Missing Read online

  ‘You mean I used to, but I will again, and this great heffalump is a full-time job. It would cost me a fortune for professional childcare—’

  ‘It was never an option and you know it,’ Linda interrupted. ‘Maybe, if that poor wife of Miles’s weren’t—’

  ‘Don’t let’s go there again.’

  ‘But I think we should. The woman’s disappeared, Vivi, and it’s making me nervous. Miles told us himself how afraid she is of him having another son if he remarries. It’s why she won’t let him divorce her, and look what happened when she found out about you, what she did to her own daughter to make him give you up.’

  ‘She was under enormous stress … No, I know what you’re going to say. Sam went missing a long time ago, she should be over it by now, so maybe her problems go deeper than that, but think how you’d feel if you’d lost a child that way.’

  ‘I’m not denying it’s terrible. Horrible beyond bearing, but she’s not the only one it’s happened to, and people do manage to survive it and move on.’

  ‘How do you know? Who have we ever met, besides Miles and Jacqueline, that it’s happened to? They’re in the news for a while, then we never hear about them again, so how do you know what it’s like for them?’

  ‘OK, I don’t, but you can’t tell me you’re not worried about where Jacqueline might turn up, or what might be going on in that head of hers even as we speak. For all we know—’

  ‘Let’s not start speculating on things we know nothing about,’ Vivienne interrupted, wanting to stop her mother’s fear adding more fuel to her own. ‘As far as I remember, Sam’s sixteenth birthday is coming up, so think of how sad it must be making her.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t feel sorry for her,’ Linda replied earnestly, ‘but I have to tell you, Vivi, if she does anything to hurt you or Rufus—’

  ‘It’s not going to happen,’ Vivienne cut in. ‘You know very well that not even Miles knows about Rufus, or where you’re living now, so let’s end this … Rufus!’ she laughed, catching him as he launched himself at her.

  ‘Duh, duh, mum, mum, mum,’ he cried, bouncing up and down in her arms.

  Gazing at him with more love than words could express, she said, ‘It must be time for your bath, young man. I’ll just get my things in from the car, then we’ll go up.’

  ‘By the way,’ her mother said as she settled Rufus in his high chair, ‘I want to hear all about these firemen. Are you really going to teach them to dance?’

  Vivienne started to grin. ‘Not me personally,’ she answered, ‘but we’re lining someone up to do that. Actually, I’ve got some photos with me, so you can take a look at them if you like.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind,’ Linda twinkled. ‘What skills are they offering?’

  ‘So far we’ve got a gardener, a taxi driver, a painter and decorator, a car mechanic, a window cleaner, a DIY enthusiast and a Spanish teacher. I’m pretty sure there are going to be more, but it all depends on what their hobbies are and how useful they can be to others. Why don’t you come down to Devon and make a bid on one of them yourself when the time comes?’

  ‘I might just take you up on that,’ Linda commented dryly, and stooped to pick up the bricks Rufus had just flung on the floor, while Vivienne went to bring her bags in from the car.

  She was just struggling back through the front door when her mobile started to ring. ‘Can you get it, Mum?’ she called. ‘I left it on the table. Tell them I’ll ring back.’

  ‘Hello?’ she heard her mother saying, as she started up the stairs. ‘No, it’s— Yes, it is. Who’s that, please? Oh, Annie. How are you? Yes, I’m fine, thank you. And you? I see. Yes, you’d better speak to her. I’ll pass you over.’

  Surprised to be hearing from her next-door neighbour, Vivienne let go of her bags as her mother came down the hall, and took the phone. ‘Hi Annie,’ she said. ‘Is everything OK?’

  ‘I think so,’ Annie replied. ‘I was just checking to see if you knew your garage door was open?’

  Vivienne frowned. ‘I’m sure I closed it when I left,’ she said.

  ‘Oh well, you know how they sometimes flip open again. Would you like me to go and close it? I’ll get Geoff to come with me in case there’s been a break-in, but the connecting door to the house looked closed as I went by, so hopefully there’s no cause for alarm.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Vivienne said. ‘Actually, can you let yourself into the house to make sure everything’s all right?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll call back once we’ve checked it all over to put your mind at rest.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Vivienne said again, and clicking off she continued up the stairs, reminding herself that Annie was right, the garage doors sometimes did flip back open after closing, so that was almost certainly all that had happened.

  Finding the lamps already on in her bedroom, and the satin quilt turned back ready for her to get in later, she dropped everything on the bed and unzipped her bag. More than anything she wanted to believe that Jacqueline’s disappearance was connected to Sam’s sixteenth, but she couldn’t help being afraid that she might have somehow found out about Rufus. She kept telling herself it wasn’t possible, for she’d never even told Miles she was pregnant, never mind about the birth, and her mother had moved house before she’d even started to show, so the number of people who knew the identity of Rufus’s father was limited to those she trusted implicitly. However, she couldn’t stop thinking about what it would mean to Jacqueline to discover that Miles had a son. That kind of cruel twist of fate could prove the final straw for a woman whose suffering had never stopped over the years, and whose only reason for living had been in the hope she might one day find her child again.

  Starting as her mobile rang, she quickly grabbed it and clicked on.

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ Annie told her, and Vivienne practically unravelled with relief. ‘No break-in, and nothing seems to be missing from the garage,’ Annie continued, ‘so it was obviously a random flip-up. The door’s safely down now, so no need to worry.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Vivienne said warmly. ‘Thanks for letting me know. I’ll have to be more careful next time.’

  ‘It happens to us all. Fortunately so far we’ve been lucky. Anyway, call if you need anything, we’re here all weekend, then we’re off to Canada for a month, don’t forget.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten, and I’ll definitely keep an eye on the place. Have a wonderful time, if I don’t speak to you before you leave.’

  After ringing off Vivienne dropped the phone on the bed and went back downstairs to fetch Rufus for his bath.

  As usual, as she played with him, squeezing spongefuls of warm soapy water all over his lovely slippery skin, and pretending to be shocked when he splashed her, she was thinking of how delighted father and son would be with one another. She found it easy to picture them together, Miles’s hands so strong and tender on his son’s chubby little limbs, and Rufus’s delighted bubbles and squeals as he tried to grab his father’s nose. She imagined them sleeping side by side, or playing in a park. She could see Miles feeding him, rolling him over on the floor in a mock fight, or trying to be stern and failing. She couldn’t help it, but the longing for Miles to know his son made her forget how hard it might be for him to be reminded of the child he had lost – she thought only of how happy Rufus could make him. And more than anyone, she knew how much he deserved that happiness, for Sam’s loss had always been seen as his mother’s tragedy. No one had ever really considered how hard it had been for his father too.

  Miles was in a taxi on his way to visit friends for the evening. Though he appeared relaxed, with his long legs stretched out in front of him, and one arm propped on the window edge, the deep line between his brows betrayed his inner tension. Right up to the last minute he’d been tempted to call and say he couldn’t get to the dinner, but in the end he’d decided that a little relaxation with people he trusted not to gossip later, or push him to talk about Jacqueline, might do him some good. It might
also help him to get a better perspective on whether or not he’d made the right decision to involve Justine James the way he had.

  With a barely audible sigh, he turned to gaze out at the darkness. Everyone knew what a difficult time Justine was having at The News, so if she approached the investigation the way he wanted her to, she was bound to expect a ticket out of there as payment. Not that he was in a position to give her a job right now, but he could always open other doors for her, which he would, if she covered the story his way – or at least kept him informed of what the Critch was about. That kind of bold detail had yet to be spelled out between them, but she’d be fully aware of how he’d feel about the Critch dragging up the past and spilling it all over his Sunday rag. With Jacqueline missing there was every excuse to do just that, and whereas in other hands the story might be sensitively told, in the Critch’s it certainly wouldn’t. Of course Justine would be unable to influence her editor’s approach, but few were better placed to warn Miles if the Critch was about to make a splash, or, far worse, if he managed to turn up anything new.

  Looking down as his mobile started to ring, he saw it was Kelsey and immediately clicked on. ‘Hi, how’s it going down there?’ he asked, hoping she was in a less tricky mood than when he’d spoken to her earlier.

  ‘Everything’s great,’ she assured him chirpily. ‘Mrs D is making some pasta for us this evening, then we’re going to watch a couple of DVDs. I just wondered, Dad, would it be all right if we had some wine? Mrs D said I had to get your permission before she’ll give me the key to the cellar.’

  ‘How many are you?’

  ‘Five, including Mrs D.’

  ‘Then you can have a bottle of Pinot Grigio between you.’

  ‘Oh Dad! That is like so mean. We’ll hardly even get a glass each.’

  ‘OK, two bottles, but make sure Mrs Davies has more than the rest of you.’

  Sounding much happier with that, she said, ‘So what’s going on with you? Did you decide to go for dinner?’

  ‘Yes, I’m in a taxi on my way there now.’

  ‘Good, you need to get out, it’ll do you good.’

  Smiling at her parental tone, he said, ‘I take it there’s been no text or anything from Mum?’

  ‘Duh! If there had I’d tell you. Anyway, if she can’t care about us, why should we care about her?’

  He toyed with the idea of telling her about the missing money, but decided it could wait for now. ‘Has anyone tried to get in touch, from the police, or the press?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I turned off the phones, like you said, but there was a bunch of reporters hanging about the gates earlier.’

  Suppressing a groan, he said, ‘Have they gone now?’

  ‘Don’t know.’

  ‘Well, stay away from them if you can. I don’t want them hassling you. What time are you going back to school on Monday?’

  ‘First thing. Mr Davies is going to drive us in the Land Cruiser, which is like really wicked because— Oh no, I better not tell you that, or you’ll get mad, or worried … Anyway, we have to be there by nine, but he said he doesn’t mind taking us that early.’

  ‘And it’s wicked because?’ he prompted.

  ‘Oh, Dad! I knew you wouldn’t let it go.’

  ‘So let’s hear it.’

  ‘Well, it’s because we can see better into all the other cars, and sometimes if we spot fit guys we like give them a wave, or something. Now don’t start going off on one, because it’s nothing to worry about.’

  ‘I’m chilled,’ he assured her.

  She laughed. Then in a slightly less cheerful tone she said, ‘Have you seen her while you’ve been in London?’

  ‘No, but I’ve spoken to her,’ he answered carefully.

  He almost felt the freeze. ‘What for?’ she demanded.

  ‘I wanted to see her, but she turned me down. She’s concerned about you—’

  ‘Oh puh-leeze. I don’t need her to be concerned about me—’

  ‘Then forget I mentioned it. I just wanted you to know that I am in touch with her—’

  ‘So where does that leave Mum?’

  ‘It doesn’t leave her anywhere, but this probably isn’t a conversation we should be having now.’

  Silence.

  ‘Kelsey?’

  Still no response.

  ‘I know you’re still there, I can hear your neural commotion.’

  ‘Don’t try to make me laugh, because it won’t work.’

  Able to tell she was close, he said, ‘Would you like me to ring off now?’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘I’ll leave my phone switched on in case you want to call. Have a good time all of you, and remember one bottle between you.’

  ‘You said two!’ she cried.

  ‘See what a generous dad I am.’

  ‘Oh yeah, like really.’

  ‘Love you.’

  ‘I suppose I love you too,’ she retorted tartly, and the line went dead.

  Clicking off his own phone he turned to stare out of the window again, absently registering the garish shops and randomly lit buildings they were passing, a blur of vivid colours sprawled across the black canvas of night. Though he was thinking about Kelsey, it didn’t take long for Jacqueline to dominate his thoughts, and from there it was a short step to wondering about Sam and his approaching sixteenth birthday – and if that was why she’d gone. Did she really still believe he was out there somewhere, and that she could find him now, after all this time? Of course she did, because that was what it was like being the parent of a missing child, you never stopped wondering, or waiting, or asking yourself questions: Is he happy wherever he is, and loved? How is he doing at school? Does he have any idea who he really is? Is he still alive? Please God, don’t let anyone be hurting him.

  As usual the loss tightened like a fist in his chest, so he tried to turn his mind back to Jacqueline and their journey to the station the morning she was supposed to be getting on a train. He’d relived it so many times now that he soon let it go and began recalling instead his interview with the detectives. Of course he should have told them about Sam, but being helpful to the police didn’t come easily to him, after his experiences fifteen years ago. He wondered if they’d realised yet that Jacqueline’s fortieth birthday was going to coincide with their missing son’s sixteenth. With a wrench inside that was like a dull scythe rending apart a scar to show a perfect picture beneath, he remembered how ecstatic they’d been when Jacqueline had given birth on her twenty-fourth birthday. It was a double celebration that had made them doubly happy to think of all the joint celebrations to come. Neither of them had ever dreamt, even for a second, that they wouldn’t even reach the next one.

  Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he watched the Euston Road traffic lights turn from red to green, then let his eyes drift back to the darkness as the driver pulled forward. The woman Jacqueline had been then was a stranger to him now, someone he’d known a very long time ago, but had never forgotten, or stopped loving, if only for the memories that were buried somewhere beneath the mountain of pain. Many would say they were foolish to have stayed together once everything had started to break down, and he might agree, but Jacqueline had needed their marriage, and perhaps, in a way, he had too, at least for a while. The time had long passed, however, since he’d felt the nurturing strength of their connection; now he only knew its weight, as though it were dragging him to a place that might drown him.

  Jacqueline felt a similar burden, he was sure of it, though he doubted she’d ever admit it. It was why she had to take herself off from time to time, to be free of him and the reason they were still together – or perhaps she just wanted to be alone with that reason. He had no clear idea of what she needed, because they’d never discussed it. All he knew was how he used to panic when she’d first started to go, not knowing where she was, or if she’d ever return. He’d often wondered if she realised how cruel it was to put him through such fear, considering their past, or if,
in fact, it was why she did it. Whatever the reason, he’d eventually learned how to play the game, understanding that his role was simply to worry and wait until she was ready to turn up again. She always did, occasionally with an apology, but more often with no words at all.

  He thought back to the night before she’d left, this last time, when he’d made it as clear as he could that no amount of blackmail, emotional or otherwise, was going to change his mind. Their marriage was over and had been for years, so it was time to go their separate ways. It had come as no surprise when she’d started accusing him of wanting to have another son with a woman who wouldn’t be so careless as to let someone snatch him – it was a frequent refrain.

  ‘You’ve always blamed me for what happened,’ she’d cried. ‘And now you want to punish me by replacing him, as if he doesn’t matter any more. Well, he does to me, and whether you like it or not, he’s still your son and no one can replace him.’

  He’d given up trying to reason with her, because he knew it was impossible. Nor did he deny it when she accused him of wanting to go back to Vivienne, because it was true. However, there was nothing to be gained from telling Jacqueline she was right, unless he’d wanted the scene to deteriorate even further, so he’d simply taken himself off to a guest room and closed the door. She hadn’t tried to come after him, nor had she mentioned it again the next morning, which was typical, for she always backed away from the issues she was afraid to resolve.

  Looking down at his mobile as it bleeped with a message, he saw it was from Jacqueline’s sister, and immediately opened it.

  Any news?

  Texting back, not yet, he flipped the phone closed again and tucked it into his pocket. He didn’t doubt Janice was concerned, but he knew very well that she considered Jacqueline his responsibility much more than hers, and he supposed she was right. For as long as Jacqueline continued to cling to their marriage and prop herself up with his conscience, she would be his concern, though he guessed it wouldn’t change even if he did manage to divorce her. The pain of her loss, the guilt and despair of ever knowing what had happened to Sam, had devastated her life and time had proved she was never going to recover. It was as though a black hole had opened up in their world the day Sam was taken, and everything they had been before, or might ever be in the future, had simply vanished into it.