The Hornbeam Tree Read online

  Completely.

  ‘Oh wow!’ Allison shouted. ‘Tell him to send a picture.’

  Molly typed it in, and the message came back:

  What’s your email address?

  ‘Oh my God, he’s going to send one!’ Molly gasped, turning hot and shaky.

  ‘Give him your email. Give him mine too. I’ve got to have this.’

  Without thinking Molly did as she was told, then waited for a reply.

  Check your email.

  ‘Out of the way!’ Allison cried, pushing her off the chair. ‘He must have sent a picture,’ and opening her inbox she found the message, complete with attachment.

  Both girls’ eyes rounded like saucers as the picture started to download.

  ‘OH MY GOD!’ Allison gulped.

  Molly just stared at it, speechless.

  Allison turned to her, brimming over with excitement. ‘Do you think it’s his?’ she said. ‘He could have cut it out of a magazine.’

  Have you got it yet?

  Feverishly Allison turned back to the keyboard, and carried on as though she were Molly.

  Yes. It’s HUGE!

  It’s all yours, Sexxy. What are you

  going to do with it?

  ‘Allison! Is that you up there?’

  ‘Oh shit, it’s my mother,’ Allison gasped, and right in the middle of the reply she shut the computer down. ‘Yeah, it’s me,’ she shouted back. ‘I thought she was going to be out all evening,’ she hissed to Molly. ‘Make out like we’re doing some homework or something.’

  ‘Oh, you’re busy studying,’ her mother said, coming in the door. ‘Good girls.’ Her bloodshot eyes moved to Molly. ‘Hello dear,’ she said, taking a sip of heavily spiked tea from the mug she was holding. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine thank you, Mrs Bond. How are you?’

  ‘Oh, you know,’ she sighed.

  ‘Can you leave us alone now,’ Allison said. ‘We’re trying to finish this.’

  Janice took another sip. ‘I thought you might like to know that Toby’s asked to have a party the weekend of his birthday,’ she told her. ‘I said we could make it a combined one, for both of you. He’s got some very handsome friends,’ she added, winking at Molly. ‘Might find yourself a boyfriend.’

  ‘Muuum!’ Allison pleaded.

  Janice smiled at Molly. ‘How’s your mother, dear? I saw her the other day, she’s looking splendid. Do you know if she used the Atkins diet? I’ve been thinking about it myself …’

  ‘Shut up!’ Allison snapped.

  ‘But darling, I’d love to lose some weight …’

  ‘Just stop talking stupid and go!’ Allison raged.

  ‘I’m only saying, we girls need to make the most of ourselves, even at your age …’

  Allison leapt to her feet. ‘If you don’t get out now, I’ll throw you out,’ she warned.

  Janice’s eyes boggled. ‘Goodness, do you speak to your mother that way, Molly? I’m sure you don’t.’

  ‘She’s even worse than I am, if you must know,’ Allison yelled, ‘because you’re all the same, you stupid middle-aged cows, who can’t hang on to your husbands and get drunk on gin every day, and fall down the stairs and behave like total slappers. Look at you! Who can blame Daddy for never coming home, when you’re such a fucking mess! I’d never come home if I didn’t have to. I hate it here. All you ever do is drink and try to get off with Toby’s friends. You’re a fucking embarrassment, so just take your tea and get the bloody hell out of here.’

  Janice’s face was white with shock. Anger was sparking in her eyes, though no words were forming as she swayed slightly and tried to keep focused on what her daughter had said. When she finally opened her mouth to respond a hiccup emerged.

  Allison turned away in disgust, and continued to fume as the door closed behind her mother, and footsteps sounded on the stairs. ‘Can you believe that stupid cow?’ she hissed. ‘I hate her. I mean it, I really hate her. As soon as I’m sixteen I’m getting my own flat and I’ll never come back to this place again. You can come with me, if you like.’

  Molly’s eyes were wide.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake!’ Allison spat. ‘I don’t know why I bother with you. You are like, so dumb and immature and if it weren’t for me you wouldn’t have any bloody friends, so learn to be grateful.’

  ‘I am,’ Molly assured her.

  ‘Then you’ve got to meet someone off the Net,’ Allison snapped. ‘If you don’t, you’ll be out and then you won’t be able to come to Toby’s party, and Brad’s bound to be there …’

  ‘I just don’t want to meet this creep,’ Molly said. ‘Not after all the emails and stuff. Can’t I meet someone else?’

  Allison was going back online. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said, busy on the keyboard, ‘just hurry up and do it, or you won’t be one of the Daughters any more. Shit! I’ve run out of paper,’ she complained, leaning over to her printer. ‘I want to take that picture to school to show the others. You’ll get some cred for that, Molly, so print it out when you get home and bring it over tomorrow. And don’t let us down with everything else. You’ve got to the end of the week to achieve Step Three, or the wrath of Lilith will be upon you, and you definitely won’t be coming to the party.’

  Michelle was wrapped in towels as she crossed the narrow landing from the ornate Victorian bathroom to the tiny box bedroom that was hers. Her suitcase was still taking up almost as much space as the bed, and what few things she’d unpacked were cluttering up the surface of the antique chest that had once belonged to her parents. It made her feel nostalgic to look at it, as did the photograph of Molly as a toddler on the window sill, where she didn’t appear very much different to how she was now, behind the make-up and scowl. Her niece’s need was so great, Michelle was thinking as she gazed at it, greater than she could even begin to imagine, for Molly had no idea of how to survive without her mother, and why should she? No-one ever did until it happened, and now it was going to happen to Molly, in a different way to the many other children Michelle had seen lose theirs over the years, but no less tragically. Molly’s impending loss was why Michelle wouldn’t leave, not even to try and find Tom. She and Molly needed all the time left to them now to forge a relationship that would allow Katie to go as peacefully as she deserved.

  Letting the towel pool at her feet, she reached for her thin white dressing gown, and had just finished belting it when the phone started to ring.

  Thinking immediately of Tom and those who had yet to call back, she ran into Katie’s room and grabbed the phone.

  ‘Hello! Is Sajid here,’ he said. ‘I am calling from Islamic Republic of Pak …’

  ‘Sajid. It’s Michelle. What’s happened? Where are you?’

  ‘In Lahore. I go to Karachi tomorrow, but I receive email from Mr Tom.’

  ‘When?’ Michelle cried. ‘What does it say?’

  ‘Few minutes ago. I check and there is email. Not earlier. Only now.’

  ‘What does it say, Sajid? Do you know where he is?’

  ‘He ask for money. He tell me to take money to a place.’

  ‘What place? How much money?’

  ‘One hundred thousand rupees. He say he will send me name of place tomorrow.’

  ‘One hundred thousand rupees! Where are you going to get so much money?’

  ‘Do you have it, Miss Michelle?’ he asked sheepishly.

  ‘No! I mean I can get it, but when does he need it by?’

  ‘Email not say. I forward on to you, so you can read too.’

  ‘Good. Listen, I’m going to look at it now, and I’ll call you back. Are you on your usual number?’

  ‘At my brother’s carpet shop,’ he answered. ‘Yes, I am there.’

  Immediately she rang off and ran downstairs to turn on the computer. ‘Damn!’ she cried, remembering Katie had taken it with her. At the same instant she recalled Molly’s. She rushed back upstairs, threw open Molly’s door, ploughed through the discarded clothes, CDs and magazines on t
he floor, and turned on the computer. It seemed to take an eternity to warm up, but once there she clicked on Outlook Express and to her relief it made an automatic connection.

  She wasn’t interested in Molly’s emails, only in getting to her own, so she quickly went through to hotmail and typed in her user name and password. She was just watching her messages download when a voice shrieked from the door.

  ‘What are you doing in my room! How dare you go on my computer?’

  Mortified, Michelle swung round. ‘Molly, I’m sorry, it’s an emergency,’ she cried.

  ‘You’ve got no fucking right coming in here. No-one comes in unless I say so, so get out, NOW!’

  Her anger was so palpable it almost felt like a blow. ‘Molly, I’m sorry,’ Michelle cried, starting to get up. ‘I’m really, really sorry.’

  ‘I don’t care. Just go.’

  ‘I am, but please, will you just let me check …’

  ‘No!’ Molly screamed. ‘My computer’s private …’

  ‘What on earth’s going on?’ Katie demanded, appearing behind Molly in the doorway.

  ‘She was on my computer,’ Molly raged. ‘I never said she could come in here. That computer’s private, and you’ve got no right …’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Katie cut in.

  ‘She better not have been snooping around my private stuff …’

  ‘I haven’t, Molly, I swear,’ Michelle told her. ‘I was just …’

  ‘Why don’t you go back to where you came from!’ Molly hissed. ‘We don’t want you here. You’re in the way and …’

  ‘Molly, you’re grounded for a week,’ Katie cut in.

  ‘No fucking way!’

  ‘If you use that language again it’ll be two.’

  ‘Fuck!’ Molly spat.

  Ignoring her Katie turned to Michelle.

  ‘Sajid’s had an email from Tom,’ Michelle quickly explained. ‘He’s forwarded it on … Molly, I swear I haven’t been prying into …’

  ‘All right, let’s go downstairs and check on my computer,’ Katie said, putting an arm across Molly to let Michelle past.

  Molly was glaring furiously, but before she could start snarling again Katie thrust her into the room, grabbed Michelle out of it, and quickly closed the door. ‘I think you’ve just learned never to touch a teenager’s computer,’ she said, wryly.

  Still sobered by the experience, and not yet able to see the funny side, Michelle merely followed her sister down the stairs and waited for her to unpack her laptop.

  A few minutes later she’d reconnected with the Internet and was reading the email Tom had sent to Sajid.

  Bring 100,000 rupees to place in

  next email. Tom.

  M. YTNQQJ QQJXXZW

  Katie looked at Michelle. ‘What do all those letters mean?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s a code we use,’ Michelle answered. ‘The M is for Michelle, the rest is going to take some working out. Do you have a pen and paper?’

  After taking both from a drawer and passing them over, Katie went to the fridge and took out a bottle of wine.

  ‘How much is one hundred thousand rupees?’ she asked, watching Michelle count on her fingers, then jot something down.

  ‘About two thousand dollars. A virtually impossible sum for someone like Sajid to raise, so the answer to where he should get it is probably here.’

  Katie filled two glasses and carried them to the table. ‘Can I help at all?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m almost there. I wonder if there’s any significance to the amount,’ Michelle continued, almost to herself. ‘It doesn’t sound much to buy himself out of prison, or a kidnap … XWVUT – S,’ she said, and wrote it down. Finally, she sat back, and turned the notepad round so that Katie could read it.

  Katie frowned. ‘Toille Llessur,’ she said. ‘Would that be a rare form of Punjabi, or some kind of exotic undergarment?’

  Chuckling, Michelle took a sip of wine, and turned the notepad back. ‘Actually, it’s a name,’ she said, ‘but not one I know. Elliot Russell?’

  Katie’s eyes opened wide with astonishment. ‘Elliot?’ she said. ‘He’s a journalist, here in England.’

  ‘Tom must have guessed you’d know him,’ Michelle responded. ‘And presumably he wants to make contact.’

  Remembering that Tom had lost all his personal belongings in the raid on his flat, Katie said, ‘If he’s pulling Elliot in on his story then there must be a British connection.’

  Michelle regarded her warily.

  ‘He couldn’t have chosen anyone better,’ Katie informed her. ‘I’ve known Elliot a long time, and he’s good. He lives with Laurie Forbes, another journalist who produces an investigative report programme … Or he did. They were supposed to get married, about a month ago, but something went wrong, something to do with another woman, and the wedding was called off. Rumour has it they’re back together now, but I’m rather out of the loop these days, so I don’t know how true that is. What matters to us though, is getting hold of Elliot’s email address so we can pass it on to Tom.’

  ‘Do you have his number?’ Michelle asked, not wanting to waste any more time.

  Katie glanced at the clock. Ten past eight. ‘The home number I have for him is out of date now,’ she answered, ‘but there’s a chance he might still be at his office.’

  As she got up from the table, she could feel a stirring sense of excitement. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve needed my old contacts book,’ she confessed, opening a dresser drawer, and feeling as though she were reconnecting with a lifeline. Her eyes came up to Michelle’s and began sparkling as she said, ‘You know, there’s probably not much we can do to help out, being stuck here, but if there does turn out to be something, like making phone calls or doing some background research, I wouldn’t mind giving it a go.’

  ‘Do you think that’s wise?’ Michelle responded, clearly not thinking so. ‘It won’t have been what Tom intended when he sent the email.’

  ‘I’m sure he didn’t,’ Katie said, ‘but I’m equally sure that I don’t want the rest of my life to be all about dying, so if this gives me the opportunity to be involved again, to focus on something beyond my own little world, I want to take it.’

  Michelle was still uneasy. ‘What about Molly?’ she said.

  ‘I’ll still be here. I’m not going anywhere, and it’s only a small role I’m talking about. Something that makes me feel as though I’m living again.’

  Not having the heart to refuse when she could see how much it meant to Katie, Michelle smiled and refilled her glass as she sat down at the table to dial Elliot’s number.

  Chapter Five

  IT WAS JUST after eight fifteen as Elliot Russell knocked on the front door of his own apartment. He was late, which wasn’t a great start, but his timekeeping never had been a strong point, so with any luck Laurie wouldn’t be expecting him till now. He had his own key, of course, but after recent events he wasn’t too sure when he’d be given the go-ahead to use it again.

  As he waited his strong, forbidding features were set in an even deeper scowl than normal, while his imposing height and physique somewhat belied how he was feeling inside. Indeed he was silently cursing the nerves that were making him feel like a damned schoolboy, for of all the difficult, even dangerous situations he’d faced in his life, and there were plenty, he didn’t recall ever feeling as anxious as this. He guessed that wasn’t true, since there were instances when he’d come very close to losing his life, but that, he’d learned recently, came second to losing Laurie.

  He wondered why it was taking her so long to answer. It wouldn’t be like her to stand him up, or not call if she’d been delayed getting home, so she was presumably there. Maybe she was in the bathroom, or outside, on the wide balcony that overlooked the river and Tower Bridge. It was a nice evening, warm for late September, so she could have taken a drink out there and got caught up on the phone.

  He was about to knock again when he heard the sound of the
latch turning.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, as she opened the door.

  ‘Hi,’ she responded, standing back for him to come in.

  He could see by her flushed cheeks and tousled blonde hair that she’d just woken up, which wasn’t surprising for she’d still be jet-lagged after the flight back from Bali two days ago. She was beautifully suntanned too, and if he’d ever seen her looking more desirable he was at a loss to recall it right now.

  She left him to close the door and follow her into the huge, open-plan sitting room that included a state-of-the-art Poggenpohl kitchen, an open-tread staircase that rose to the mezzanine level and all their furniture, books, pictures and memorabilia from over the years. No matter that he wasn’t living here any more, it still felt like home. He’d give almost anything to come back, to be as they were just a few short months ago, together and happy and turning this fabulous old warehouse apartment into a uniquely styled home just for them. How could he have put it all in jeopardy? How was he ever going to make her understand the depth of his regret?

  ‘What would you like to drink?’ she asked, stifling a yawn.

  ‘Whatever you’re having.’

  She walked round to the kitchen and took a bottle of vodka from the freezer. If she made Cosmopolitans he’d take it as a good sign, for they’d drunk a lot of them whilst in Bali on what should have been their honeymoon, but wasn’t, thanks to his betrayal. In fact, considering the magnitude of what he’d done, just weeks before they were due to get married, it was nothing short of a miracle that she’d agreed to go with him. She’d made it clear before they went, though, that it wasn’t instant forgiveness, nor was she offering any guarantees that it would eventually come. She’d merely accepted that they needed to talk without the pressures and interruptions of their everyday lives, and as the honeymoon was already booked and paid for it had seemed a reasonable idea to go.

  How much easier it had been, all those thousands of miles from home, to feel that they were recapturing at least some of what they’d lost. He could only wish it felt that easy now, but after two days of being back it was already clear to them both that they needed to find a new way forward based on the reality of their lives here in London, not on the romantic idyll of a faraway island.