Missing Page 31

  Joy wasn’t looking convinced. ‘She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who’d be an accomplice to a crime,’ she said.

  Sadler threw her a meaningful glance. ‘Our prisons are full of people who look like butter wouldn’t melt,’ he reminded her, ‘but on your advice, Detective Constable, I’m trying to keep an open mind. Is everything set up down there?’

  ‘We’ve got an interview room in the custody area,’ she told him. ‘I’ll ask Mr Avery to wait in reception, shall I?’

  Sadler nodded, and picking up his mobile he followed her out into the corridor.

  Several minutes later Joy was watching the housekeeper’s soft, crumpled face as Sadler, having explained what was about to happen, leaned forward to start the tape.

  ‘Hello. My name is Jacqueline Avery …’

  ‘Oh my goodness,’ Mrs Davies exclaimed, clasping her hands to her cheeks. ‘Yes, that’s her.’ She looked up in shock, her eyes darting anxiously between Sadler and Joy as Sadler stopped the tape. ‘It’s her,’ she repeated, as though afraid he might doubt her.

  Joy glanced at Sadler, expecting him to challenge the old woman, but for the moment he appeared to have nothing to say.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Joy asked.

  ‘Positive,’ Mrs Davies answered.

  ‘Would you like to listen to the rest of the tape, just to be certain?’

  ‘I don’t need to, but I will if you want me to.’

  Sadler nodded the go-ahead, so Joy restarted the tape.

  At the end of it tears were shining in Mrs Davies’s eyes. ‘I always knew he’d never done nothing wrong,’ she said, searching for a Kleenex. ‘See, she’s not dead at all. She’s there, speaking on that machine, telling you she’s all right so you can stop that blooming nonsense around his house now, turning up his garden, and having helicopters flying all over the place. Frankly, if you don’t mind me saying, I think you owes him an apology—’

  ‘Thank you for coming in, Mrs Davies,’ Sadler interrupted. ‘You’ve been extremely helpful.’

  She looked uncertainly at Joy, clearly not knowing whether that was a dismissal or not.

  Smiling, Joy put a hand on her arm and walked her to the door.

  ‘Just one thing before you go,’ Sadler said.

  Mrs Davies turned back.

  ‘Are you sure you’ve never heard the name Anne Cates before?’

  The old lady’s face was blank. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I mean, not so’s I can remember.’

  ‘OK, thank you,’ Sadler replied, and with a wave of his hand he gestured for Joy to take her out.

  A few moments later Joy popped her head back round. ‘Do you want Mr Avery to hear it?’ she asked.

  Sadler looked up from under lowered brows. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘Yes, I think I do.’

  As Miles listened to the tape he was aware of DC Joy’s scrutiny, her dark, amber eyes watching his, her readiness to interpret his slightest movement as an indication of relief, or surprise, remorse, even anger. He felt all those things and more, but he had no intention of showing them, much less discussing them with a detective. He merely continued to listen to his wife telling the police she was all right so there was no need to go on looking for her.

  As DC Joy turned off the machine, Miles felt Sadler’s scepticism like a chill in the air. He didn’t look at the man, instead focusing on Joy as he said, ‘I believe Mrs Davies has already identified the voice, so if I’m free to go …’

  With a quick glance at Sadler, Joy asked, ‘Are you confirming Mrs Davies’s opinion?’

  ‘I doubt it will make any difference whether I do or don’t,’ Miles responded, ‘so if you’ll excuse me. There’s somewhere I have to be.’

  After receiving a nod from Sadler, Joy walked Avery back through the station to where Mrs Davies was waiting. Before opening the door to reception she said, ‘Are you still worried about your wife, sir?’

  ‘What do you think, Detective?’

  She continued to regard him. ‘I expect the search will be called off now,’ she said.

  Knowing she was still hoping for a reaction, he kept his expressionless eyes on hers. What she wouldn’t know was how painfully those words resonated with him. The search will be called off now. The echo might be coming from a distance of fifteen years, but he would never be free of their memory, or their meaning.

  She dropped her gaze. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly, suggesting that perhaps she’d realised after all.

  ‘So am I,’ he replied, and pushing the door open into reception, he took Mrs Davies by the arm to walk her back to the car.

  ‘I have to call Kelsey,’ he said as they joined the traffic on Heavitree Road.

  ‘Here, let me,’ Mrs Davies offered, and taking his phone from the speaker clamp she pressed in the number.

  After three rings Kelsey’s voice came chirpily down the line. ‘Hey Dad,’ she said. ‘Everything OK?’

  Relieved to hear her sounding upbeat, he said, ‘Everything’s fine, but I have some news. It’s good,’ he added quickly.

  ‘Great, lay it on me.’

  ‘Mum has been in touch with the police.’

  Kelsey fell silent.

  Realising too late that he should have driven over there, instead of doing this by phone, he said, ‘She told them she’s all right, and she wants them to call off the search.’

  ‘Do they know where she is?’ Kelsey asked, sounding a long way from chirpy now.

  ‘Apparently she made the call from Kew, but it was a couple of days ago. The phone she used is registered to someone called Anne Cates. Do you know that name?’

  There was a pause before Kelsey said, ‘I feel like I should.’

  ‘Mm, me too, but I can’t place it.’

  ‘Oh, I know, isn’t that what her great-aunt was called? The one who did the paintings she sold?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Of course.’

  ‘So that was it?’ Kelsey demanded. ‘That’s all she said? I’m all right, stop looking for me?’

  ‘Apparently.’

  ‘Then fuck her, is all I can say! I mean, what about everyone else? Don’t we matter? Like, does she have any idea what she’s put us through? All that crap the police and press have been laying on you?’

  ‘I doubt she’s—’

  ‘Well she can stay wherever the hell she is as far as I’m concerned, and I hope she never comes back.’

  Taking a breath, Miles said, ‘Would you like me to come and take you for dinner?’

  ‘No thanks! You’re as bad as she is, you just dress it up differently.’

  ‘Kelsey, I think you—’

  ‘I don’t care what you think. Just get off my case, all right? I don’t need you, and I definitely don’t need her, so leave me alone, both of you.’

  As the line went dead Mrs Davies reached forward to turn off the phone. ‘This isn’t easy for her,’ she said quietly.

  ‘No,’ he responded. Then, after a pause, ‘Do you think I should drive over there anyway?’

  Afer giving it some thought she shook her head. ‘I doubt it’d do any good right now. If I was you, I’d give her a bit of time to calm down and call her again in the morning.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  VIVIENNE PICKED UP her BlackBerry and scrolled to Miles’s number, ready to dial. Once it was there, she found herself hesitating, as though something inside her had caught on an instinct she didn’t quite understand. She tried to ignore it, but her reluctance to connect persisted. Whilst she and Rufus were here, tucked inside the thick stone walls of the cider press, it was as though nothing bad could reach them. Once she made contact with the world outside it would be like opening the door for all the demons to come in.

  Disturbed by the thought, she put a hand to her throat and continued to look down at Miles’s number. Not for a moment did she consider him one of the demons, nor was she shrinking from defeating those he’d inevitably bring with him. What she dreaded, she realised, was learning
that his lateness meant more difficulties had arisen. Already he was dealing with too much, and now here she was postponing the awful moment of discovering there was more. It was a cowardly form of denial for which she detested herself, since it meant that as long as she put off knowing what might have happened, it wouldn’t be real, and therefore she wouldn’t have to feel unable to cope.

  Her eyes drifted to Rufus, who was playing with his toys again, but her thoughts were moving to the sprawling black shadow of the moor outside. She could almost feel it swelling from the other side of the trees, a jumble of arable fields and forests and deadly quagmires they said could swallow a man whole. She pictured the tucked-away villages, tiny pinpricks of light in the vast swathe of night, rivers gushing wildly through the desolate landscape, and the hostile, barren terrain that stretched endlessly over the crown of the moor, peppered with curious stone circles and rife with impenetrable mysteries and their restless ghouls.

  ‘Mum, mum,’ Rufus muttered to himself, while trying to shove one of his toy maracas into the mouth of his drop-and-roar dinosaur.

  As her eyes drew focus she tried to shake the strange presentiment that had her in its grip, but it was like being in a dream from which she couldn’t awake. The power of the moor seemed omnipresent, swirling around the cider press like a cyclone with her and Rufus in its eye.

  The sudden sound of a car’s wheels crunching the gravel outside made her heart beat faster. Her eyes darted to the glass-panelled door, where the glow of headlights was illuminating the terrace and giant gunnera behind it. She noticed tiny insects and moths flitting and perching on the leaves, then everything returned to black as the headlights went off. Moments later a car door slammed and footsteps started towards the stone bridge. It could only be Miles, she knew that, yet she was trying to remember if she’d locked the door.

  A figure appeared in the shaft of light that fell from the kitchen door, and even as she gasped she started to smile with relief. It was Miles. He’d come at last.

  As he entered a draught of damp air came in with him, and she saw immediately how gaunt and tired he looked, but there was a softness in his eyes as they came to hers that reached far down inside her.

  ‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ he said.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.’

  He continued to look at her, as if almost afraid to let go, or move on. Though Rufus had fallen silent Miles would know he was there, if only because of the baby scent in the air. She understood his delay of the inevitable, the pause before the immensity of something from which he could never retreat. Not that he would want to, but how could he not be mindful of what life had done to him before?

  Finally his eyes moved past her, and for a long, breathless moment he merely stood there, taking him in. His son, his own flesh and blood. She saw the emotions cross his face as the treasured memories of Sam melded with the reality of now. She noticed the tremble at the corner of his mouth, and the movement in his throat as he swallowed, but most of all she felt the tremendous wave that must be engulfing his chest.

  She turned to look at Rufus, and her own emotions began to rise. He’d stopped playing to look up at the stranger who’d come into the room, as though he knew this man was different to the other strangers he’d met. She guessed he’d picked up on the atmosphere surrounding his parents, but he didn’t seem afraid, only hesitant, and in a way expectant. Then his hands jerked upwards and his maraca flew across the room. He looked at it, as though perplexed as to how it had got there, then he gazed in fascination as Miles went to pick it up.

  Vivienne’s heart was in her mouth as she watched the precious moments unfold.

  With the maraca in his hand Miles stooped down as close to Rufus’s height as he could get, and held it out for him to take. Rufus’s eyes and mouth were three perfect little Os as he looked uncertainly from Miles to the toy and back again.

  ‘Is this yours?’ Miles asked softly.

  Rufus merely continued to stare at him, his creamy baby skin flushed by firelight, his whorls of dark hair springing randomly up from his head. Then quite suddenly he broke into an enormous grin, and began bouncing noisily up and down.

  Vivienne almost sobbed with pride as Miles put the maraca into Rufus’s fist and lowered himself to a sitting position. ‘So you’re Rufus,’ he said, so quietly she barely heard. ‘Do you know who I am?’

  ‘Mum! Mum! Mum!’ Rufus cried gleefully, while waving his maraca about.

  ‘Not Mum, no,’ he said, putting a large finger into Rufus’s other fist.

  ‘This is Daddy,’ Vivienne said shakily, going to kneel down with them. ‘Are you going to say hello to Daddy?’

  Rufus’s eyes moved curiously to her, before venturing back to Miles. Then without warning he threw himself forward, making a grab for Miles’s nose. Laughing, Miles caught him, growling and pretending to eat him all up, while Rufus shrieked with delight and rattled his maraca. Miles turned him upside down, buried his face in his belly, then swung him high in the air.

  ‘Pane! Pane! Pane!’ Rufus demanded.

  ‘Aeroplanes,’ Vivienne whispered, biting her lip to try and stop the tears.

  Miles swooped and whisked him around, laughing at so much exuberance while blinking back his own tears, until finally he set him down on the rug and reached into his pocket.

  ‘I have something here for you,’ he said.

  Baffled, Rufus continued to watch his father’s face until his hand emerged holding a small, oddly shaped package with a squashed blue bow. Rufus pounced, but Miles was too quick and swung it out of the way.

  ‘Say thank you, darling,’ Vivienne reminded him.

  Rufus looked at her, then at Miles and tried to pounce again.

  ‘Rufus,’ she warned.

  He grinned cheekily. ‘Me, me, me, ta,’ he trilled.

  Miles gave him the package and the bow was instantly treated as a chew.

  Laughing, Miles detached the bow then began carefully tearing the paper. Intrigued, Rufus watched, until deciding it wasn’t happening fast enough he plunged in with his own fists, ripping the paper apart and rescuing an extremely cute, curly-furred teddy.

  ‘Ted, ted,’ he shouted.

  Vivienne laughed, hardly able to contain her happiness. Then suddenly it was all too much and she started to sob. ‘I’m sorry,’ she gasped. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry. What a fool.’

  Rufus frowned in disapproval as Miles put an arm around her and pulled her head onto his shoulder.

  ‘We’ve got the most beautiful son,’ he whispered into her hair.

  ‘I knew you’d love him,’ she said brokenly, and as she lifted her head to look into his face she saw how the tiredness and angst had been smoothed away. It would only be temporary, she understood that, but she could be in no doubt now of how desperately he had needed this, or of how wrong she had been to make him wait.

  ‘I’m not sure how long you can stay,’ she said, ‘but I delayed his bath, just in case …’

  Miles turned back to his son. ‘What do you say, Rufus?’ he asked. ‘You and ted in the tub?’

  ‘Ted,’ Rufus answered, waving the bear at him.

  ‘I’ll pour some champagne and bring it up,’ Vivienne said.

  ‘Champagne too,’ Miles responded, clearly impressed. ‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’

  Not wanting to remind him that he had many other things to be thinking about, she lowered her eyes to his mouth, letting him know she’d like a kiss.

  When it came, tender and loving, so much sensation began pouring through her that there was nothing she could do to stop her lips parting and her tongue moving to find his. He held her firmly while deepening the kiss, and as the desire that had lain dormant in her for too long began to awaken she sank weakly into him.

  A moment later they were laughing as Rufus’s little face peered up from under theirs, as though trying to work out what was happening.

  ‘There are plenty of towels already up there,’ Vivienne said hoarsely. ‘I�
�ll join you in a minute.’

  Tucking Rufus under one arm, Miles got to his feet then helped her up too. Before letting her go he lowered his face to hers and kissed her again.

  ‘I guess this could come off now,’ she said, sliding her hands under the shoulders of his coat.

  After allowing her to help him, while swinging the apparently contented Rufus from one arm to the other, he smiled at the way she held the coat against her.

  ‘Before you go up, tell me what news on Kelsey?’ she said. ‘Have you spoken to her since she went back to school?’

  A cloud passed over his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he answered. Then, looking down at Rufus, his expression softened again. ‘There’s more to tell, but it can wait. Let’s try to make tonight all about him.’

  Knowing they both deserved it, Vivienne let it go and stood watching as he carried Rufus over to the narrow staircase that rose against the back wall. He glanced at her and winked. ‘Don’t be long,’ he whispered. ‘And if you look in the other pocket you might find something for you.’

  Surprised, and intrigued, she slid a hand down over the soft black cashmere, and finding a small box in one of the pockets she pulled it out, feeling like a child at Christmas.

  The instant she saw the wrapping her heart turned over. ‘Miles?’ she murmured.

  There was no response; he was already upstairs.

  With shaking fingers she untied the black silk bow, peeled back the matching paper and found herself staring down at a dark red leather box, too big for a ring, the wrong shape for a necklace, but the perfect size for something she’d always wanted.

  Easing off the lid, she unfurled the black tissue and her heart leapt as she saw the slender platinum band. It was a Cartier love bangle. She knew he couldn’t possibly have bought it today, because it would only be available in London, so he must have had it for some time.

  Suppressing her initial instinct to run upstairs and throw her arms around him, she went to place the open box on a tray, added two glasses filled with champagne and one of the candles, then carried it all up to the vaulted mezzanine bedroom, where she pushed aside a pile of books to rest the tray on an old pine chest.