Missing (23 page)

His face had turned deathly white. ‘How the hell do you know about that?’ he demanded, in a tone that chilled the heat of her fury.

‘What does it matter how I—’ She stepped back as he came towards her.

‘This isn’t a game, Justine,’ he said, his voice dangerously low. ‘I want to know how you found out, and who you’ve told.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘So you’re not in such a hurry to get rid of me now,’ she sneered.

Grabbing her arm, he wrenched it up between them and twisted it hard. ‘How do you know?’ he growled into her face.

Unnerved enough not to push him any further, she said, ‘I had her followed.’

‘When? Why? What prompted you?’

‘I’ve always kept tabs on her, ever since you two broke up. I knew it wouldn’t be the end between you, that something—’

‘If you’ve known about Rufus all this time, why have you never said anything before? It’s a headline-grabbing story, especially now, so why haven’t you run with it?’

Trapped by her own lie she had to think fast, then suddenly realising how she could win back his favour, she said, ‘Believe it or not, I kept it to myself out of loyalty to you. I’m not going to be the one to slap that child’s existence all over the front page. You want to protect him, and I understand that.’

His expression was loaded with cynicism, but he said no more, only pushed her away and turned back towards the fire.

Rubbing her wrist she watched him, quietly thrilled by the confirmation she’d just received that he really was the father.

‘OK, so where do we go from here?’ she asked finally.

He glanced up. ‘I thought I’d made myself plain. You have to leave.’

Her eyes rounded with amazement. ‘Even knowing what I do, you’re still—’

His scowl was suddenly terrible again. ‘If you’re
about
to embark on an attempt at blackmail your career really will be over,’ he warned.

‘Nothing so crude,’ she retorted, though of course he’d read her correctly.

He flicked her a glance, then checked his watch. ‘There’s a train leaving in just under an hour.’

‘Forget it. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘I’m afraid you are. I’ll just—’

‘But it’s pouring down, and you’ve got this great big house …’

‘I didn’t realise Kelsey was going to be here, and she still holds you partly responsible for what happened the last time her mother came back.’

Justine flushed with guilt, but her mettle held firm. ‘Does this mean I’m to believe Jacqueline’s going to stage another return?’ she dared to challenge. Then, quickly realising that she’d gone too far, she added, ‘How was I supposed to know she’d pull a stunt like that?’

‘None of us did, but it happened,’ he growled, ‘so perhaps you can understand why you need to leave now.’

With a certain amount of bravado she said, ‘If you can find me a number for the Nobody Inn, I’ll try to book in there for the night.’ Then, when it looked as though he was about to object, ‘For God’s sake Miles, I’m hardly going back to London now, when so much is happening here. I’ve got a job to do, and like it or not, I’m going to do it, even if it means camping out on your doorstep along with everyone else.’

Looking daggers, he crossed to the dining-room dresser and took out a well-thumbed contact book. After giving her the number, he dropped the book back in the drawer, and waited for her to make the call.

‘Please tell me,’ he said when finally he took her out to the car, ‘that I can rely on you to keep Rufus’s existence to yourself, at least until we know what’s happened to Jacqueline.’

She gave him a smile as he pulled open the passenger door for her to get in. ‘Of course you can rely on me,’ she assured him, ‘but only because it’s you. Were it anyone else, it might be a different story,’ and with a playful wink she sank gratefully into the car.

Upstairs in her bedroom Kelsey was sitting in the window seat watching her father’s car disappearing down the drive, red tail lights glowing through the trees in the darkness, like the eyes of a deer. It was raining again, slanting like tiny pins through the lights around the lake. The surface rippled and plumed, while the giant gunneras surrounding it rose and swooped as though peering down into the murky depths.

She’d been crying so hard that her chest hurt and her ribs ached. She wanted it to be over; she didn’t want all this horribleness any more. Her mother should come back now. It was just stupid and spiteful staying away like this, making everyone worried and afraid. Not that she cared where she was, but Kelsey had sent more than a hundred text messages since Jacqueline had disappeared, and still she hadn’t had a reply and that was just mean.

She pushed a fist to her mouth to force back another swell of emotion. It was all wrong. Everything was spiralling out of control and she didn’t know how to stop it. Her friends wanted her to meet boys she didn’t like, or they kept asking about her mum, and she was feeling such a freak because she was so different to
everyone
else. She hated them, and herself, and she wanted her dad to make them go away. Or he should go out and find her mum, not bring people like Justine James into the house when what had happened before was her fault.

Taking a breath, she dragged her hands over her face, stretching the skin and pressing in the bones. Then, wiping her fingers on her jeans, she hugged her knees to her chest and stared down at the lake. Her dad should have come up to see her before he left, but he hadn’t, and anyway what did she care? He was going to be mad about her not going back to school, and they’d end up rowing and he’d wish he’d never had her, and she’d wish she’d never been born …

Catching a movement on the lake she watched one of the Muscovys come gliding out of the reeds, then climb up onto the platform of the duckhouse that her dad and the gardener had built especially for nesting. It was more than two years now since a flock of Canada geese had come along and turfed out all the other birds to make a nest for themselves. The eggs already laid had been destroyed, except one, as it turned out, which no one knew about until eventually it hatched along with all the snowy-white young of the Canada geese. Kelsey had named the little rogue gosling Henrietta. Though she was brown and dull and nothing like the others she was taken into the family anyway, a small bundle of dingy feathers, skimming happily about the lake with her parents and siblings until one day her world had turned into a frightening and lonely place.

More tears rolled onto Kelsey’s cheeks as she remembered Henrietta’s distress as her mother had swooped around and around the lake, trying to coax her small ugly goose to fly. But Henrietta couldn’t. She
was
only able to paddle or waddle along helplessly, frantically, squawking and flapping her wings, desperate not to be left behind. In the end, Henrietta’s father had come to put his neck gently over hers, stroking her softly, until turning to the rest of his family he’d led the long run down the lawn and they’d soared off into the blue beyond. Watching from the bank, Kelsey had been inconsolable. She’d sobbed and sobbed, unable to bear poor Henrietta’s confusion and heartbreak. Nothing in her life had ever felt so terrible as watching the plain little goose being left alone on a lake that had always been such a happy and safe place to be. Vivienne had been with Kelsey that day, and had put her arms around her, holding her tight. Henrietta’s tragedy was the only moment of closeness she and Vivienne had ever shared, but Kelsey had broken away quickly, before Vivienne could let go first.

If it weren’t for Vivienne her mum and dad would work things out and they’d be a family again. It was all Vivienne’s fault. Her throat seemed to close over then, because there was such a horrible mix of weird things going on in her head. Like she remembered when her mum had come back, and how much relief and happiness she’d felt because she hadn’t left her after all. Then her mother had tried to kill them both, which was OK, actually, because it had meant she’d intended to take Kelsey with her. It had felt nice for her mother to want her, for once. The anger and bitterness had only come later, when Kelsey had finally realised that her mother was still looking through her, instead of at her. All she really wanted was Sam, and somehow Kelsey was in the way.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, she couldn’t stand any more. So much anger and fear and confusion surged
up
inside her that her whole body was racked with despair. ‘I don’t want to be here,’ she sobbed, pressing her hands to her head. ‘I want to go away where no one can find me.’ Her father would be sorry then. Everyone would. They might even stop thinking about Sam and her mother all the time, because she’d be missing too and it would serve them all right if they couldn’t find her.

Chapter Ten

VIVIENNE WAS AT
the horse sanctuary, standing with Reg Thomas, the local auctioneer, whose broad face was tilted upwards as they watched two police helicopters swoop by overhead.

‘You knows what all thass about, don’t you?’ Reg said gravely as the helicopters began to hover a few hundred yards away. ‘They’m looking for the woman what’s gone missing. Mrs Avery. I expect you’ve read about it, or heard it on the news.’

Realising he hadn’t made the connection, Vivienne continued to watch without replying. She could hardly bear to contemplate the horror of what Miles must be going through now. It was too much, she was thinking. Finding out he had a son who’d been kept from him, the indignity of having his home turned upside down in search of his wife, knowing the police suspected him of playing some part in her disappearance, just as they had when Sam had been taken. She wished she could be with him to give him some support, and a sense that at least one part of his life wasn’t falling apart. Though considering the conclusions the police were already jumping to over Rufus, she was hardly a safe haven for him now.

Remembering his anger last night at what he’d seen
as
a betrayal, she felt the remorse building up in her again. She couldn’t imagine he’d feel any differently this morning, though she had no way of knowing, since he hadn’t returned any of her calls.

‘They’m going to have a heck of a job on their hands if they’m about searching the moor,’ the auctioneer commented, scratching his head. ‘Probably won’t never find her if they has to do that.’

‘You’re assuming,’ Vivienne said, trying to keep her tone light, ‘that she’s there to be found, and as far as I’m aware there’s no evidence to say she is.’

He shrugged. ‘True enough,’ he conceded, ‘but you got to admit, it’s starting to look a bit suspicious now, with no sign of her going into the station and him not even contacting the police till three weeks or more after she’d gone.’ He jammed his hands in his pockets and puffed out his chest. ‘Met her once or twice,’ he said, his owlish eyes moving out across the field where half a dozen or more rescued horses were tearing up tufts of grass and munching pleasurably. ‘Nice woman. Quiet. Kept herself to herself mostly, but she was always polite. Brought some pieces in for auction a couple of months ago: an old Byzantine clock, and some paintings she said was done by her great aunt. All right they was, fetched a bit too. My missus bought one of ’em.’ He shook his head and sighed. ‘Bad business about her kiddie,’ he said. ‘Bad business all round. We don’t know the half of it, do we, what goes on in other people’s lives. Must be terrible never knowing what happened, if he’s still out there somewhere, or if someone did away with him all those years ago.’

Vivienne smiled weakly. ‘I can’t imagine going through anything worse,’ she said truthfully, and
starting
back towards the vast, newly built barn they were to use for the auction she took out her phone to check for messages. Still nothing from Miles.

‘So,’ the auctioneer was saying as he followed her in through the giant doors, ‘all you’ve got to do is come up with a date, and I’ll make sure the chairs and the podium and everything’s all set up.’

‘I’m contacting BT about putting in some phone lines,’ she said, looking around to see if anything existed already. The walls were mostly bare, however, as was the cement floor where several footprints were scuffed into the chippings and sawdust, and large bundles of hay were waiting to be stacked onto a nearby forklift. ‘We’ll have to arrange for some kind of heating, too,’ she added, with a shiver.

He was about to respond when the sound of a car pulling up outside made them both turn around. Stella was chuckling, even before she turned off the engine.

‘Blimey, what a palaver I’ve had getting here,’ she grumbled amicably, as she came to join them. ‘Road’s all blocked up by the press and police cars. Right bloody circus it is. Nearly ran one of them satellite things over when I was reversing to go round t’other way. Not sure the police has ’em under control. They looks a pretty rowdy bunch to me, all trying to get into the Averys’ place. Bloody good job they don’t know you’re up here,’ she said to Vivienne, ‘or we’d probably have ’em swarming all over us too.’

Reg Thomas turned to Vivienne in surprise. ‘Well, I never,’ he said, shaking his head as he stared at her. ‘Fancy me not … You’m the Vivienne Kane they bin talking about on the news, aren’t you? And there was me going on about Mrs Avery …’

With as pleasant a smile as she could muster,
Vivienne
said, ‘If you don’t mind, I’m not here about that.’

‘No, no, course not,’ he said, clearly embarrassed. ‘Hope I didn’t say nothing …’

‘You didn’t,’ Vivienne assured him quickly. ‘Now, if we can just run through the arrangements we’ve made so far, and bring Stella up to speed.’

‘No problem, you can leave that to me,’ he told her as her mobile started to ring.

Thanking him, she hurriedly checked who it was, then went outside to take the call.

‘How’s it going?’ Alice asked as soon as she’d clicked on. ‘Have you heard back from Miles yet?’

‘No. There’s a lot of activity over at Moorlands, though. Helicopters, police, press … It’s a nightmare. I can hardly bear to think what it must be like for him.’

‘He’ll handle it, I’m sure. I’m more concerned about you and what you’re going to do.’