Missing Page 6

  She merely watched as he scribbled a couple of numbers on a Post-it, hardly even thinking about whose they might be, for she was already considering how best to approach this.

  A few minutes later she was back at her desk, the Post-it in one hand, while with the other she whirled her old-fashioned Rolodex searching for a contact she hadn’t needed in a while. When she found it she pressed the number into her phone and after being diverted through to voicemail said, ‘Roger. It’s Justine. Call me back when you can. There could be a lot of beer money in it for you.’

  Next she called one of the Critch’s stringers – a sub on a local Devon paper – made a few notes as he brought her up to speed with what he knew about the police involvement in Jacqueline Avery’s disappearance, and then, pulling another old number from her Rolodex she pressed it into her phone and waited brazenly for the connection.

  Vivienne and Alice were laughing at one of Kayla’s outrageously silly jokes when Alice reached out to answer the phone. ‘Kane and Jackson. Alice Jackson speaking,’ she announced. Her smile began a rapid fade through to distaste as she listened to the voice at the other end. ‘Justine,’ she said, her eyes going straight to Vivienne.

  Vivienne’s smile died too.

  ‘No, I’m afraid Vivienne’s not here at the moment,’ Alice lied. ‘Can I help at all? I see. Well, if you can tell me what it’s about I’ll get her to call you back.’

  She listened again, then said, ‘I’ll pass the message on,’ and with an abrupt goodbye she rang off.

  ‘She’s got some nerve, calling here,’ Kayla said sourly.

  Alice’s attention was on Vivienne. ‘Apparently she’s been hearing rumours,’ she stated. ‘Given the timing they have to be about Jacqueline.’

  ‘Yeah, like, Vivi’s going to discuss anything with her,’ Kayla said hotly. ‘She’s got to be big-time delusional if she thinks that.’

  Vivienne and Alice were looking at one another, each knowing what the other was thinking.

  ‘The woman is best ignored,’ Vivienne stated.

  Alice didn’t look so certain. ‘Maybe you ought to find out exactly what she’s been hearing.’

  ‘I’m not giving her the satisfaction.’

  ‘She’s not someone to be on the wrong side of.’

  ‘Nor am I.’

  ‘She won’t care about that.’

  ‘She cares about Miles, though – and frankly, if she thinks I’m going to confirm or deny any rumours she might have heard about Jacqueline, or anything else, then Kayla’s right, she’s big-time delusional.’

  ‘But what if—’

  ‘No, Alice, I’m sorry, I’m not dancing to her tune,’ and unwilling to sully her thoughts any further with the woman she despised above all others, she picked up the phone to call the much more fragrant, and delightfully quirky chairwoman of the Kenleigh WI.

  *

  ‘You’re kidding me,’ Pete Alexander cried, later that night, his electric-blue eyes boggling with astonishment. ‘Justine James calls, and you haven’t rung her back yet? Aren’t you dying to know what the rumours are about? I mean, it’s got to be la pauvre Jacq-u-line, obviously, but wouldn’t it be good to find out what she knows?’

  Aware of how keen Alice and Angus were to hear her answer, Vivienne only said, ‘No,’ and continued to sprinkle Parmesan onto her pasta.

  ‘Vivi,’ Alice said gravely, ‘what if it’s not about Jacqueline? You don’t want—’

  ‘Whatever she knows, there’s nothing I can do about it,’ Vivienne interrupted.

  ‘But what if she makes it public about Rufus?’

  ‘Then just like when she managed to bring Jacqueline back from the States, she’ll have her own conscience to deal with,’ Vivienne answered tartly.

  ‘You don’t know for certain she was behind that article,’ Pete reminded her.

  ‘For God’s sake, of course she was,’ Vivienne snapped.

  ‘OK, I wouldn’t put it past her,’ he conceded, ‘but she and Miles go back a long way …’

  ‘Which is precisely why she was trying to get me out of his life. Everyone knew she’d set her sights on him.’

  ‘I’m not denying that, but my money’s still on the Critch. He’s been after Miles’s hide ever since Miles started running The Grunt.’

  ‘Miles isn’t a cartoonist.’

  ‘But it was in his paper, which makes him as guilty as if he was writing it himself. Or that’s the way the Critch sees it, and if you think about it, he’s right, because Miles could have dropped that strip any time he liked, but he never did.’

  ‘Which is why Miles holds the Critch responsible for the article that brought Jacqueline back,’ Alice informed him. ‘As the editor he carries the can. But I’m with Vivi. I think Justine wrote it – or at least gave the Critch the information he needed.’

  Pete shrugged. ‘You could be right, but imagine how you’d feel about the person who turned you into a laughing stock. You’d stop at nothing to get back at them, which is exactly how the Critch feels about Miles. As far as Justine’s concerned, she’s tough, I’ll admit, and ruthless, but she’s too shrewd to risk getting on the wrong side of Miles.’

  Wanting to change the subject, Vivienne said to Angus, ‘Would you mind opening some more wine?’

  Giving her a wink, he reached behind him to take a bottle of red from the art deco drinks cabinet that occupied one wall of her softly lit dining room. The adjacent wall was almost entirely given over to French windows that in warmer days opened onto a small patio. This formed part of a secluded communal courtyard which sloped down to a locked gate opening onto the towpath and river. The opposite wall of the dining room was actually a counter top that divided off the bijou black granite kitchen, and the fourth wall was mostly doors, one opening into the hall that led upstairs to the sitting room and bedrooms, and the other into the garage where Vivienne kept her precious VW Beetle. It was a house she adored, and had had no problem affording during the agency’s heyday. Now her mortgage was three months in arrears and a small pile of red bills was sitting next to the phone. Just please God some money came through soon, from Irwin’s movie, or La Belle Amie, because it would break her heart to have to leave here.

  As Angus refilled their glasses, Pete turned to Vivienne again, his sharp features and proud bald head aglow with intrigue. ‘So how many times has Justine actually called?’ he demanded, clearly determined not to let this go.

  Vivienne looked to Alice for the answer.

  ‘Three that I know of,’ Alice provided.

  Pete gave a shriek of laughter and rubbed his hands with glee. ‘She must be incandescent by now,’ he declared happily. ‘No one ever blocks the Justine. Or they never used to, but we all know the days are darkening for poor Justie, so do be careful, darling, a panicky she-cat with a used-up ninth life is not an animal to mess around with.’

  ‘That’s what I keep telling her,’ Alice agreed.

  ‘Can we drop this please?’ Vivienne said crisply. ‘I thought we were meeting to discuss auctions and movies.’

  ‘Oh we will, we will,’ Pete assured her, ‘but we need to get the important stuff dealt with first.’

  Angus chuckled at the despair on Vivienne’s face. ‘Great dinner,’ he told her. ‘Nothing’s burnt, underdone or even raw.’

  Vivienne gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘Something of an achievement for me,’ she responded. ‘I’m a latecomer to Jamie Oliver. If he weren’t already married, I’d propose.’

  ‘Oh, bollocks to Jamie Oliver – love him though we do,’ Pete interjected. ‘If you won’t talk about Justine, then tell us more about Miles.’

  ‘The police were in touch with Vivienne this afternoon,’ Alice informed him, while staring at Vivienne. ‘And you still haven’t told me what they said yet,’ she prompted.

  Vivienne shrugged. ‘They just wanted to know if I’d heard from Jacqueline, which I haven’t. Or if I have any idea where she might be, which I don’t. And if I’m still seeing Miles, which I’m
not.’

  ‘I bet they think he’s bumped her off,’ Pete said decisively. ‘Boy are they going to have a shock when she turns up again. But hey, what if she doesn’t? Oh God, what a scandal.’

  Vivienne’s eyes flashed. ‘It’s not a joke, Pete,’ she snapped.

  His hands shot up. ‘Sorry, no offence,’ he cried. ‘Can see I was well out of order, so sorry again.’

  ‘Actually,’ Vivienne said, ‘the police also wanted to know where I was on the day she disappeared, and if I have an alibi to confirm it.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Pete cried, clasping his hands to his cheeks. ‘They surely don’t think you’ve done away with her? Oh my God, this is too much. There’s our dear little agency poodling along like an empty checkout, then suddenly we’ve got slave auctions in the countryside, biggish-budget movies, and our very own murder mystery. Agatha Christie must be turning in her grave.’

  ‘Pete, will you at least try to be serious,’ Alice chided, sensing Vivienne’s humour failing again.

  ‘Darling, I am,’ he insisted. ‘Tell us,’ he said to Vivienne, ‘have you spoken to Miles again since he called to let you know she’d gone up in a puff of smoke?’

  ‘No. I’ve had no reason to.’

  Pete couldn’t have looked more pained. ‘But Vivi, it’s all you’ve ever wanted, to get back with him …’

  ‘Time to leave it,’ Alice warned.

  ‘No! No,’ he protested. ‘Well, OK. But darling, you’ve got to find out what the Justine wants. Please.’

  ‘Pete,’ Angus said firmly.

  ‘She can give you some great publicity for your auction,’ Pete pointed out.

  ‘I’d rather sink it than let her anywhere near it,’ Vivienne retorted. ‘Now are you happy about taking on La Belle Amie? I met with her and her agent first thing this morning. She’s pretty forthcoming about her past career and how she got into it. Actually, probably too forthcoming, so you’ll need to rein her in a bit.’

  ‘Oh, listen to you,’ Pete mocked, taking a mouthful of penne. ‘Everyone wants to hear about sex, and the raunchier the better.’

  ‘But she tends to go over the top, and we don’t want to start building a reputation as a PR agency for sleaze …’

  ‘Darling, you’re such a prude,’ he told her.

  Vivienne was taken aback. ‘I am not,’ she declared.

  ‘Yes you are.’

  She looked from him to Alice and Angus. ‘Is that how you see me?’ she said.

  ‘Not at all,’ Alice assured her, a tad too quickly.

  ‘No way,’ Angus blustered.

  Vivienne was clearly still bothered. ‘Look, I just don’t want us to become known for handling porn stars,’ she explained. ‘I know sex sells—’

  ‘It does?’ Pete interrupted, feigning shock.

  Vivienne threw him a look. ‘I’m simply saying, I’d rather we were the broadsheet version of PR than the tabloid. OK, maybe there’s more money in the gutter stuff, and La Belle Amie—’

  ‘Oh, you’re just too image-conscious,’ Pete protested, with a flick of his wrist. ‘They’re going to lap her up, pardon the pun if there is one there, which I’m sure there is. Anyway, what does she want us to morph her into? A soap star? Pop singer? Please don’t tell me she wants to front BBC news, or some wildlife guff. Do you think she’s up to writing a book? I reckon we could get her quite a good deal considering her background.’

  ‘She’d need someone to ghost it,’ Vivienne answered, ‘and believe it or not, I think her ambitions lie in serious drama. To quote her, “Helen Mirren is my role model.” ’

  ‘How delighted the Dame will be,’ Pete chuckled. ‘Mind you, at her age—’

  ‘Are you going to answer that?’ Alice interrupted, looking at Vivienne. ‘That’s the second time the phone’s rung, and you seem oblivious.’

  Vivienne looked at her in surprise. ‘If it’s important they’ll leave a message,’ she replied.

  Alice glanced over as the bleep sounded, and once again there was a brief silence before the call cut out. She turned back to Vivienne.

  Vivienne merely shrugged. ‘Everyone who means anything to me is around this table,’ she pointed out, ‘except my sister who never calls me anyway, my gran who’s forgotten who we all are, Kayla who’s gone to the movies tonight, and my mother whom I’ve spoken to three times this evening, and who would definitely leave a message or call the mobile if she needed me urgently.’

  ‘What about Miles?’ Pete put in.

  Vivienne’s light-heartedness vanished. ‘Does he strike you as the type who’d hang up without speaking?’ she said shortly.

  ‘It could be Jacqueline.’

  ‘Pete! Just stop, will you.’

  ‘Or Justine.’

  As Vivienne sat back she threw down her napkin. ‘All right, that’s enough,’ she declared. ‘From now on those three names are banned in this house, and anyone who utters them has to leave.’

  In a very theatrical way Pete pressed a finger to his rosy lips. ‘Sealed,’ he promised.

  Alice glanced at Angus, who was helping himself to more pasta. ‘OK, getting back on track,’ she said. ‘We know Pete’s going to handle La Belle Amie and, poppet of a porn star that she is, she’s prepared to pay megabucks …’

  ‘Most of which you’re going to need upfront,’ Angus interjected gravely.

  ‘We also know that I’m going to take on Irwin’s movie – working title, A Deed Undone – serious megabucks, at least for us, and Vivi’s doing the auction which is going to earn us no bucks at all, but shedloads of goodwill, and there’s never any knowing what it might lead to. That’s me taking the positive view.’

  ‘And why not?’ Vivienne responded. ‘The potential for publicity’s pretty good considering who Sharon was married to. I’ve already contacted the local fire station, and at least six of Keith’s old colleagues are willing to put themselves under the hammer. I have yet to talk to them about the skills they’re offering, but it’s definitely a promising start.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Alice agreed, laughing at the way Pete was fanning himself down at the mere idea of a group of firemen strutting their stuff.

  ‘Plus,’ Vivienne continued, turning to Angus, ‘I was wondering if your nephew might be willing to help out? It would be an amazing coup if we could get him.’

  ‘You mean Theo?’ Angus replied. ‘I’m sure he would, if he’s in the country.’

  ‘Theo?’ Pete enquired. Then, remembering, his eyes rounded with awe. ‘Of course, Theo Kenwood-South is your sister’s son. How could I have forgotten that?’

  ‘More relevantly,’ Alice said, ‘he holds the Olympic gold for freestyle and he knew Keith Goss.’ To Vivienne she added, ‘We’re having a family get-together this weekend, and Theo should be there, so we can put it to him then.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ Vivienne declared. ‘And please send him my love. It’s been ages since I saw him.’

  ‘Oh please send him mine too,’ Pete begged. ‘I know he’s never met me, but I simply adore him.’

  Laughing, Alice turned back to Vivienne. ‘When are you going to Devon?’ she asked.

  ‘Next Monday. There’s a lot to sort out here first, which Kayla’s helping me with. Has Irwin decided on locations for the movie yet?’

  ‘Scotland for three weeks, London for two. Listen, if you’re not going to answer that, will you at least let me?’

  Vivienne shrugged. ‘Be my guest.’

  Turning in her chair, Alice tugged the phone across the counter top and picked it up. ‘Hello?’ she said into the receiver.

  Everyone waited.

  ‘Hello?’ Alice said again.

  Still no response.

  ‘Is anyone there?’

  Vivienne’s appetite was starting to fade.

  Alice looked at the receiver, then at Vivienne.

  ‘Just hang up,’ Vivienne told her.

  Putting the phone down again, Alice said, ‘Has this happened before tonight?’

  All e
yes were on Vivienne. ‘I can read your minds,’ she told them, ‘so please don’t ask if I think it’s Jacqueline, because I really don’t know.’

  ‘But has it happened before?’ Pete pressed, as Alice dialled 1471.

  ‘Once or twice.’

  ‘Number withheld,’ Alice informed them.

  Pete shivered. ‘Sorry, but that sort of thing gives me the spooks.’

  ‘It was probably a wrong number,’ Alice retorted, with a quick glance at Vivienne.

  ‘You’re going to start spooking me too if you don’t stop this,’ Vivienne snapped, and snatching up the wine she refilled her glass.

  Later, after everyone had gone, and she’d finished clearing up, she stood against the counter top staring down at the phone. She knew it was probably Justine making the calls, trying to catch her unawares, but at the same time she had to face the fact that it could be Jacqueline. Her heart gave a twist of unease to think of her out there somewhere, alone, unhappy and with a purpose only Jacqueline knew anything about.

  However, she wasn’t going to use these calls as an excuse to speak to Miles, even though she longed to hear him again. It would only end up worrying him, and that wasn’t what she wanted at all. She wondered if he’d spent as much time thinking about her these past few days as she had about him. Since they’d spoken she’d hardly been able to get him out of her mind, not that he was ever far from it anyway, but now she couldn’t help being concerned about the effect Jacqueline’s disappearance must be having on him.

  Finally turning out the light, she closed the kitchen door and started up the stairs to bed. To her surprise she found the TV on in the sitting room. She had no recollection of turning it on, and for one unsettling moment she thought someone else might be in the house. Then she remembered Pete and Angus had come up here just after arriving to catch some cricket result.

  After switching it off she went to stand at the window looking out at the night, where only a single lamp post was visible at the open peak of the courtyard, turning the branches of a weeping willow to silver and reflecting like moonlight on the river below. Trying not to think any more about Miles was too hard, so she indulged herself for a while, recalling some of the times they’d spent here, at her house, when they’d been happy and so wrapped up in one another they’d needed no one else. There had been no reason to feel guilty about Jacqueline then, because she’d chosen to go and start a new life. Finally his wife had given Miles his freedom, and considering their past, no one could blame him for taking it.