once be taken away, but feels it anyway, and can't help but feel it, is loved. She feels loved, and it fills her heart with so much warmth she never wants to feel any other way again.

In a dirty café, a hundred metres from the border, they eat a terrible meal of scrambled eggs and burnt rice, washed down with a beer each and a burning hot coffee that tastes like it's been made with road tar. The food is awful, but River isn't wrong. It
is
the best meal either of them have ever eaten, simply because the time they spend together over it, is the happiest either of them have ever been.

They hold hands and kiss, and sit there for as long as they can before it feels right for River to go. When he gets up, Maddy goes with him, but he tells her to sit back down.

'It's better this way', he says.

'Like you've just gone to the car, and you'll be back in a minute', Maddy says, tears welling up again in her sad green eyes.

'Something like that', River says, and they both smile.

'This is it, isn't it?' Maddy asks, hopeful the plan has all been a ruse, and River intends to stay with her after all. Like he's going to the car to check it's locked, or to pick up something he's left behind. Like they're on holiday and he can't possibly leave her.

'Think if it like the moment when the Ferris wheel stops.' River says.

'With you at the top and me at the bottom', Maddy says.

'With us both waiting to get on', River says.

'Don't go', Maddy says.

'You know I've got to Princess, don't make this more difficult than it already is. One month we'll be together again.'

'One month', Maddy says, her cheeks wet with tears.

'It'll go quicker than you think', River says.

'Maybe for you.'

River squeezes her hand and kisses her on the forehead.

'What if you don't get through?' Maddy says, suddenly panicking. She holds on to him tightly.

'Don't think about that Maddy', River says, squeezing her back. 'Remember to try and think more positively.'

River kisses her on the cheek, and raises her chin in the familiar way she has grown used to him doing, when he wants to make her feel better.

'I can't help it', she says. 'What if you get through and the police find you?'

'They won't', River says. 'If I get through, it means they know nothing about me. Once I'm across the border, I'll dump the car, get in a taxi and be on the way to freedom without a trail. Believe me. A month later you'll be there, and the two of us will be on the way to making our new life together.'

'As easy as that', Maddy says, trying to be optimistic.

'As easy as that', River says, and kisses Maddy deeply. 'Now, come on. This isn't a goodbye. Our lives are only just starting. We ought to be happy not sad.'

'I am happy', Maddy says, with tears in her eyes.

'I'll see you on the other side Princess', River says, squeezing her hand.

'Not if I see you first', Maddy says, trying to be humorous to make herself feel better.

'I'll let you know where, don't you worry. I'll get a note to you as soon as I can.'

'Ok', Maddy says nodding, the tears continuing to fall.

'Keep your chin up, Maddy', River says. 'Come on now. You're a beautiful woman so don't let anyone else tell you you aint. You got me?'

'I've got you', Maddy says.

'I've got to go.'

'I know.'

'Stay here until I'm gone.'

'I will', Maddy says.

'Just give me a couple of hours, that'll be enough', River says.

'Wait', Maddy says, just before he pulls his hand away from hers.

River waits. Maddy breathes deeply, looks squarely into his ice blue eyes and readies herself. Finally she lets him go.

He gives her one last kiss, they hug tightly, and he's out of the door before she can stop him.

Alone, for the first time in two days, she becomes immediately aware of herself, and can't stop crying. She looks at the door constantly, hoping that River will come back through. When she hears the car start up outside and begin to pull away, she knows he's finally gone. Fifteen minutes later, after the waitress has asked if she is alright and whether she would like any more coffee, she gets up, and leaves the restaurant. From the street, she can see the border gates clearly, but River's car is nowhere to be seen.

At the Albuquerque police station, there has been a special telephone number set up for all information pertaining to the bank robbery and kidnapping of Madeleine Parker. It's a number that has been displayed constantly on TV news channels, read repeatedly on the radio, and published with several leading newspapers. It is the number that Sally Cannon is now dialling, desperate to pass on the information her brother refuses to do so.

'Albuquerque Police Department', comes the voice on the other end of the line, which belongs to a rotund office named Midland Jenkins, who has a charming telephone voice that makes him sound a lot more handsome than he really is.

'Oh hi, look, I'm calling from out of state, but I've got some information relating to the Maddy Parker case.'

'Go on', Midland says, immediately grabbing a pen and a piece of paper.

'Well, it may be nothing', Sally says. 'But I reckon I saw Maddy this morning in my patisserie.'

'And where would that be?' Midland says, misspelling the word patisserie and following it with a question mark, as he jots it down.

'Oh we're just in a small town, nowhere really, about two hundred and fifty miles east of Albuquerque, its called Glebe.'

'And you think you saw Maddy in your shop.'

'I don't think I did', Sally says, 'I know I did.'

'And she was with the perpetrator?' Midland says.

'Well no, that's just it, she was on her own.'

'On her own?' Midland says.

'Yes, look, I know it sounds strange officer, but there she was, clear as day, wearing this blonde wig and just acting like she was in a dream.'

Midland writes blonde wig and dream on his notepad.

'She was wearing a blonde wig?' he asks.

'Yes', Sally says.

'Where would she have got a blonde wig from?'

'I am not a detective, detective', she says. 'I bake French cakes and I bake them well, but I cannot tell you what she was doing in my shop, nor why she was there. All I can tell you is that she
was
there.'

'And you are certain of this?'

'I'm certain.'

'Have you told your local police force?' Midland asks.

'Yes', Sally says. 'I got the licence plate number of the car she was driving-'

'Wait', Midland says. 'She was driving a car as well?'

'Yes', Sally says. 'I'm getting on to that.'

'You know this girl is currently being held hostage, and that there is a ransom for her release?' Midland says, making the 'and' much longer than it needs to be.

'Well she certainly didn't look like she was being help hostage to me', Sally says. 'She looked in absolutely fine fettle, actually much better than those pictures you've been showing on the TV. She looked radiant I think is the right word, with a kind of glow that you only usually get, you know when-'

'Look, is this really relevant?' Midland says, scratching through the words 'rosy glow' he's written on the notepad without thinking.

'So I got the licence plate number of the car she was driving, like I was trying to tell you', Sally says, 'and I got the police to run a check, just to see who it belonged to.'

'And?' Midland says, with the long drawl.

'Well', Sally says, 'like I say, it could be nothing, but I figured it would be worth running your way anyway. The car was a silver Lexus registered to a River Woods who works at the Juniper Glade Hotel chain in Albuquerque.'

'Yeah I know the chain', Midland says, writing the name of both the hotel and the owner of the car on his notepad.

'So I called the hotel. I figured that maybe the bank robber had stolen this guy's car when he dumped the Oldsmobile you know, and it turns out he's on annual leave.'

'Right', Midland says.

'Which means that someone could have stolen the car in his absence, and he won't be able to report it until he comes back, do you follow me officer?' Sally says, a little unsure if she's being clear enough.

'What would you like me to do Miss-?'

'Cannon, Sally Cannon', Sally says. 'Well seeing as the car is registered in Albuquerque, I wondered if it would be possible to send someone round to his house to see if his car is there, or maybe to the hotel to try and get a phone number to call him and see where he is. You might even check to see if anyone with that name has left the country recently. If he's gone by plane, we'll know he's not with his car, if you see what I mean.'

'Right', Midland says. 'I'll have to write this up as a possible sighting, and see if the senior officers wish to proceed.'

'How long will that take?' Sally says.

'It depends on whether it's considered a priority or not', Midland says.

'And you can't just put out an APB out on the silver Lexus and try and find out where it is, and whether the woman who's driving it is Maddy or not?'

'Look this doesn't really work like it does on the cop shows', Midland says. 'If it's considered appropriate, it'll get done. I'll pass on the details for you and then we'll see how they want to proceed. That's the best I can do for you.'

'Well I guess that's better than they did for me here', Sally says, resigned to it.

'I'm glad I've been of assistance', Midland says, underlining the words silver Lexus, River Woods and blonde wig. 'Is there anything else I can help you with?'

'No, that's all I called you for', Sally says, and puts the phone down, not entirely happy with the assistance she's been given.

Midland's notebook is a confusing jumble of words that don't make much sense out of context. He starts again on a new page and writes:

Possible sighting of Madeleine Parker in café in Glebe, driving away in a silver Lexus registered to a River Woods.
Not reported stolen
. Maddy considered by witness to be happy and upbeat
,
which he then crosses out and puts
relaxed
.
River Woods not contactable. Run APB on silver Lexus?'

Officer Midland puts the note on officer Garland's empty desk, making sure that it's clearly visible, before going back to his own desk and continuing to work through case files from a backlog the department has been concentrating on for over six months.