Lois Meade 03: Weeping on Wednesday (1987) (19 page)

“What’re they for?” Jamie walked over and touched the ornate lids.

“Oh, vegetables and things,” said Enid casually. “Never used now, of course, but I keep them cleaned. They came from Father’s family, and I don’t like to get rid of them. Who knows when we might need them?”

Jamie accepted this without question, and looked around.

“Cool!” he said, seeing the piano in the corner. It was very large and solid, plain in a good way. He could read the word
Bluthner
on the front, and
Dale, Forty & Co
. in gilt lettering.

“It came from Cheltenham, many years ago. It was my great-grandmother’s,” Enid said.

“Will I be able to play it?” said Jamie apprehensively.

“The keyboard’s exactly the same as yours,” said Enid reassuringly, opening up the lid and setting a piano primer on the music rest. He sat down, and Enid showed him how to adjust the height of the stool, spinning round and round, until it was right for him. Then she drew up one of the big dining-chairs beside him. “Right,” she said, “off you go. Let’s have the scale of C major.”

He began to play, and could hear at once that the piano was out of tune. It bothered him, but he said nothing. Everything Enid told him was like a magic way into a different world. He was totally absorbed, and at first didn’t hear the noise coming from the other side of the hall. Finally he stopped playing, and looked at Enid. “What’s that?” he said, as the rapping became savage and sharp.

Her expression had changed, her shoulders drooped and she looked down at her hands. “It’s Mother,” she said. “She doesn’t like us playing the piano. I’m so sorry, Jamie, but I’m afraid we’ll have to stop. But never mind,” she continued, “I’ll give you some exercises to do for next week, and then you can get back home. It’s dark now, and I expect your mother will be glad to see you back.”

They left the dining-room, and Enid switched off the light, pulling the door shut. In the dim, narrow passageway, Jamie followed close behind. As Enid picked up the tray from the side table, Jamie froze in terror at a loud hail of raps and shouts coming from very close to him.

§

“Give Jamie a shout,” said Lois to Douglas. They were all relaxed in front of the television, and the scent of freesias brought home by Derek filled the room. “It’s his favourite programme,” she added. “Must have done his homework by now.”

“Unlike him to be s’keen on maths homework,” said Derek, his feet propped up on the stone fireplace. “Cold tonight,” he added. “Clear sky later, and no wind.”

“Just as well you didn’t put out them plants,” said Lois comfortably. “Douglas, please do as you’re asked,” she added. “Go and call Jamie to come down. You bet he’s stuck to that computer again.”

Gran sighed. “I think he’s sulking a bit, about missing his piano lesson. He’s really keen, that lad.”

“Yes, well,” said Derek. “He’ll have to learn that life’s full o’little disappointments.
Douglas!
Do as your mother said, and do it now!”

Douglas got up from his chair reluctantly and sloped off to the foot of the stairs to call his brother. When Jamie did not appear, Derek stirred. “No, you stay there, Lois,” he said, as she also began to rise. “I’ll go. Do me heavy father act. That should bring him…”

Lois heard Derek padding upstairs, and then silence for a few seconds. Then she heard doors opening and shutting, and finally Derek’s rapid descent.

“He’s not there!” he said.

“What d’you mean, ‘not there’?” Lois frowned, but Douglas shrugged.

“Probably in the bog,” he said.

“No, I’ve looked. I’ve looked everywhere, and he’s not in the house.”

Sudden fear shot through Lois. She ran out into the hall and began to call. “Jamie? Jamie! Come here at once!” Old memories of enemies she had made through working for Cowgill came rushing back. Revenge for her part in nobbling villains had already struck at her family.

“Hold on, Lois,” Derek said. “Let’s think.”

“Ring the police,” said Gran. “You can’t muck about when a lad’s gone missing. In the dark and cold…” There was a break in her voice, and she disappeared into the kitchen.

“Not for the minute,” said Derek, switching off the television. “Sit down, all of you. Now, where might he have gone. Douglas?”

“His friend Sam,” said Douglas. “Just down the road. We could ring.”

“OK – you do that,” said Lois, holding on, as Derek had said. “Josie? You got any ideas?”

“You could look in the garage, or the shed,” she replied. “Start close to home. If the daft little sod’s hiding, it could be there.”

“Language,” said Derek automatically. “Go and look, Josie.” He said it without much hope. Why should a boy hide away in a freezing cold shed for no reason at all? Douglas came back from the telephone, shaking his head. “Sam hasn’t sin him since they got off the school bus. Didn’t know where he could’ve gone. He said he’d help look, but I said we were OK.”

Lois clenched her fists to keep the panic down. “He wouldn’t go with them kids round the back of the village hall, would he?” Nobody wanted to think about that. It was well known as the local meeting place for having a smoke, exchanging tabs, Long Farnden’s very own drug scene.

Josie came in from the garden. “Nope, he’s nowhere there. But his bike’s gone, Mum.” Not good news, she knew. The village hall kids always had their bikes for a quick getaway. Lois pulled on her anorak, and turned to Derek. “You stay here for a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll be back. If I don’t find him, we ring Keith Simpson.”

Derek nodded, but thought privately that they could do a better search themselves than bring in Constable Plod. He felt reasonably calm. Jamie was a sensible lad, and would not normally do anything stupid. But was this a normal thing? He’d never run away before, or anything like that. Always been a bit spoilt, perhaps, being the youngest. But not wilful or disobedient. Sometimes Derek thought he could be a bit more independent, not so close to his mother and Gran.

In the kitchen, Gran sat at the table, eyes closed, thinking.

§

Lois walked quickly. She had a torch, but did not switch it on. Long Farnden had no street lights, but she knew her way like a cat, avoiding potholes and broken pavements. She intended to come round the corner of the village hall very quietly, and hoped to surprise them. She knew most of them. They were not all deprived kids from broken homes, not by any means. Good, middle-class backgrounds, most of them. Working mothers, though. She felt a pang of guilt.

As she expected, the small huddle of teenagers broke up quickly, peeling off on their bikes and disappearing into the night. Only one figure remained, and it was not Jamie. “Mrs M? What are you…?” Lois knew the voice at once.

“Hazel?”

“Yes, it’s me, in case you’re wondering. I’m working. For our mutual friend. Spy, informer, grass…What shall we call ourselves? This is my patch…but I s’pose you’re not here to help?”

In the anxiety of the moment, Lois had forgotten her row with Hazel. “I’m looking for Jamie,” she said. “He’s gone missing. He could have been here.”

Hazel shook her head. “Not a chance, thank God,” she said. “This lot are regulars. Not your Jamie. When’d he go?”

“Not sure.” Lois explained the details briefly to Hazel, then said she must be getting back.

By the time she returned to the house, Derek had made a plan. “I’ll get the van,” he said, “and you take your car, Lois. We’ll go slowly round the villages and see if we spot him. Josie and Douglas can go round likely friends in the village. And stick together, you two. Gran can stay here, in case Jamie comes back, or there are any phone calls or messages.”

“An’ if we don’t find him, we ring Keith Simpson,” repeated Lois. She looked at the clock. It was half past eight. Time was passing, and they still had no idea where Jamie had gone. “Where’s Gran?” she said.

“In the kitchen,” Josie said, putting on her coat. “Tell her to stay here and wait.” Lois fished in her pocket for car keys.

Josie went into the kitchen, and saw Gran sitting there, eyes closed. “Gran?” Poor old thing. Must be upset.

“Yes?”

Eyes still closed.

“Um, we’re all goin’ out looking. Mum says will you stay here and hold the fort?”

Gran nodded. “I’m thinking, dear,” she said. “Off you go.”

J
amie sat in the Abraham’s kitchen, a mug of hot milk in his hand, and a cat curled up on his lap.

“Drink that all down,” said Enid. “Then we’ll get you home.”

Walter Abraham had said he was sorry Mother had made such a scene. “Not a good idea, you coming down here,” he added wearily. In a voice Jamie had not heard before, Enid retorted that Mother’d soon get used to it if they didn’t pander to her so much. Walter raised his eyebrows and said when Jamie had finished his milk he’d load the bike into the back of the truck and run him home. “Shouldn’t be out at this hour on your own, anyway,” he said. “I don’t know what your parents are thinking of.”

“Shouldn’t we ring them?” said Enid. “Just to tell them you’re on the way home?”

“No, they won’t worry,” lied Jamie. “I often go out at night on my bike. I got lights. I’ll be OK – no need for you to take me in the truck.” He was not at all keen on arriving home in the care of Mr Abraham. He was planning to say he’d been for a ride around, and hadn’t noticed it was getting dark. Perhaps he’d say Sam had asked him to go round to his house. They wouldn’t mind that. Apart from a bollocking for not telling them, he’d probably get off lightly. But not if he arrived home in Mr Abraham’s truck.

Enid had made light of the storm from inside the locked room. Ushering Jamie back into the kitchen, she had confronted her father’s angry face with a joke about Mother being so stupid that she didn’t know when she was listening to a budding genius. Then she’d insisted on giving him this milk, in spite of him saying he didn’t much like hot milk. “It’ll warm you up,” she said, “before you go home.”

He was certainly warm now. The fire was in a kind of basket in an old black range, and the other cats were as near to it as they could get. The one on his lap was purring loudly, and he felt quite at ease. If he had to go home in the truck, he’d get Mr Abraham to drop him outside the gate, and then wait until he’d gone before he went inside. Yes, that’d do. He downed the last of the milk and carefully set the cat down on the floor. “We got a cat,” he said to Mr Abraham. “He’s called Melvyn, after Josie’s boyfriend. He’s in prison now…well, some sort of prison. You probably heard about it.”

The silence was electric. “Prison?” said Walter finally. “No, we’ve heard nothing about prison in this house.” He was making a great effort to remain normal, pleasant. He had to get this boy out of the house and back home without causing any more upset. “Get his coat, Enid,” he said. “I’ll put the bike in the truck, and we’ll go.”

§

The yard was very dark, and Jamie could just see the outline of the old truck over by the barn. “Why don’t you have an outside light, Mr Abraham?” he said. “My dad could fix you one of those that comes on if anybody goes by. Warns you of intruders!” Jamie laughed, completely at ease now. He couldn’t see in the darkness that there was no answering smile from Walter Abraham. Jamie climbed into the truck cab, and glanced back through the dusty window. His bike was safely in the back. And so was something else, someone else, hunched into the corner. Jamie looked harder. It wasn’t Mr Abraham, who was fiddling about at the front of the truck. All Jamie could see was a whitish face, and it was looking straight at him. His new-found confidence evaporated at once. Who was it? And why was it staring at him like that?

Walter climbed into the driving seat and turned the key. The engine spluttered and died. “Damn!” he said. He tried again, with the same result.

“There’s a man in the back,” Jamie said, and his voice wobbled.

“Nonsense,” said Walter impatiently. “It’s only shadows. Now let me get this engine started and we’ll be off.” He tried again, but still with no success. “Damn,” he said again. “I’ll have to go and get some stuff…engine’s probably damp. Wait here, boy, I shan’t be long.”

“Don’t leave me!” said Jamie, now very frightened. “There
is
a man in the back! I can see him!”

“You got a good imagination,” said Walter, and climbed out of the cab, disappearing into the darkness.

§

Lois and Derek arrived back at the house more or less at the same time. “Did you…?” Lois could see that Derek’s van was empty. No Jamie. She had had no luck, either, although she’d knocked up Bill and Rebecca to ask them. Bill had immediately pulled on his jacket and set off to get his bike.

“I’ll be able to use my ears as well as eyes,” he said. “The more of us looking, the quicker we’ll find him.” He was gone before Lois could protest. And anyway, she was glad. There was something so reassuring about Bill.

They went into the kitchen and found Josie and Douglas sitting with Gran at the table. Their faces dropped when they saw that Lois and Derek had no Jamie with them.

“Right,” said Lois. “Time to get Keith Simpson. I’ll go and phone.”

Gran looked up. “Wait a minute, Lois,” she said. “I bin thinking, and I’ve got a suggestion. It’s probably no good, but worth a try.”

“What?” said Lois baldly. She was feeling increasingly panicked, and had a hard job to remain calm in front of the others.

“Well, you know he was upset about missing his piano lesson…”

“So?” Lois was over by the door now, on her way to the telephone.

“Suppose he went to see Enid? He often goes over to fish in that stream with other kids in summer. He knows the way. He might’ve thought she’d be pleased to see him…” Her voice broke. “We’d all be pleased to see him right now,” said Lois, and burst into tears.

“Hey, Gran,” said Douglas. “That’s a good idea! Just the sort of stupid thing he would do. I know!” he said, with sudden inspiration. “Let’s look and see if his piano book’s still there!” He got up quickly and went to the door.

“Wait, Douglas,” said Gran. “I looked. It’s gone.”

Lois collected herself rapidly. “Oh my God,” she said. “Cathanger bloody Mill. Why didn’t I think of that?”