The Hornbeam Tree Read online

  Donna stepped forward, hands clasped together as though in prayer.

  ‘I, Donna Ringwold, do honour your virginity,’ she said, bowing before Molly. She moved aside and Allison took her place.

  ‘I, Allison Fortescue-Bond, do honour your virginity,’ she echoed, bowing too.

  Cecily continued to massage. ‘Your virginity is honoured by us all,’ she told Molly. ‘There are six steps to be taken before you can lose it. Are you willing to take them?’

  ‘Yes,’ Molly answered.

  ‘Then recite now from the Oracle of Lilith.’

  Obediently Molly began to chant the words she had learned by heart.

  ‘“I dance life for myself,

  I am whole, I am complete.

  I live my sexuality to please myself

  and pleasure others.

  I express it as it needs to be expressed,

  from the core of myself.

  I am female, I am sexual, I am power.”’

  ‘Now speak the name of the man you have chosen to take your virginity,’ Cecily said.

  A quiver of nerves stole Molly’s voice. She tried again. ‘Brad Jenkins,’ she whispered.

  ‘We call upon the great Goddess Lilith to hear Brad Jenkins,’ Cecily cried. There was a moment’s silence, then she said, ‘Our great Goddess hears and approves Brad Jenkins. Together with Lilith we will help you to achieve your goal. You are one of us now. Your desires are ours, your passions shall be fulfilled, your loves achieved. You will dress, think and speak according to our rules. You will follow the Six Steps. Get up Molly Kiernan and seal your solemn vows.’

  Molly got up and stood next to the bed.

  ‘You may dress now, except for your shoes,’ Cecily told her, eyeing Molly’s new trainers. ‘They are the token of our commitment to you, so in gratitude you will say a prayer of thanks to us, before putting them on.’

  When she was dressed Molly dropped to her knees, and putting her hands together she recited the prayer Cecily had given her to learn. ‘I thank you Daughters of Lilith for making me a member of your exclusive society. I honour and respect you. I promise to obey the rules, and I will always treasure this token of your commitment.’ As she finished, she picked up the trainers, feeling a tremor of pure pleasure, for they were sooo cool.

  The others applauded and Cecily put a hand on Molly’s head. ‘You are now a full member of the Daughters of Lilith,’ she declared, ‘which entitles you to all privileges our secret club offers, starting with …’ Her eyes were shining, her smile wide, as she threw back her head and cried, ‘Getting drunk!’

  The others cheered and clapped, Deepest Blue went on the CD, and Bacardi Breezers were whisked from the fridge.

  ‘So, was that cool, or what?’ Allison demanded, linking Molly’s arm and pulling her down on to one of the sofas.

  ‘Totally amazing,’ Molly responded, actually thinking it was, though still relieved to be dressed.

  ‘I told you, Cecily’s like, wild,’ Allison went on. ‘She made it all up herself. I mean, she got some of the stuff online, you know, from Lilith web sites and places, but the whole ceremony thing, you know, with the oil and chants and stuff, that’s totally hers.’

  ‘We’ve just got to get you up to speed with the steps now,’ Cecily told her, ‘because we’re all on Step Three. So, have you ever kissed a boy?’

  Molly kept her eyes down and nodded.

  ‘So that’s Step One taken care of,’ Allison declared. ‘Step Two’s kissing with tongues. Have you ever done that?’

  Since Molly had already confessed she hadn’t, she could only shake her head.

  ‘No big deal,’ Allison told her. ‘I reckon she can do two and three together, don’t you?’ she said to the others.

  ‘So what’s Step Three?’ Molly asked.

  They all started to giggle. ‘It is like so out there,’ Allison informed her. ‘You are going to just die when we tell you.’

  Chapter Three

  THE FOLLOWING DAY Katie was standing in the back car park of Chippenham station, watching the train pull away to continue its journey to Bristol. She checked her watch. Yes, this was definitely the train Michelle had insisted she’d be on, but no more than a handful of people had got off, and none of them was Michelle.

  With a bitter, disappointed sigh she unlocked her old Fiesta and slid into the driver’s seat, unable to stop herself remembering the last time this had happened, when Michelle had failed to turn up for their mother’s funeral because, apparently, a bunch of total strangers in Mogadishu had needed her. So Katie could only wonder what insurmountable obstacle had thrown itself in her path this time to prevent her from being on that train.

  As she turned out of the station slip road the Westinghouse traffic was already clogging up the one-way system, and there, right behind her, all of a sudden, was white-van man, that peril of the English roads, whom she’d happily force to slam into the back of her car if she could be bothered with the insurance hassle that came with it. Anyway, at least she hadn’t gone to too much trouble for dinner, just a roast-in-the-bag chicken from Sainsbury’s and a bottle of mediumly expensive white wine. The spare room was made up, of course, and she’d put some fresh flowers in a vase to brighten it up a bit. She’d even ironed the sheets before putting them on the bed, something she never did for herself and Molly.

  Deciding to switch on the news, she hit the button, then almost had second thoughts when she realized it wouldn’t surprise her to discover Michelle was in the headlines, for it was the kind of thing her sister usually managed to pull off without too much effort. Thanks to her earlier fame as an actress, people hadn’t quite forgotten who she was yet, so maybe that was the cause of her delay, she was still up there at Heathrow, filling the press in on how many babies she’d managed to save since the last time she was in overprivileged, don’t-know-where-we’re-well-off England, and how many hungry mouths she’d helped feed while the British were wasting enough every week to feed several African nations for an entire year.

  The lead news story turned out to be more on the debacle in Iraq, a situation that fascinated and infuriated Katie, for she loathed the hawkish elements of the US regime that had somehow dragged Britain into this, and she still couldn’t believe the gullibility of half the American people who just weren’t getting that they’d been sold a lemon. Next on the agenda was the story of two British girls who’d disappeared while on holiday in Croatia. Apparently they’d gone to a nightclub sometime over the weekend and no-one had seen them since, though some pretty sinister details were starting to emerge now, about a couple of local men they’d become involved with. Katie’s heart went out to their mothers, for the girls were only just nineteen, not that much older than Molly. The very idea of what the families must be going through now made her long for her old column which she’d frequently used to reach out to people in their times of need.

  Finally breaking free of the snarling Chippenham logjam she drove across Bumper’s Farm roundabout on the outskirts of town and spotting a neighbour coming the other way, waved out and wished she hadn’t told anyone Michelle was coming. By six o’clock it would be all round the village that Mrs Parsons had seen Katie Kiernan driving back from the station alone.

  Katie wasn’t going to allow herself to dwell on that, though, she was just going to focus on the moment, which right now meant enjoying this next part of the short drive home. It was her favourite stretch, for it entailed cutting through the wide open Wiltshire countryside. The sky seemed so vast, and the fields so enticing and green as they spread out to the far horizon that it made her heart sing. As she approached the Farm Shop she considered stopping off to pick up some eggs for the morning, but then just drove on by. They could always have toast.

  ‘I don’t want bloody toast.’

  She could hear Molly grumbling now. No matter what she served up lately, Molly never wanted it.

  Eventually the road split, and she indicated to turn left, then almost immediately right at the old
plane tree, into Mill Lane. A couple more miles of winding country lanes and she’d arrive at Membury Hempton. She’d like just to go on driving for a while, twisting and turning, dreaming and forgetting, pretending she didn’t care where the hell Michelle was, refusing to admit that she was now more worried than ever about what was going to happen to Molly when she’d gone.

  When she drove into the small parking bay outside their cottage she could already hear the music blaring from an upstairs window. She wondered which she dreaded most, the bone-jarring beat, or silence. It had to be silence of course, because at least when the music was on, she knew Molly was at home.

  As she stepped out into a full assault from the latest boy band, she could only feel thankful that Mr and Mrs Preddy next door were hard enough of hearing not to be disturbed by the noise. Not so the neighbours who lived in one of the bigger houses, at the start of Sheep Lane, for they’d already been in touch with the local council and had even persuaded Reg Killet, the local bobby, to come and have a word. If any one of them could talk Molly into turning her damned stereo down, no-one would be happier than her mother, but so far no-one had succeeded. Taking the thing away hadn’t worked either, because Molly had simply run away from home. OK, she’d only gone to Allison Fortescue-Bond’s, and had come back the next morning, but not until Katie had agreed to return the stereo and never take it away again.

  Sighing, she pushed open the gate and paused to pull a few dead fuschias from the baskets hanging either side of the kitchen window. The most pressing issue she faced with Molly right now was whether or not to give her some condoms, because if she was getting up to no good with boys over at Allison’s she needed some protection. On the other hand, she didn’t want Molly to think she was condoning it, and since it actually might not be happening, she just couldn’t make up her mind what to do. Fourteen and already having sex. Her heart twisted with dismay, though she knew it happened, of course, she just hoped to God not to Molly.

  As she opened the door Trotty came bounding up to greet her. She gave her a cuddle, threw her ball across the garden, then bracing herself went to check the answering machine. To her surprise there was no word from Michelle, but it was stupid to start getting upset and angry when something awful might have happened, so she should at least make an attempt to find out if it had.

  She’d just turned up an old mobile number for Michelle when she realized the music had stopped, and almost at the same instant Molly came thundering down the stairs.

  ‘So where is she?’ she demanded, as she reached the bottom.

  ‘I don’t know. She wasn’t on the train, and there are no messages. Has she called since you’ve been home?’

  Molly shook her head. ‘Why are you looking so bothered?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you didn’t care if she came.’

  Katie shook her head dismissively. ‘Where are you going?’ she asked, wanting to change the subject and trying to keep the disapproval from her tone as she eyed the low-slung jeans that all but revealed Molly’s young pubes, and the too-tight bra that pushed her overdeveloped breasts into a womanly cleavage.

  ‘Allison’s. She’s going to help me with my history, because she’s already done it at her school.’

  ‘What about something to eat?’

  ‘Why don’t you have something, you’re too thin.’

  ‘Charming,’ Katie responded. ‘This is supposed to be my Kate Moss look.’

  ‘Well it’s uniquely Katie Kiernan. And don’t start sending me text messages while I’m out, they’re embarrassing.’

  Katie couldn’t help but laugh.

  It took a moment, then Molly was fighting off a smile too. ‘Stop it!’ she protested. ‘You always do that.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Make me laugh, and you are so not funny.’

  ‘Have something to eat before you go,’ Katie pleaded.

  ‘I’ll take an apple,’ Molly dug into the bowl, and was about to leave when Katie noticed her trainers.

  ‘Where did you get those shoes?’ she demanded.

  Molly looked down. ‘In a shop,’ she answered. ‘Where do you think?’

  ‘But we couldn’t afford them,’ Katie reminded her. ‘So where did you get the money?’

  Molly’s face was puckering into resistance. ‘Allison bought them for me, if you must know,’ she said. ‘Her parents are generous with her pocket money, unlike you.’

  ‘If I had more, I’d give you more,’ Katie said, though she might not, for she was afraid of what Molly might spend it on, ‘but you know we don’t have it these days.’

  ‘We would if you hadn’t stopped work.’

  Katie sighed. ‘I’m not going to argue,’ she said. ‘Just be back here by eight thirty. You’ve got school in the morning.’

  ‘Yeah, like I’m really going to be back that early,’ Molly sneered, and crunching into the apple she waltzed out of the door.

  Katie stood at the window watching her until she disappeared from view, then returning to her address book she began dialling the mobile number she’d found for Michelle. After five rings Michelle’s recorded voice came down the line asking the caller to leave a message.

  ‘Hi, it’s me,’ Katie said. ‘I was wondering what happened to you. Please call and let me know.’

  After ringing off she popped the chicken in the oven. Might as well cook it anyway. Trotty was nothing if not a willing dinner companion, generally ending up with most of Katie’s food, and Molly could always have it cold with a salad when she came in, hopefully by half past eight.

  Out of habit she turned on Radio 4 to listen to the news, in case something new had developed in the last half an hour. Of course it hadn’t, but by the time the headlines were over she realized there was no point going on avoiding how worried she was about Michelle. ‘I know she always manages to let me down somehow,’ she said to Judy on the phone, ‘but she called from Karachi last night to tell me what time she was arriving at Heathrow, and which train she’d be on, provided there were no more delays. If there were she said she’d let me know, so I don’t understand what can have happened.’

  ‘Have you checked with the airline that she was actually on the flight?’

  ‘No. They don’t give out that kind of information normally. Oh hang on, someone’s trying to get through, with any luck it’ll be her,’ and switching over the lines she said, ‘Hello?’

  ‘Oh hi, Katie. It’s Audrey Wilkes here, just wondering if you’re going to be at the parish council meeting later. I’m afraid I can’t make it, and we really need someone to force it home about clearing those footpaths. It’s a disgrace the way they’ve been allowed to grow over since the foot and mouth ep …’

  ‘Yes, yes of course,’ Katie interrupted, knowing all about it, since she was the one who’d first introduced it. ‘I’ll be there, if I can. I’m afraid I have to go now though,’ and switching back to Judy she said, ‘I’m going to contact the police at Heathrow. I’m not sure what they can do, but … Oh God, there’s someone else on the line now.’

  ‘Call me back when you’ve finished,’ Judy said. ‘I’m in the middle of cooking the boys’ tea.’

  ‘Hello?’ Katie said, taking the next call.

  ‘Katie, it’s Tom. Is this a good time?’

  ‘Tom! No, yes, it’s fine. Have you spoken to Michelle?’

  ‘No, but I was hoping to. Didn’t she get there yet?’

  ‘No, and I haven’t heard from her either. When did you last speak to her?’

  ‘She called me from the airport in Karachi, just before she took off this morning.’

  ‘Not since?’

  ‘No, she can’t. My apartment in Lahore’s been turned over and one of the things they took was my cellphone. I’m in Karachi now, in a hotel. Let me give you the number.’

  Quickly she grabbed a pen from the table drawer, jotted down the number and said, ‘I was about to call the airport police.’

  ‘Do that,’ he told her. ‘I’ll try the airline, see if I can find o
ut if she actually got on the flight. Call me back as soon as you have any news.’

  ‘Same goes for you, if you hear anything, please let me know.’

  A few minutes later Katie was being put through to the duty officer at Heathrow. After explaining why she was calling, she was left on hold for what felt like an eternity, until the same voice came back on the line saying, ‘I’m sorry madam, her name’s not appearing on our records anywhere, and as she’s not a minor, or a danger to the community, I’m afraid there’s not really anything we can do to help you. Maybe you should try the transport police to see if there have been any accidents. I can give you the number.’

  Michelle spun round as the door opened and the customs officer who’d brought her to this room almost three hours ago came back in. ‘For God’s sake! What’s going on?’ she demanded. ‘My sister’s waiting. No-one will let me use a phone …’

  ‘I’m sorry to have kept you,’ he interrupted, apparently unfazed by her outburst. ‘If you’d like to follow me you can collect your bags and be on your way now.’

  Startled, but needing no further prompting, she was almost at the door before she said, ‘Can you tell me why I’ve been held all this time?’

  ‘It was merely procedure,’ he responded, standing aside for her to go out ahead of him.

  ‘You mean everyone who comes in from Pakistan has to go through this?’

  He merely gestured for her to cross the office where two uniformed women were working at the computers, and a Middle-Eastern-looking man was seated in the waiting room beyond.

  Back down in the arrivals hall she found her luggage and holdall, still on its trolley, and looking very much as though it hadn’t moved since she’d been parted from it.

  ‘Just one question before I go,’ she said, turning to the officer. ‘Has there been any sign of my lost bag?’

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ he replied, and with a polite nod he disappeared behind the screens, leaving her to make her way out.

  Immediately she was through she delved into her holdall to look for her phone. Unable to lay a hand on it, she eased her trolley out of the traffic, and started to pull everything out. To her annoyance it didn’t seem to be there. She checked again, then, wondering if it had somehow got transferred to her suitcase while it was being searched, she started to rummage in that too. It wasn’t there either, but since she had no intention of going back to confront anyone, she steered her trolley to a payphone, dialled 192 and prayed Katie wasn’t ex-directory, even though as an ex-columnist, she almost certainly would be.